ways of god or the wrong reasoning of man?

"why would one not abort a fetus that doesn't have stomach and face? why would one give birth to a child that had to endure more than 20 surgeries to reconstruct the stomach and the face and still doesn't look like a human being?"


fanatic Christians that don't accept abortion.


Is this the way of god? Can such a cruel way of life be translated into some form of test from god and it's will? And man in all it's mortality carry out such cruelty or devotion ...(depending if god do exist)...if the later is not true. The capacity of man for cruelty is astounding and ..sadly righted by the false illusion of god's will.






Links :

http://www.julianawetmore.net/
http://doesgodexist.multiply.com/links/item/371/How_could_her_parents_not_abort_her

analogy of "the over-burdened"

"A place, in a wall of st anne’s church lies a symbol, image of sadness. The tomb of a person.
And I saw the always wet floors, that seems never to dry, the tears of the ones grieving. I saw yet those that are alike like this, many in numbers and much, I saw that it would be more than the angels that went with Lucifer on that fateful ancient day and that is more than a third in size in heaven. By this person’s death, her words will stop and with this end, I saw a well that many has feed on for strength and inspiration and hope….dries. This person is well...her heart is at a good place..and a person who is well at heart…And a person whose heart is not misplaced, shall be free from rules of organized religion. And still be in god’s favor. I saw a field of people, who brave art their souls… to them they have a duty to step forward to help justice. To help those who god won’t. And these people whose name is already in heaven. …..Circumstances that come before us, were not willed by us, nor wished by us..And yet they come, and with them, by them we destroy ourselves, when it comes and also others… The happiness in our world is when the suffering lights up a little, Among all the types we suffer constantly. We are lured, seduced with hope and promises…of many sorts, spiritual and mortal…and we are paid by this hope in the end, pain. Yet we will not know better and can’t till at this end, at time's end. When all is done and cannot be changed.So this end, she died. And she laid and the tomb, floor one, level 4, number 74. This end takes her far from mortality. And far from the pain mortals shall ever have. This person is named Fleur. And she is withering.Her people cry. God’s children are dying. A shout to god, your child is dying. Although, her ashes lies in just box ,trapped, but she will be free, and whatever she needs to give to this world…has been done,given. She has no debt from now."

THE OVER-BURDENED

THE OVER-BURDENED

wall of St Anne's Church,
of saline floors have urged....

More than a third in size,
will first heaven rest reside?

All ye thy words impel,
shall blight at the now still well.

Whom well, by place of heart..
manumit as thee of knell..

Forth worthies Now raise thy hands!
For thee be thus compelled

Worthy whom, shall star the sky,
After this human life…

...

When willed did us tis done?
on our own we graft..
all of mortal longings,part ourselves in halves!

the joys of our world,
levitates our tolls
doth amidst our writhes, yet amidst our woes..

Why give upon the lured?
let pain yet forth come adhered
oh wisdom must thee come dated, thence time no more procure?…

.. peaceful laid, the beautiful..
“F one L four seven four”
and ever far from now, mortal woe deplored

le garrot de “fleur”
tears watered embitter.
thy flowers fade,..Oh hear me; lord thy flower withers !

...

…within one storey within, of masters thou shalt have none, when all thou to give have no more…

© www.apoet.org, 17 NOV 2009

not up to me.

would you take... would you take it away god? I cannot do what's up to you.

reaching for god

despair drives me to illogicalness..as I become angry, I dismiss understanding...and upon things hate. Despair drives me, and thus motivates me, and my acts follows...irresponsible, careless , moralless.

a slash at the blood clouds!

no pits defines my depth, and the black therein. I shame at my own reluctance to antidote this laziness. I have exhausted myself. Spent. .. it was a feat. to replace my eyes. Eyes that do not tell a welcoming. behind the new ones, may them open wide arms ... for friendly embrace. And the effort to grow new limps and arms. For better outlook. See my vanity and the eyes for prejudice. See me as I fake myself. In a walk that differs, a talk that untells things... that might and might not be true. This must be the way of man! for it is the way of gods! A race to death...
breathless... sightless... aimless in the end. You will not retain ANY self esteem. Failed! Thy eye circles. Tiredness , do you really concur, .. adjust your self. Adjust yourself! I seek ways to excuse myself to explain myself to fool myself to console myself to believe in myself .. to comfort myself, to pride myself to lie to myself. The worse win!

The worse win! THE WORSE WINS !

across my blade, in the air, bring life to freedom! oxidise! dry to the heavens! harden be rocks in cold!!

Join mine to yours.

when as one. Be in flight....

my table.

I have on my table, plates. Plates of different kinds, and a few of them. This plate, I felt unfinished, and left unfinished. ..though I do not know if I have left it. Am I still trying? still holding it. A few plates broke. Plates break. That's one of the things that do happen to plates. Why make them then? If there are no plates, none can be broken. I imagine this plate feels for me. Yet I do not know if it wants me to finish it. I imagine with my big ego, it begging me to completed it. Furnish it.. and in the end of it's cycle, honour it. That's my imagination. I do not know for sure. A back view wrench my heart this morning. A pain so deep, you can no longer tell nor explain. It is in the end that we would come to remember the joy from it's beginning. And regret the in between. I am sick of hope. It toys us. We are but fools to it. For it means nothing and is nothing. But we hold it. Above logic, above odds. Above possibilities.
I gentle ly touch the plate with my eyes. going through it's contours...looking, re-looking...and secretly seek a respond. A sign. Ah yes, everyone believes in god. Everyone. And I have found the basis to prove that. Ah, yet now here, not now. Now I want to look at my plate.
This is time, dedicated. This is time ..quality. What can I do for you, from here? The scraps of food and broth, and sauce...taints and distracts... yet it is those that makes you. .. in way. This room dims, and the old air con duct, purrs and it's fat flap hitting back and forth the groves, made for it's exhaust to exit. It is cold. It is old. Faithfully. Voices stream in from neighbours... some whisper of secrecy and conspiracy. Some of laughter in foolishness and laughter of nothingness...whom has lost grip of sense...the fault of the world. Fault of god.
I am back here as before. I hate SO much to be back here. I sigh and despair...thinking of the journey, I have to retake, redo...and emotional crescendos I have to do again...brings me down to a dark black place. I want the last attempt to work...and fear and dread redoing of this. ...ahh. ..
..I see it near still. And it should be completed. The plate must be done. It must be completed. I shall go forward with this.

I shall.




I seek an artist, paint this for me.

two weeks ago.

.. it is in my dark times, that I discover myself. Rediscover. .. maybe redefine. re construct.....hopefully for an improvement , for the next dark wave. ...at about noon today I lost my will to continue my search and journey for "the over burdened". For in this day I have lost hope and with that interest. And most importantly purpose. .. the purpose to tell it. to show it.... yes.. and for what purpose..? for myself..? and what is that worth? It was done 2 weeks ago. it is the well spoken cycle of death and rebirth..and this way it is spiritual. And on another scale. again and again. and again. The numbers of it's repetition makes the whole issue trivial and nothings it's significance.

makes me sadder.

finding "the over burdened"

.. pretty short journey ..maybe 2-3 months....maybe it's long for a thing like this : a piece. It laid there assumed matured. For a few years. And recently I decided that it was a case of irrelevancy. And thus to over haul it. I went to places, and wondered what it shd be. And took about 2-3 months... having broken pieces of clues, fragments of idea... though it has always been known to me. I did not know or realise that it was to be. anyway... In a death , I realised, things, remember painful things which I brush…..and also found "the over-burdened" I wish it beauty, grace and poise.

le garrot de “fleur”

 

le garrot de “fleur”
tears watered embitter.
thy flowers fade,..Oh hear me;
lord thy flower withers !

© apoet 1.13pm 25 Aug 2009

http://fleurjourney.blogspot.com/

http://fleurjourney.blogspot.com/2009/08/prayers-for-flora.html

http://fleurjourney.blogspot.com/2009/08/prayers-for-flora.html

Psalm 23

"The LORD is my shepherd; I shall not want. He maketh me to lie down in green pastures: he leadeth me beside the still waters.He restoreth my soul: he leadeth me in the paths of righteousness for his name's sake.Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil: for thou art with me; thy rod and thy staff they comfort me. Thou preparest a table before me in the presence of mine enemies: thou anointest my head with oil; my cup runneth over.Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me all the days of my life: and I will dwell in the house of the LORD for ever."

by putting the death into them

a person, in adulthood already mid life. A person would have lived for many years ? But no. it was not. Person was dying throughout life. Dying till the day he would be dead.

We give something to the young and then, they totally adore it , we take it away and throw it away. And this act has to be seen by them . To burn it in front of them or throw it down the chute. And thus in their inability to grasp the concept of the sadness and fear of death, they will be able to feel what death is essentially is. A lost forever. The fear come with adulthood. They will see what they have adored being taken away , and destroy to a state of forever lost. ..into nothing. The key is the forever element... that is binding.

oh, gentle goes with scars

And came explosions, and the flying of the debris
and time is long for settling of the haze.

The unrest turns against what should have flowed
sinks the fragile to dullness till todays


oh, gentle goes with scars


© apoet 31 july 09

a sin lesser

"Wanting people to listen, you can't just tap them on the shoulder anymore. You have to hit them with a sledgehammer, and then you'll notice you've got their strict attention."

John Doe
From the Movie "se7en"

A threat of death. That points it's finger at me. Guilty. For it's fatality I listen. I would guess if else I would not. If else I shall continue being "What sick ridiculous puppets we are / and what gross little stage we dance on / What fun we have dancing and fucking / Not a care in the world / Not knowing that we are nothing / We are not what was intended." (John Doe, from the movie "se7en"), like all of us. I realise, I know and I continued at it.. feeding the wrong, feeding the sin, growing, learning to enjoy it as I enjoy it. Nudging , urging it to the ultimatum of this sin, a closure, a completeness, not really wanting it...but wondering it...edging towards it. And I had a jump start right at all. And realise and saw of it.. and what it is for what it is. and it comes to my horror, to my realisation, to awake me? And I re-know that it is wrong. and I took a step away from it...and want to take steps from now away from it.....so that I can be ....

a sin lesser.

a white parade of beach road garden

... forlorn....and the waiting... the freedom, the free..and the time..., oh so much time.. and yet time is short...but yet time is slow..... And the walk that stopped. And the wait for nothing. Because time don't, that's why they do. And so, it is...do every single one need to? No. What happen to dreams? "what happened to my sweet toddlers?" where is god's love? oh where are the meadows of life that so frequently fragrantly light up people's sky? Where is our sky? where is our one time sky that life righteously entitled us like we are equal? they are classed, as they , we join the white parade..a line of wisdom ....accompanying the beach road garden...be those of wisdom, know. be those of wisdom come prepared, light us, learn us..and lest be trying to not be like us. For in wisdom, this is sad. Oh sad.... a one time chance, and it falls like this....as the parade renews....diseased and incomplete...and so a tale. unimportant. so strange...no ones believes in the white parade..yet so did the white parade.

'The 15 years was a great blessing'

http://www.asiaone.com/Health/News/Story/A1Story20090716-155191.html



WHEN doctors discovered the unborn child had an extremely rare condition, leaving him with only 'half a heart', they tried to get his parents to abort him.

His parents refused. Doctors then gave the baby three days to live.

But Andre Tang Jia Rong ended up being his parents' 15-year miracle until he died on Sunday.

The teenager was born with hypoplastic left heart syndrome. Only the right side of his heart was formed.

Put simply, he had only half a heart to pump blood around his body.

When his parents learnt this during a scan in the 22nd week of pregnancy, doctors advised them to abort him.

According to Andre's parents, a doctor said at the time that his chances of surviving was very slim.

His mother, Mrs April Tang, 41, said: 'The doctor said I was still young... I could have another baby... We were so heartbroken.

'But I wanted to give Andre at least a chance at life, even if it cost us everything we had.

'I told him that I wanted him to have a name, an identity, an IC... And he did get one, last week.

'I wanted him to have friends, and secondary school friends, and he has tons of them.'

A close friend of the family, Mr Michael Chua, 52, said: 'As a fellow Catholic, I'm very edified by April's decision not to abort the baby although some others would have chosen to do it.

'The 15 years that Andre shared with them was a great blessing in return,' added the senior manager with The Business Times.

Andre's father is Mr Tang Ngai Kin, 55, who coaches the national women's 4x100m relay team.

In his youth, he won five silver medals in the SEA Games for decathlon, sprinting and relay events.

'Life is like a 100m race. Only when the race ends can we know who is the winner,' said the Singapore Press Holdings group account manager.

'I prayed very, very hard, and I was rewarded. He was our miracle child.

'Throughout his life, we've been through countless obstacles, ups and downs. And he has really fought the good fight.'

Andre was born on 7 Sep, 1994. He died on Sunday at about 10pm in the family's Pasir Ris home.

He had just finished watching his favourite TV show - Tom and Jerry cartoons - with his family and was tucked into bed.

Mr Tang said that he continued to watch TV with his wife, when Andre called out: 'Mummy!'

He said: 'We went to his room, and saw him sitting upright on his bed. He held his hands in front of his chest, and was shivering.'

Mr Tang called Andre's sisters, Andrea, 13, and Andreana, 10, and the whole family gathered around Andre as he died.

'I felt that his heart was slowing down, and that his hands were loosening. When he began foaming at the mouth, I knew it was the end,' he said.

Mrs Tang added: 'He left us peacefully, in my arms, just like the way I held him when he first came to us.'

Andre's family and friends describe him as 'charming', 'cheerful' and 'immaculate'.

He was the peacemaker in the family, who would solve problems instead of cause them.

As a result of his condition, the Secondary 3 ACS Barker student could not take part in most sports, and had to do many things slowly.

He typically spent 1 1/2 hours eating his meals, and could only walk for a few minutes before he felt tired.

Sometimes, he had fainting spells and had to go to the hospital.

He took up bowling as a co-curricular activity in Primary 6, but stopped after he found it too tiring to hold the bowling ball.

Instead, he focused on painting, mostly in acrylic. Last July, his work was featured in an annual art exhibition organised by the charity Very Special Arts Singapore.

Last year, he sold some of his paintings to buy a laptop computer.

His condition has been deteriorating gradually over the past two years.

Collapsed

Last September, he collapsed while in school. After that, Andre went to school for only two hours each day.

Said Mrs Tang: 'Every time he comes home, I see a very tired child. But he's smiling all the way.'

Two weeks ago, he asked his parents for a stool, so he could sit while bathing. A few days later, he asked if the maid could bathe him, his father said.

'It seemed like a bizarre thing to say at that time, but now we understand why he said it,' added Mr Tang.

Two weeks ago, Andre also asked for cream-coloured lipstick, so that people in public would not stare at his dark-coloured lips.

It seemed Andre himself was aware that his body was weakening. He asked his sister, Andrea, who is an active swimmer, to win a gold medal for him.

He left instructions to Andreana to take care of his cat, which he named 'Kiasu'. He also asked his family to leave his computer, laptop and desk as they are, because he 'will come back'.

Mr Tang said: 'Andre used to ask me: 'Why doesn't God take me back, so that in my next life, I can jump, swim, play, without catching my breath?'

'Andre would say: 'If I had a normal life, I would be better in sports than you.' He said that he would represent ACS in sports.'

It was Andre's pride in his school that motivated his family to decide to cremate him in his school uniform. His funeral will be held on Friday.

Andre's father plans to write a book about Andre's life.

Mr Tang said that before he died, Andre told his mother: 'Don't be sad. If I go, I'll be well-taken care of by God. Anyway, I'll be around. I'll be an angel looking around. I will help you all.'

'Don't worry about the funeral expenses. They will be answered. God will help us.'

This article was first published in The New Paper.

red.

.. the life of some is not as worthy as the life of some. So is the value of some is not as worthy as the value of some.

is this so in the eyes of god?

for it is so in our eyes. The eyes of human mortals.
And we are so convinced that we are the more worthy ones.
of course some of us are wrong. And forever wrong. ..which one(s) of us?

unconsiousness

... This wrong. It has to be. It has to be incorrect. How can consciousness be put to and end? How can consciousness cease to be. For each consciousnesses would have every instinct to live and survive and continue it's existence. How can consciousnesses be made to cease , end and vanish. ..forever? And some even told of it's time. This is so cruel.

the ever un-green

. I told the rest of you, that we are planned. There is no life in our concept. It is at the beginning that we are already set up failure, for an end, for death. It is at the VERY start we have already started to fail. That is the nature of our kind. And be it more sad, because we are much more intellectual less mortal than any of them. And yet we do not fully seek to admit. We are set up to die. We are all dying. Right from the time of birth, growth.. ...and deterioration thru time. We seems not suitable for this environment and place. We ..indeed cliche... we are born to die. But know that , it is longer for the body to self deteriorate, than we yourselves to catalysis it further.

our plans reflect our wisdom not. Our failure to know what it is abt the nature of our kind. We are here to take, use and disintegrate. Our failure rate is higher in terms of place and situations. Thus our plans must reflect that. Our plans shd not be long term. I see many of us create plans and await silly lengths of time for a "better" time to execute them, it is un-wise.

They plan as if they are gods and immortal.


Strange, do they think life is that long?

There is no next time, or some years later..in the future.... there is no such time

There is only time now.

Time now.


NOW.

lost and the night stalker

lost and the night stalker :

http://apoet.multiply.com/photos/album/30/lost_and_the_night_stalker.

50—year—old SingTel technical officer Ong Kian Cheong and his 46—year—old wife, UBS associate director Dorothy Chan Hien Leng

50—year—old SingTel technical officer Ong Kian Cheong

46—year—old wife, UBS associate director Dorothy Chan Hien Leng,

You deserved more than you got.

of thee , father not

.. father, we cannot win, we cannot defeated the ways of the world. It is inherently grown into the core , the roots and the hearts too deep to extract to eradicate… and I am not of worth , for this evolution…or to see it happen. I am just one me. I cannot make a difference. I cannot, father thy wish and command has fail on my weak and limp body… I have failed you. Thy grace am I unworthy. And in vain I have taken thy name. thy war, I cannot win. I shall die trying. Thy legacy of hatred, pride of the left hand…I shall end…end I shall , for I bring not this unto my sons and sons of sons.. this is a dark path, of justice and yet woe, …the way of the world vile shall defeat us. As I wishes upon our descendants the art and skill of this world…which is the art of unscrupulously… which is of honour not, integrity not, …which is of us not…of thee , father not. take this willingness away with these outflowing tears.

fa lun

Bring this theory back to where you come from. It is not welcomed here.
Don't come to our country corrupting it with your shit.

I am son.

...for the length of my youth , I had fail in wisdom to know you. To understand thy mysterious ways...rejecting the world who follow you not. Who do not at thy cross bow...hated.,..And I hated you. I fought with my rage and the strength of youth and with much ignorance. And .. it seems I might have won, even when I am wrong. ...for light came unto me, of thy depth and wisdom which now with much ages added I grasp.,..and know. The ways and whys, thy world created and stated,.oh! it's so true they say the blind do not know still even when true hits them between their eyes.... and I am so...And I see it now. ah... such truth in thy ways, comdemed.,hated...I yet I am already yours. this and that....and of all that.,.I know now the truth thou held and hold. ...such pain where no know believed and agreed...I realised that yet ...I am already yours.....

I am already son.

Broken child

There is a pair of parents crying and grieving over their child, a innocent young child, harmless and pure. Broken. His limps and body all broken into different pieces. Next I saw a toy made of plastic. It is a toy in the shape of a child. It is a toy in a shape of an innocent young child, harmless and pure and broken. This toy is to resemble that child who is broken. His limps and body broken into different pieces...

It is a toy. And it is the child of that pair of parents..

habitants of a tall white building

.. tinted is our hearts. The hearts of man. That their sleep turmoils with desire and unrest.

In a day, I walked an alley, a penumbra path of female parades. I am male today. I walked with an agenda of lust... arriving at a strange tall white building. Where access to it is up a slope..the slope begins slowly ...having stairs and railings... for one to hold on to....and further up the way... the stairs has faded...and there is only the railings to hold. The slope steepens... dangerously. I had moved too far up to back track safely. There is no grip and I am up high ... there is no stairs but just railings. One needs to carry on up.

so at last I reach a clearing... and upon my eyes rest ruins. Slumps. Of stench and filth...rust and decadence. and of algae. Yet it is not abandon at all. On the contrary , it is packed and heavily habituated. and thus a man's vice is cheaper affordable. And of a king's picking.
And I picked one. But there was two and in the room, they were two... like sisters. comforting the pain of wants. And in respond promoted me to stroke mounts of venus covered with white cloths. and we were all made to feel that we are sick ...a sickness that needs to be medicated and cured.

a kid fell.... in shock he cried.

...

...I stood...and took a deep breath of the stars.

Poetry for charity

Poetry for Charity.




Contributed.

8th april 09

I received news that I smile. I smile indeed. because I tot that these are not my foes..and could not comprehend that they were being ruthless....and I needed to be nice. and therein lies my mistake. I gave it a lot of thoughts...and came to a conclusion that no friends (or family) of mine should behaved that way...and now I come to not correct my mistake. this is not a justification of my smile. I come now to re-tilt the imbalance for myself every time I relive the incident. I come to re-tilt the equation of the shame and mockery, members of my clan has suffered under enemy jesters....and I curse the same and be it my wish that the same shall befall unto them no more NO less… I come now to seek extreme awkward situations that smiley bastards want to avoid, I come now to seek awkward situation that selfish egoistic people talk themselves away, I come now amidst broken relations and dog pride raped liketh family ties..this is not justice, this is all about I hurt you, and I feel better...I am not reasonable, I am not logical I am not affected by kindness nor bad karma. I am moved not by soft talk or penis teasing peace whispers. I Love revenge. .I come now and seek offence.

4th april 2009

god, is this all that you ask of me?

I sat in a dusty room

I carry this chunk of white paper around, and place it where I go and be happy. And at where, I place it's paper will live it's life time. The paper will decay as my happiness of there wane. aww but everything wanes....everything... if it's slow or fast.. if you think it's not changing, it's just too slow for you to see.... and with everyday I try to leave white paper as much as I can.... and especially the places ...where the white paper has turned yellow...turned to black..and to ash. you see the white paper I leave will wane in time...turning from white to yellow to black and slowly to ashes...And be blown away by them. they whom sit at places where the paper is turning...waiting for them to be turning from white to yellow and waiting till they are ashes and they who waits shall blow these ashes away...ah, I need to get to those paper that yellow and turning to ashes and try to be happy there again , for the same reason and thus I can put a white paper there.... sometimes I can . if he blows the ashes before me.. I will lose that happiness forever.

the things between you and me.

would I have sadness that you have?
would it more, would it be less?

would you have worries that I have?
without those loops on my neck

would I have burdens that you have?
which is deeper, mine or that?

would you be wishing you were me?
like me wishing you to be..

would you be as happy as you seem?
or is my happiness you foresee?

who lays claim to wisdom more?
the riches, full, wealthy & lore.

who speaks life and knows it better?
the proud and strong, or the meek and little?

will I live life just like you?
sigh in mountain air life's a beaut?

would you be sad like sometimes me?
and wish things could differ be?

would you be calm like sometimes me?
on grass be running for simple be.

why place the you in you now?
or how place the me in me now?

why is your life as you have?
mine as mine good or bad?

would you ever know of me?
and I of you a friend see..?

is me or you or you me and?
who more? when it ends.



© apoet 4.12pm 6 march 09

In the face of death

some darker place

... many years ago... about 20 years ago.. in school , in a primary school where kids should be happy and merry and most of them are. There was an event, a happening. Where the kids were ask to bring the photocopies of their parents identity card for some form of registration... the kids were excited. And were comparing faces of their parents and having a nice time.....

kid a: is that ur mom?
kid b: yes , I see..so fat?
kid a: oi !
kid c: quite pretty, think I see her before..
apoet: think I saw ur dad before.
apoet: hey how abt urs, how come urs dun have picture one?
kid d: this is my parents' death cert.

Last words

Last words

A tingling pinch
oh a secluded inch,
so requested teach
yea smack up this bitch !

like mjöllnir of thor,
seek un-breaking walls
a gesture of erks
be not like last words

©apoet 6 Feb 09

...unrest

..the ways of the violent and the rage ...that seems to turmoil even the most hidden of dreams will tortures the ones that hold them. As they seek peace which is ultimately a common longing for all...especially when near death. A wave of uncontrollable sickness and a moment of insanity takes over. And when the wave dies. One is awake and mostly in remorse. And regret. These cannot be controlled. And soon, it will take over it's host. what peace can release and cease his sickness? ah...



"takes more strength to put down my hands...than raise them to fight"

:Youth of Today.

the balance scales of libra.

in a strange twilight... where the stars do not explain the things that are being in-scripted across the skies. But are already fore see.. we do not know and could not know.. the scales .. our scales.. and for all that we have given. All that we have taken... and for all that we could have been. We stand in silence. and wonder else. Where some of us have traded the luxuries of youth for the something. And if that something is worth... ah, I do not know. I do not know for for those of us we still do not see it.. we cannot see the return of the our woes , the return of our pain... and maybe even our destiny. Is there balance in the scales of libra? in the scales of the stars and for the stars. Oh scales of heaven and balance of the stars, will see in my sight the trade of my life and tell me, will it be fair. Will justice be done? and of all the things we have ask for.,,,and of those that is fair... be returned? Will those be the one who have paid their dues? And guide us with the signs the way of life, the difference we are to make.

Thee I call thy name scales of libra, be bright as the sun of leo! tell us the path thru the moons of Capricorn! ... and lead us , tell us if not save us !

din

http://writers.multiply.com/journal/item/2375/Besides_god.

old demons

whom trampled thee,
demons vile and old.
own.

© apoet , 13 jan 09

dedicate to plat0.

humanity

may it be his house,
walls wet of humanity
learnt or loath painted.

© apoet, 11 jan 2009

Besides god.

Beside god.

“from Lourdes shall come ..”
Be with god or not,
of faith.

Could be man to man
eventually can.
forsake

..for there can be thought,
in such times of drought
of love.

and man without god
without force or loath
give love

maybe god who bless,
or of divine hands,
on us..

(but) just man can come.
with unhidden palms
awake.

and man can give,
to his fellow man
not take.


© apoet 8.07pm, 01 01 09


In our draconian times, where we are whipped with terrible diseases and along with such financial state....as mortals we are compelled to seek help. And help from something that will defy laws of our world... and that goodness will come from this.... though rare. Man can do another man goodness, without the influences of god. For while man by himself is capable of all the sins Lucifer has been accused of doing. Man too is capable of goodness, from himself and by himself..