Unknowing Anger

A sad kind of anger from a one, unknowing. Close to one of mine. Another part of me. I know then, that I should stand lateral. Have nothing to say, nothing to convey. The victory is in the peace within the silence. I can now choose whether to be confounded or whether to nod to the other in a compassionate way, having sympathy.

The Master of our Dreams

Memories seem to be intertwined with dreams. Dreams seem to live in themselves. They pay not a lot of heed, to the dreamer of them. So is the dreamer of the dream, a slave to the dream? Or suspiciously, is he in command of his dream? Does sleep make him susceptible to outside influences? So when there is sleep, are we at risk? And is sleep an example of a daily death? And if sleep is death then does it mean that death itself can conquer us and control us, acting upon our memories. And is death the greatest victory for the master of our dreams?

A Spade

A spade is most certainly a spade, although there could be something up its sleeve. Don't have an Ostrich type heart. Put it on display, nurture it, and project. Prepare to meet all of your desires. Both truth and fiction are part of the whole. Nothing should be remarkable. Everything should be accepted. Nothing is strange. Everything has a place in reality. Be with and stay with yourself. The blame cannot be all yours. The praise cannot be all yours either. And the blame cannot obviously be all theirs as the praise shouldn't be awarded to them exclusively.

Immigration to Ireland 2018

When there are reports of six and eight people sharing one small room, then immigration is out of control. Regulation is required and now, before there are human tragedies. When there is not the infrastructure in place in a small country like Ireland, when there are so many homeless, and there is so much pressure put on the health system, then regulation of immigration is required.

The Enlightening Spirit of a Certain Sun

The perfect kiss of love and physique. As popular as a cliche. Dreams of high release. Lost in the reason for now. The man with no name is dead. Darkly, Soulfully, Desirous. Mysteriously Dark and Soulfully Desirous. Drunken days of sobriety. New notes for a different page. The enlightening spirit of a certain sun. And the summer has come to its close and there are suggestions of another direction. Spirit be calm and be the one that guides. And the essence of spirit is now in the window. Its the self versus the weather, I suppose. I will choose the former. Singing my prayers, I look on high for the answer to my prayed song. And obviously, my song is to my God. And my God is standing in the shadows of perhaps, reality. And on this particular plane, I don't believe that anything changes anything else. And perhaps this God has no connection to a certain reality, and neither would I think, has a certain spirituality. So perhaps, we honour a certain aspect of ourselves over another. Perhaps it could be the mundane and the spiritual. And perhaps the truth of a person is in the heart of the individual. Perhaps there is a choice, a personal choice that others aren't aware of. And perhaps, we each of us are not aware of enough, to call it the truth of ourselves.