He came with love in his heart for every living thing. His innocence had been untouched and his light force shone so bright that crowds gathered to see him but, more importantly, to feel his warmth. By gazing upon him they were somehow changed. “Was this the Messiah?” they mumbled to each other in hushed tones lest they be deemed blasphemous by some. For some can find darkness in every hope, every wish, every prayer.
And when this man spoke it brought some to their knees, others to tears. It was as if the calmness in his voice could heal every hurt and fear that had weighed them down and they were now somehow lighter.
The taking away of such anguish even brought back sight to the blind. As if all they had needed was to believe in something and were being granted the ability to see the world anew. Men who had walked too many lonely dead end loveless roads and were now crippled, found that they could walk again. And after those first awkward unsure steps they inched closer and closer to him growing more confident and accepted with each one until they were in his arms, and the safety and strength of unconditional love made them sob for the joy of each precious moment. Time that they had, until now, misinterpreted and cursed for their burdens, and wasted, was now rediscovered and rejoiced over. All things were possible again.
In his face they saw no judgement, no impatience, no pity, only love. And his love became contagious among the people and they sang his praises.
He had not come to destroy the Romans, or hand out weapons, or preach hate. He was here to give meaning to our lives. What was the meaning of life? Love. For love opens the door to joy. And its light extinguishes all shadows.
But there were those, the shadow people, who were angered by us learning the meaning of existence and saw that this teaching could undermine their power over us. For they ruled by fear and threats, both of which were rendered insignificant when the masses walked proudly in the sun again unchained from their own mental limitations.
So they arrested this man, this dangerous man, beat him, whipped him, ridiculed him and his suffering, and sentenced him to an agonising death for the crime of telling us to love and forgive each other.
And in his final conscious moments he forgave those who had plotted his death, and the ignorant who had killed him. To this day it remains the greatest triumph of the human spirit.
Perhaps he was drawing evil into the light so that the world could recognise its face?
She could’ve been a star but she sold too short. She gave easy access to the bottom feeders and the psycho time wasters. People whom she thought had a name. Trouble is, their names only opened doors for themselves. Philanthropic enterprises were not on their radar. Only the unveiling of what everyone else had already seen and widely circulated reports about. She grew to get off on the feeling of being humiliated in such a way, and so, it continued all the way down.
Soon she was the name on everyone’s lips and didn’t care that a snigger followed it and then a derogatory remark. After all, she was famous, wasn’t she? Well in some circles it was true.
She began expanding herself into diminishing returns and thinking she was making ground. Love, or what she could make of it, became opportunistic and as reasonably priced as the discounted dress she could manipulate some romantic fool to purchase for her. It was a good life as long as you didn’t look up and see that you were actually going backwards.
She could fake sympathy but not loyalty. She was continually shocked that people thought she’d betrayed them, but the truth is it never crossed her mind. She also had difficulty playing characters as she was already playing herself, and it was difficult wearing two masks at the same time.
She thought Empathy was a boring village somewhere in France. A place she had no interest in visiting. Why? What was in it for her?
Each day she checked her face for any signs of age, that dark angel that waited in the wings to signal her demise and herald the harvest season for the new crop of pretty young things.
She feared that her destiny was to play the cynical boozy floozies a la Gloria Grahame. She began weeping at sunsets.
Life was cruel when you thought about it so she ceased thinking about anything other than herself. In her mind she was already a legend and had convinced herself the whole world was waiting to see her next move. In reality they had no idea who she was.
To further take her mind off things she’d fall in love with crude men who played supporting roles and would abuse her. But she always kept a longtime, long suffering romantic male friend to run back to and hide the shame in his arms that she’d been exposed to the spotlight of her circle.
As the years of the same rolled by and her ability to be noticed when she entered a room diminished she became more and more erratic and her tantrums grew larger and more devoid of any valid logic, causing bemused onlookers to suggest, in whispered tones, that she needed to be in an institution for the insane and creatively gifted.
But instead she chose to be stripped naked by big rough men in the back seats of second hand cars. They would calm her by whispering beautiful lies in her ear that she was safe and still beautiful. Each one of them murdering her a little more.
To those who truly cared about her, or more accurately, the person they thought she could be based on the evidence of zip, it became too painful to watch her downfall.
One day we’ll be safe
Haunted no more
When the oceans tide
Turns away from the shore
And the bars on our windows
Have been torn away
We’ll wake to find
A brave new day
You’ll say you love me
And I’ll say the same
And we’ll never walk again
These streets of shame
Take me far away
Where no one’s to blame
And we won’t have to walk
These streets of shame
I’ve been holding out
Thinkin’ you’d let go
But your shadow tails me
To faraway parts of my heart
In those dark rooms you call home
Me? I’ve stopped waiting for our Messiah’s return
And watch the football
As well as all the moves you make
In your quest to break me with jealousy
But haven’t you hurt me enough?
Don’t you feel pity?
For your pathetic victims
Whose only crime was trusting you enough to love?
You could’ve warned me
But I guess you didn’t love me enough to do so
Or perhaps it’s more fun
To see a fool stumble
And get up with nowhere to go
His dignity in tatters
As you snigger at his back
Don’t you know I can’t go home anymore?
My parents are gone
There’s nowhere I can turn
No unconditional arms to hold me
When I break
No comforting whispers in my ear, “It’s alright, darling…It’s alright”
So forgive me
If I’ve become tough
And my eyes glaze
When you want them to connect
I just fear that one tear
Could burst the dam
And I may not be able to stop
And that would be embarrassing
At any age
Don’t you think?
I remember every word you ever threw at me
I wear them like scars on my skin
Each stab wound
Designed to teach me
How mortal I am
You almost loved me to death
But it’s cool
I ain’t complainin’
The crops look good
And it’s rainin’
Nothing to fear
Unless it floods
I just watched another cowboy movie
To get my mind off you
But it came out all wrong
And reminded me of us
The good guys got away
The credits rolled and they played a song
A cheap one
And I got to wondering
Just who the savages were
History is written by liars
Then over-written by Hollywood hacks
And this is our foundation for everything we hold to be true
They have rendered us insane
Born into bullshit
Then fed it on a daily basis
Our judgements and decisions
Are bound to be inadmissible
But that doesn’t stop us
For our skin is white
And superiority is thy name
Although our house of cards is crumbling
I don’t blame you, baby
You were poisoned at birth
Just like me
We just got it all wrong
And sometimes when the surface noise dies down
And I am calm enough
To reach inside of me
And find the best of who I could be
I still love you, baby
I still love you
“What is mine is mine and what is yours is mine too.” That attitude has pretty much brought the world to its knees. So much childish behaviour from so many allegedly brilliant human beings through the ages. But very few of us ever grow up, really, we just just become bigger children and dress more in keeping with what is expected of adults so we can get a pay cheque.
Marriages are broken because “You looked at that woman longer than you looked at me.” Friendships are destroyed because “I thought you were my friend but you stole from me. And I gave you so much!” Countries go to war because “We have bigger weapons than yours and we need someone to bow down to us so we feel important.” We see beauty in the landscape of the world and feel that something superior to us must’ve created it so we get envious and cut down the trees, pave the ground, damn the rivers, use the oceans as a rubbish dump, and build skyscrapers that are monuments to our own ego. “Look what we can do!”
But then again, calling all that childish is an insult to most children. It is, in fact, the very worst of us. At any age. Reducing the spirituality of things that there are no answers for to something we can dissect and misunderstand. Men worship at the stagnant pool of their own reflection while women get sexually excited by bank accounts and are seduced into a lifelong prison of their own making. We always aim so low. The bottom feeders. Men and women have lost their identity and their way. The first casualty was romance. Today we don’t have time for that. Let alone getting to know someone. We just want an app that tells us what street corner you’re on and if you have 30 minutes to spare. Sex is no longer intimate. Not like a kiss used to be. Nudity is no longer revealing. Not like a conversation is. And real life is play acting the persona you think will go over best to achieve what you crave. But then the more you get the less it means until you realise it’s all been for nothing. You have nothing. You are nothing. Your relationships are nothing. Your forecast is nothing for there is nothing you can take from this life that you’ve given so little to.
God, that genius in the sky, has given us free will in which to entrap ourselves.
“It’s not fair!…it’s not fair!” We scream as we run hatless through deserted streets trying to find eyes that will look upon us with some pity for the self-inflicted mess we have found ourselves in. But we are alone. As we have always really been. And that realisation kills more than all the troops Caesar commanded.
There was a man from humble beginnings, some say a broken home, who came forward and told us he had the answer. Which, in a nutshell, was this – All we had to do was love each other, and do the right thing, and we would be filled with such an inner joy we’d think we were in heaven.
We killed him. He was obviously a lunatic. And dangerous to our view of the world and each other. Besides, his concept had nothing to do with anything. There was no money in it. And money is the only way we can put a value on something.
After that, every few decades threw up another messianic lunatic that told us “all we need is love.” But no. All we needed, it seemed, was to kill these misguided lunatics and then we felt safe again.
Now we have evolved and have TV shows like “Survivor” that teach us, and the younger generation, that if you pretend to be someone you’re not, and lie, and plot, and betray the people you’ve hoodwinked into thinking you’re their friend, you emerge as the winner. The producers will bestow riches upon you and for 15 minutes you will be a star.
This of course confirms that the world has entered the end game and at night, if you have any spirit left, you may hear the faraway faint cries of thousands of broken, despairing messiahs who died in vain thinking they could make a difference.
I believe that the creatures of the earth have lodged a petition with the United Nations documenting their outrage at being labeled “animals” and that the title rightfully belongs to us.