24 April 2014

Heist.



They create restrictions to protect their inhibitions
Achieved distinctions by following directions, 
Never had hesitations-
As almost everyone listens to recommendations.
Keeping collections, 
Anything offering confusion would receive prohibition.
I am sure, you are not just another addition 
To the now subtracted, once multiplication.
Causing division, deficiancy in his vision,
For new experience.

Rolling the dice, everything has a price
Still they claim they believe in Christ
A heist-
Is all they are planning for.
Feist, they never are content.

Yet they speak of the severity of life so lightly, 
Clutching to their wallets so tightly,
Exasperating sighs at the thought of the next work day,
Nightly. 
Even though the bulbsin their marble air-conditioned hallways are still lit brightly. 

When will you be content? 
When will enough, be enough to begin enjoying and end all these worrying? 

How many more cars do you need parked in your front yard? 
How many more platinum credit cards?
How many more shirts do your maids have to starch? 
How many more others have to suffer for you to upgrade your housing,
When will you be done choosing your means of cruising? 

Are you satisfied working long hours, 
Leaving your wives alone, kids at home? 
That extra cash you spend on those antiques, to prevent those other critics,
To simply hear those words, magnifique? 
Is it worth it? 

When is it time to give back? 
Look back, in a way- 
Your greed on what you claim you need is contributing to the increase of the deceased cos they smoking crack, 
Doing smack, while you sit at home in your overly-fluffed, over-stuffed couch counting your yet another stack, 
Half of which will be used to pay your frequent visits to your overpriced local quack. 

I see the change now, with the winds getting stronger as more bow. 
The ego has become a cancer, 
Collecting all distaste and accumulating into a cyclone, 
Resulting into another bottle of whiskey and more gambling, 
Losing everything and.. 

Here you are now, looking for a solution to stop over medicating.
Ring the bell, welcome to hell, 
This is where the remains of the souls you destroyed came to lay.

11 April 2014

Appreciate A Diver



Published with navy.mil
In allowance of the American Navy for Appreciation Day 2014. 

If you ever feel the need to appreciate someone today- appreciate a diver. 

I had been one of the lucky ones whom the diver had decided to share his love of life with when he was back on predictable contemptible land in comparison to unpredictable seas. 

A salvage diver would be one who decides the comparative value and retrieves debris from debris in its aftermath. A state everyone would turn away from, struggle to look away yet do nothing about. 

One who salvages underwater- will value life more than most. Yet one would openly admit to giving in to death as no one would even have the cynical doubt they did anything less than fighting their hardest against the unknown. The ones here came out branded victorious warriors. 

One in this trade would have to pick material worth over one of breathing- even more than his own. And if one does, breathe, into another night of sleep- his drift has to be at peace with the the ones who doesn't, even if they were ones of his before. 

A diver would love talking to people more than listening. They have spent so much of their time listening to everyone's woes and the only method of help they could offer were the sighs of trapped air bubbles. The silence is too familiar to them as it is the noise they are around all the time alone with their shadows. 

A diver explores in the oceans of your tears and saves what no one else thought would ever be of worth. He would bring you back to shore, wipe you dry, and practice the art of kintsukuroi so you may be of more use to the world than you were already. Divers will see beauty in what most don't.

Appreciate a diver so you would practice appreciating sunny days and not take them for granted. Rainy thunderstorms would no longer be a setting for cuddling but rather fear of loss. You would find yourself worried with each thunderstorm and you would experience a reliving state of happiness more often each time the clouds part and as a reply notifies you of his survival. Sunshine would be the assurance of an earlier return.  He is a hero simply by living. 

You gradually develop a habit of frowning at news regarding oil spills but smile again at the remembrance of his humbleness to clean up literal messes of others' greed yet wears a sense of pride of his involvement. You would find yourself trying to save the earth, as if your change would change the world, and even if it did- even if within your lifetime. And good thing it doesn't as he would be out of a job. 

A diver would know fear better than most, understand vulnerability more than most, yet feel freedom more than most. 

I think we love the waters as that is where our heart awoke to being cared for, and everyone gets homesick. 

Ask him to do something you think is crazy and he would perform it as though it was his routine and look to be an expert at it. 

He would drive the fastest powered car and hire a mechanic to make it even faster. He would look like he had chewed fear and spat it out, rolled it and smoked it, as if the exhale of fear itself was just tobacco. And he would not be bitter about the taste, rather simply another cigarette his body just fought cancer against and won, and smile at you with those still sparkling eyes even curiosity is curious about.

A diver's body will be amazing. Irrelevant but an appreciative thought none the less. He will be well in tune with your body's movements as he has reinvented the waltz dancing away the days and nights with the seas fickle genre change. He will know when the waves are going to hit you, where the waters are deep and he can and will reach the depth no one has dared ventured. He knows your body as well as he knows the blueprint of the vessels he salvaged by first glance. 

He would be willing to give you his body and heart much more easily as his body belongs to the waters. Being a diver meant that you are now shared with the earth and yourself.

But his mind would prevent them with you. His mind had to protect his body and heart at work, to plan all outcomes before the possibilities, to believe nothing but his instincts, to recognize danger before danger itself. 

His mind would first struggle to categorize between the two ends that would never meet; and the heart eventually deciding between which was more familiar. Any first sign of would-be wreckage would cause him to unearth his anchor of a heart away to prevent ending up being dust of debris or the cause of sinking. 

He doesn't want to be rescued. He doesn't want to repair or fix anything else. He doesn't want any involvement in relation to the act of brokenness. He doesn't want to be the cause of why his job even exists. Not at where his heart is home. 

If you speak to a diver, listen to him like how he has to himself and the waters in the waters. He has given himself to the waters to prolong our lives here. 

If you ever meet a diver, thank him for actually saving the earth. 

If you ever need to appreciate someone today,
appreciate a diver.