Archive for the ‘Hoping For Some Hope’ Category

The light plays tricks on your eyes.

It was the first time I’d looked out of a window for a while.

I smiled as I gazed upon the majesty of a mighty eagle perched nearby.

Wow… Inspiration. A sign from God?

There is hope.

I blinked, my eyes a little sore, unaccustomed to the light.

Then I saw reality,

it was a fat pigeon,

and then, after a second or two,

even that was gone.




Today, tomorrow, yesterday,

totally non-linear,

open your heart and you will see,

it’s Christmas

every day.

Hope is born,

Grace dawns,


in faith,

in fact.

Let us contemplate…

Let us consider…




the celestial view.


as Earth orbits the Sun,

Pray, the Son will rise in you.


The preacher has two main churches:

one in the capital of the South,

one in New York City,

the capital of Capitalism.

I was in town, so as to speak,


having seen the preacher on TV,

opportunity and providence aligned,

I went to a sermon.

I was engaged by the Word,

the preacher was in a rich vein,

congregation inspired,


righteously hyped.

Then after an hour,

the preacher said a few banal words,

basely suggesting: “offering time”.

Buckets were passed around,

as hands reached into pockets and purses,

and the vibe changed from holy expectation to human desperation.

(Buy your blessing!

Don’t be shy…

Small plastic trinkets available in the foyer, only $49.99, plus tax…)


I’d thought New Yorkers would be more “sophisticated”,

cynical, one might say.

Turns out they’re just as desperate to believe as everybody else.



for who we are, what we bring,

value, love, increase.


fundamental human need,

without it we decrease,

collectively, individually,

we wither, die…


I pulled the book from the shelf.

“You believe that shit?” the voice from behind asked, accused.

“Uh, I’ve got faith,” I replied, surprised.

“Prosperity gospel bullshit.”

I turned around to face the man, he was black, overweight, tired-looking and cynical, giving me the impression of a lifetime of disappointment. Nonetheless, there was something about him, a residual spunk, a certain spark in the embers of his eyes. He raised his left eyebrow, looking at the cover of the book, then looked straight into my eyes, unblinking.

Seconds passed. He was waiting for me to speak, maybe he wanted the satisfaction of an argument. I hardly felt equipped to be the voice of hope.

“Well, I believe in God: the Father, Son and Holy Ghost. And I don’t see any point in believing in a God who doesn’t love me or want the best for me. Grace and peace, sure, and why not physical prosperity too? It’s not just about money. I hope I can find happiness in this life.”

“You still waiting, huh, I can see it in your eyes, like me,” he nodded as he spoke, knowingly.

“Yeah, I’m still waiting.”

“Meantime, I hope you ain’t been giving all your money to these people, trying to buy your slice of the promise,” he smiled briefly, emphasizing the word *promise*.

“No.” I shook my head and smiled in return.

“Don’t you forget it. Go well.” He turned around and walked out the bookstore.

I put the book back on the shelf and wondered about the difference between belief and faith.


Obeying my body and soul,

I opt out,

for a season or three,

I need peace,

screw your outward pretences,

fuck society’s ideas,

this is me,


The moment

and the existence of life,

perchance to sleep and dream,



close enough,

I say,


the right stuff.

The essential, personal rapture,

no one else understands.


The Duma and the Rada

sat down one day

and decided to communicate,


for the benefit of all humankind.



My eyes widened as they opened.



Of course.

It was all a dream,

I realized after I woke.


It’s true,

I’ve lost my hope and faith in this world,

in people and society,

in my own ability,

to “get on”,

to progress, as one feels one should.

(“Screw up!

Dead wood…”)

Too many disappointments,

too many reasons for disenchantment,


too much betrayal and pain,

experienced, learned and witnessed.

What’s left?

A dry husk.

A parched field.

I have no human hope,

just despair.


(the rationalists would declare),

I have a belief in miracles.

And it seems altogether more likely

to me

that my advancement will come


I therefore have hope

(I hope)

and a reason to keep living.

The Grace of God,

Holy Trinity,

Is with me.


One year follows another,

and I am painfully reminded,

amongst the whirlwind of confusion and bad memories

(everything seems to conspire against me,

against us),

and I am so sorry,

it truly stabs at my heart,

my beloved friend,

if only I could do more…

If only I could pave a way



the Book Cover Life.

If only I could break the stones

and mend the heartbreak,

change words, actions,

malevolence, perfidy,


things that should never have been.

Rest, reprise, reflect, regenerate, resurrect.

Hope in a savior beyond words, what else?

(And I pray and I believe.


sweet dreams to follow,

I see you front and center.

Book Cover Life,

where you deserve to be.)


So tired of life, people, society,

incessant blaring noise and chatter,

hollow, treacherous and meaningless.

Sleep my only true friend.

Yes, friend.

Friend, when blank and dreamless.

Friend, when dreams are

whatever they may be:

banal, terrifying, comforting, wet, creative, inspiring… free.


the half-life of restoration

and escape,


so much better than waking-life,

a glimpse of heaven, I believe.

As The Bible suggests, I labor to enter into the rest.