Archive for the ‘Prayer…’ Category

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

in

to

the Book Cover Life.

If only I could break the stones

and mend the heartbreak,

change words, actions,

malevolence, perfidy,

perversions,

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.

Tomorrow,

sweet dreams to follow,

I see you front and center.

Book Cover Life,

where you deserve to be.)

 

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I hear my voice speaking

and realize it’s not my own,

neither the words nor the tone,

try as I might,

I have no control,

much like the tension in my face

and the wrinkles creasing,

ever increasing.

Sick and tired of being compromised.

Manipulated.

Stultified.

Desecrated.

Violated.

Implicated, extradited and extricated

by external forces.

Taken away from myself.

Compromised.

Shaped into a me that I don’t want to be.

 

Each morning I don’t

presuppose the worst will be,

pray, stability.

 

This is a shout out to those of us who have lost a parent (or two),

whether to death,

something divine,

or by ugly human betrayal,

perfidy (things which should not be!).

Love, respect and understanding to us,

we who are left behind,

in pain and confusion,

the orphans, the denied.

 

So, you had the idea and determination to follow through,

to do the right thing.

So, you find yourself beset by complications and knots that are beyond Gordian.

And, to distract yourself, you listen to the radio news

and then you realize that it’s all futile.

Humanity is screwed.

So, you get tired.

The best you can hope for is to sleep and remember the past, when there was hope and the possibility of progression (pleasing to the soul).

Waking moments, you pray in indiscernible whispers of pain.

Hoping for some hope.

… 

Do you ever resent having to pray about something? Like, a complication wrought upon you by another person, a system? Something totally unnecessary. If only people were more decent, more reasonable and moral, you wouldn’t have to waste your time with this prayer. Indeed. I feel that too.

Like, I want to pray big, life-changing, world-changing prayers. Not be limited to praying reactionary, small-scale prayers to get me rid of the shit that someone’s placed at my back-door and back to square one. I believe I’m in this world for bigger and better things than the banal crap people seem hell-bent on burdening me with. I’ll bet you do too.

So, let’s all pray in solidarity…

That we can be free from the bondages of this world, free to pursue our God-given gifts and talents and, together, we can and will make this world a better place.

Sex slaves (1).

Posted: 2016-04-20 in Anja, Blick!, Prayer..., Prostitute

Life sucks and then you die,

full of compromise.

“Fucking bitch!”, swore one to another,

as she went off, making money, denying everything proper,

her past, her present, her future,

dying a little more, every minute.

“Once a whore, always a whore,” said the wannabe wise man,

but aren’t we all,

whores?

Then there’s the modern-day slave auction,

Bulgarians are cheaper, don’t you know?

It’s prefaced in your mind with imagery of a horse drawn-carriage and Lada cars in Sofia – but surely that’s pushing it, the bounds of sick fantasy.

Still, the girls are here, regardless of you.

The poor girls, how poor, pushed into this situ,

on show, on offer, to the highest bidder,

room full of trash, exploitative scum.

Still,

these girls,

I’m surprised they’ve been allowed the luxury of underpants.

But, I suppose,

sad to say,

to these pimps,

one cunt is much the same as another.

… 

It looked like a miracle and it sounded like a miracle. We were impressed – that someone (an American!) would care enough to come to our distant region and heal this woman in front of us all.

Others followed. Indeed, we all wanted to follow. In one way or another, we all wanted to follow and probably did so, in our minds, if nothing else. A few of us nervously laughed, noticing the cameras, commenting that at the end they’d want to baptize us and it’d be like the Russian church where you had to be baptized naked as a sign of your pure acceptance of, and openness to, Christ Jesus.

Okay, maybe not tonight, I found myself thinking and that, perhaps, miracles in my life are more likely to occur in private.

Private, that is the way of Faith.

Private and still.

Still, I believe.

Still, steadfast.

Still…

Still, if I am to be an example in this world, as the Holy Word says, then why not be radiant? Miraculously obvious? … Okay, I am open!

It was a Friday night. There were thousands of us in the old Dynamo Stadium. We had a myriad of reasons for being there, from the ardent to the curious. Some wore old Orthodox Crosses prominently, some counterfeit heavy metal t-shirts. Old and young, entrepreneurs and prostitutes, all swept up in the search for something to believe in, something bigger than themselves, something to help them through the night, and next week.

There was music and singing on the stage – we only recognized a few words. We swayed and waited. Patiently.

Eventually, the superstar preacher came out with a translator and, as he said, some Holy Ghost fire…

How we wanted to touch the Americanness! … We soaked in every second-hand word. … Charismatic. … Something happened. … We worshipped.

(TBC)

So,

I turn on the TV and hear a preacher,

talking about the love of God,

the grace of God, through Christ Jesus,

how awesome and complete,

that He would bestow such on us

(amazing!),

and how full of praise and worship we should be.

I turn the TV off.

I want to feel the love of God,

I pray to feel the love of God

but I just feel empty.

I don’t feel the love of God.

… 

Obviously I’m screwed up,

when the TV people are so consumed with love and joy they literally jump up and down, hollering and whooping,

shouting things like: “Preach it preacher!”

and throwing money into a bucket.

I see the hollowness of humanity all too clearly,

greed and lies, power and corruption,

from it there seems to be no redemption.

The Holy Spirit speaks Sophia wisdom to me,

but still I don’t feel love,

only resignation.

…