Portrait of a senseless tragedy (Fatal Addiction)

    Tortured souls and darkened hearts, hardened by the atrocities the eyes have looked upon with casual indifference for so long. Beauty seems lost to the sensibilities of the spiritually barren beings whose sole purpose is to keep kindled a meaningless existence. The potential damned and the inherent beauty never realized is the tragedy of reality when the perception becomes one of complete absence of self worth.

   Was it really so long ago when things were much different? When the path that led to this dark place was not so overwhelmingly present? When exquisite grace and soft sensibilities could still be glimpsed in the mirror?  In remembering those times it seems like just yesterday, but somehow, as things have become excruciatingly evident, also seems like a million years have passed since that time of carefree innocence, and the signs of things to come were not so foreboding.

   This must serve as a constant reminder that far too often the other cheek is turned away from the horrific truths and the worlds sons and  daughters are left to join the ranks of the walking dead, as the flame that is their spirit and will to survive flickers in the breeze and is finally extinguished by the cruel hand of fate.

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The Angel and the Demon (A silent war)

 

    A war is being waged…. A silent but undeniable war. Fought each and every day in the hearts, minds, and souls of each member of our earthly  existence.

  Jokes have been made and nervous laughter can be heard, perhaps in an effort to downplay the severity of these personal subliminal struggles. A continual confrontation of cast outs and favored angels, tormentors of souls and saviors of the virtuous, all grappling in an unseen battle for the conscious mind.

  White veils of angelic softness wage wars of suggestion with evil as hard as forged steel. Promises of eternal life and everlasting peace fall on deaf ears that hear only the assurances of infinite ecstasy in a kingdom of amoral carnal debauchery.

  Many have made mention of the ANGEL and the DEMON. Often times in a lighthearted manner, seemingly to ease the discomfort. Discomfort brought by the endless struggle to choose that which is right or that which is pleasurable and dangerous.

  We all know these entities well. Each one takes its rightful place on either side of us. Whispering in our ear, speaking clearly, or even the occasional shouting of suggestions and  commands. I must tell you, however, that I am  no longer a puppet. No more am I the pawn in this treacherous game of manipulative influence. My will is no longer being coaxed in separate directions while my conscious mind questions its decisions.

  For the battle that was waged for me has been won and the battlefield has gone  quiet. I will never again question the actions taken to appease the constant direction being  forced upon me from either side. For the DEMON beside me has chased the ANGEL away. The ANGEL could no longer fight the undeniable strength and cunning influence the DEMON  possessed. I have found my single direction and guide through the remainder of my earthly journey. My shepherd and fellow traveler from this day on, this “DEVIL  on my shoulder” if you will, can only be known as “MY IMAGINATION”

Huntress

What we have become…..

 

  Anger, resentment, frustration, and an overwhelming sense of futility. These emotions cannot be denied in my present reality. However, I am most assuredly not alone in my plight. This sentiment is made abundantly clear  to me by the emphatic voices of my peers and colleagues.  Friends and foes alike cry out at the injustices being served by the ruthless perpetuity that defines the corporate machine.

  We have been reduced to nothing more than numbers. Barcodes to be more precise. To the ones who control the things that affect us most we are really nothing more than a series of seemingly random lines varying in thickness representing some impersonal numerical code. The human factor no longer exists when things are examined from this perspective. We are not even a tiny spoke in the great big wheel, but rather miniscule grains of sand being driven further into the ground as that wheel of progress rolls onward, and the giant known as greed uses the working class as stepping stones in its quest for MORE.

  Our triumphs go remarkably unnoticed while the smallest errors get brought into pinpoint focus. The only true success now is to remain invisible, because to be noticed surely means you have been found lacking.  Each day the microscope under which we are observed gets more powerful and our flaws become more evident while our true value goes tragically undetected. 

  It is because of all this that I call out my plea to any and all who are fortunate enough to be living out a dream as a means of making ends meet in this brutal day to day existence. For if you truly enjoy what you do as a means of survival than I must applaud you with both admiration and a tinge of jealousy. I wish nothing more than to wake with a smile and eagerly anticipate what the day holds in store for me. So if you find my dream your reality, you must promise me this…..  That you will never become complacent or take for granted the good fortune you hold. Smile and remember those less fortunate. Not just remember, but make a promise to yourself to NEVER FORGET.                

Nyctophiliac

FOUR

  First came the RAINS….Steadily pouring for what seemed like an  eternity. Winds blew strong and  hard from  every direction bringing with it sharp whistles and crude  whispers of the events that were going to transpire. Deaf to the warnings  being brought forth by the ceaseless storm, The worlds population  remained oblivious to the imminent destruction about to be wrought on a  home so taken for granted.

  It came from the EAST. starting as a very low rumble, as  steady and unrelenting as the rain, and continuing for forty  days and forty nights. The rumble became louder and more  persistent as the days and nights passed. Soon what began as a low  undecipherable rumble became this Thunderous roar which was being spoken of by many, but  understood by none. With each passing day it became clear  that the rumble was unmistakably the sound of charging horses. Galloping steadily  and with great haste toward the unsuspecting masses.

   The sound being put  forth by the oncoming charge was that of SIXTEEN  hooves pushing onward through  the driving rain, while simultaneously setting fire to the earth with each forceful stride.  Flames rose high behind them, impervious to the sheets of rain falling from the  sky. Sixteen hooves, driving  four thundering steeds. Atop each sinewy mount rode a familiar  horseman. First mentioned in the  BIBLE, the horsemen were that of Conquest, War, Famine, and  DEATH……….For they were the four horsemen of the apocalypse and their journey will bring certain doom to all mankind.

  Riding single file they  take their positions in an ominous line of swift efficient  punishment.First is Conquest, riding a white horse and wielding a bow, bringing all to their knees with ease and force. Second comes a red steed ridden by the  horseman swinging the sword of War, followed by a black horse and a rider holding scales as if to  measure the weight of atrocities committed and balance them with punishment due.  This is the horseman of Famine bringing hunger and desperation to the war torn land. And  last…. riding a pale horse and clutching a scythe, the horseman of DEATH brings plagues and disease to the last of the human race before  collecting their souls for the final RECKONING.

  With the day of final  judgement complete, the souls of all mankind  have been taken for the last appraisal. As the world washes away and burns to ash simultaneously, the FOUR take  their swift departure to the west, leaving only destruction and ghostly whispers of distant memories. Memories of a once thriving population. One not so bent on self destruction and utter disregard for their surroundings.

  What could bring such a horrific demise to  an entire planet rich with  resource and bountiful in its raw beauty? Most certainly the catalyst for the  swift destruction of all the worlds people  was the never ending Greed. Greed for wealth…Greed for power…..Greed for  higher status both in politics and in  religion…..And finally the ultimate reason for Apocalyptic Doom? The  irreversible damage being done to the Exquisite home bestowed upon us by the Creator of all that is good and kind. WHOMEVER that shall be. For the anger caused by  the reckless destruction of such a beautiful gift, was undoubtedly what brought  the “Quartet of  DELIVERANCE” charging  through the land……

 

Electric Serpent

Another thing that I enjoy is finding visually striking images and creating original captions or quotes for them. Motivational poster style. Enjoy……

MY MUSE

  There are many who I can point to directly  that have a definite influence on my tireless imagination. The list is long with people who drive my creative impulse. But I must take the opportunity to bring to light one in particular. Someone who captures my imagination like lightning in a bottle, only to use it to further stoke my passion for the exploration of life through my wandering thoughts.

  She arrives to me in my daydreams as if carried by the wings of a dragon. An inspiration so powerful that she too must be a mythical creature. But I know it is real. So real in fact, that she makes my world of thought come to life in a vivid collection of images and words. The perfect contrast and compliment to my imagination and reality. The push to my pull, light to my dark, and perpetually the balance to any wavering of personal well being. The perfect answers to all of my questions, and better still the right questions to my many answers.

  She undoubtedly is the creative YIN to my imaginative YANG. For this I am eternally grateful, and I hope she is able to recognize how instrumental she is in my journey to explore the twisting, shadow fallen path that is the roadmap to my creative mind. My greatest hope is that she will remain by my side, or never be so far away that I am not able to draw from her bottomless well of inspiration. For all this, the only emotions I can put forth now are heartfelt gratitude, and endless thanks to you…….MY MUSE.