God

Some are gifted with magic. It happens to pure hearts without expectation, without reliance. Perhaps God, is after all available, is not so silent, but is still, waiting, anticipating, looking for those headed in his direction, to impart his gift upon them. Man is vain, he gives all the credit to himself for the things that he seems to achieve. But man, cannot gift himself with a gift, he must realise his limitations, his reality. God is the highest point of achievement, and when you have reached this particular point within yourself, you are in touch with him, he is at your side, and encouraging you. God can dwell inside of you, when you yourself have given yourself to the idea of understanding, and humility is the basis of understanding always, it is aggressive in its way, and it is aggressive in its passive way, but its passive way is just a part of quietude, which is a part of peace. So I will believe in God, as I may believe in myself.

Me

I'm pretty quiet, sensitive, introspective, I like people of thought, I like very much words and music and I particularly like the power of words, I would like to meet someone who was something like me but not a mirror image, someone gentle and genuine and loving. With insight gained from the pain of living. I am separated and on my own, I am not afraid of myself so therefore am not afraid of being on my own, but I would like to link my life with someone I could progress along with mutually, I think that this has to be an important part of a relationship, unless you just want to have a relationship for relationship's sake. I am open to the idea of difference as we all are different. I don't expect anyone to be the same as I am nor will I. I will study the differences as I look to the other, I will search for the value and the beauty within that difference that I perceive and ultimately take it to my heart if it belongs to the person I truly feel bonded with. I believe that love is a miracle and I believe in love, so I don't know why I should begin to feel bonded with one and not another. I like the spiritual and pyschical aspects of love. I like the mystique and the understated and unstated, the talking with the eyes, from the questions of the soul

Orangemen

So its the twelfth of July once again, and Orangemen are remembering to be Orange and they march and they sway in their determination to rid themselves of any kind of reason. Like Ostriches with head stuck in the sand, they refuse the idea of progression. Theirs is a purely negative philosophy, and I am sorry to you, the word 'philosophy' for involving these fools in a word I particularly like, which means the love of wisdom. I wonder how much of their hatred is down to personal frustration, when they aren't together in their group, their highly suspicious and hateful group. I can't believe that luck and good fortune can ever fall to them, for anyone who believes in the basic goodness of humanity.

The Truth of the Aging Heart

Embracing the wink, his lesser self receives his smile of sane judgement. And the lady is now a suspect, although she shines in an area of cloud, in summertime nonetheless. And eyes twinkle within the entertainment, not expecting deliverance. And there is great distance, and it helps to create some kind of vagueness, obscurity even. And an empty heart is a vulnerable thing, it is hungry and can be easily gratified. And youth can very easily flatter age, it has a mighty power in its grasp, and sometimes it may know how to thrill, how to get what it wants, how to gain control. And the heart and its search can close its door to discernment. But the heart has a mind right beside its romance. The heart is not a fool when it has gained experience. It matures, as it has learned the lessons that life has put in its way. Crazy love has given way to a real love, and real love is the truth of the aging heart.

Love

Mediocrity hangs in the middle of the mountain, a misnomer, a peaceful word, when it is advertised as some kind of downfall. And in the middle, there is a reason and a solace. I wonder sometimes about definition. Words have their limits, and many misunderstandings, they will never replace feelings, sometimes they are very false in their interpretation, and they will deceive and they will attempt to fool. And then, all I have to give to you are words, when I can no longer hold you and give you the physical part of me. Our relationship is incomplete, it hungers for the reality that only truth can bring as I hunger for the part of you that only love can bring. And love is the feeling that supercedes touch and words, it stands by itself and has no master, it has no influence to adhere to, it is naked in its truth, and its truth is of beauty. And love stands still, and I so many times, look in its direction, and my look and its search seek to be in touch, to meet to become friends. And love is just itself, and is enticing, and is in a place of its own, and that particular place, is very suggestive, and it can magnetise, and when you decide to forever pursue it, you perhaps may even accidently stumble upon it.

A Candle meets the Sun

Candle flame blowing with the fan in a day of bright sun. Other seasons sleep, I wonder if they look on with a sense of intimidation? They have retired into a wilderness of their own, they are passed, but ultimately not of the past. Movement decreases and hearts are still and absorbing. A Chinese girl with a parasol, speaks to me pleasantly, yet not saying a word, nor even casting a look. I smile yet, to her fleeting presence, and when she is gone, she is not gone, she remains as a memory of the glory of the day. And the day, and its glory breathes love and it instills a beautiful spirit, there is thunder in the warmth, in the feeling projected. And the world of art is tantalised, it leans into the day, into its comfort, into its kindness and its love. And it seems the beauty of the day is an expression from love itself, and it seeks to touch the world of its subjects, it doesn't discriminate, it is free in its giving, and it dedicates itself to all and everyone.

You are what you eat

If we are what we eat, and a lot of the time we don't know what it is that goes into what we eat, does this mean that untimately, we don't know who we are?

Festival of Life

22 degrees celcius in balmy Dublin today and happy faces are ambling around, and the ladies are looking at ease, in humble attire, and the sun has infused its spirit in hearts, and the hearts have invaded the minds, and coloured thought. It is a festival of life, and for today, there is no tomorrow. Now can be all there is, that matters.

Spirit

Spirit can be a foreigner. I am thinking a series of thoughts this afternoon, purifying myself somehow, and then that thinking is over, and I makes tracks and go downtown return to my place, feeling so good. Thank you spirit. You brighten my day.

The Fool Man

The fool man submerged by his adoration of the female side of the species. And she has all the tricks of trade, and plays him. He is overwhelmed by a part of himself, he can't desist. And the lady is the artist and she is a painter and a walking deception. And he will speak of his love for her, when in reality the love that he believes that he has for her, is in his hunger. And love is the miracle, it evades, and it confuses, and it tacitly asks for understanding. It is not readily available, it desires explosion of the personal self, it isn't easy. And love is outside of physical touch, when it truly is love, and it is a unity of understanding and feeling. And when there is love, the expression of it in words, deviates from it. It is a pure thing in itself and doesn't seek accompaniment from any form or art, even though it may give itself to art also. Love I think in is silence and in the stillness and togetherness of two people. It is higher life, and it beams through the mundanity. It is alone. It is free and it is real.

Reaching Out to the Rebel

Searching into my feeling, for the place where you now are. And who will direct my direction, and who will guide me to this place? And I am open to anywhere, and I am in movement, and slowly and carefully heading myself to you. And you are next to me, and yet I must find you, and the place that this life has taken you to be in. And I have been considering different realities, and what really is the truth of a person, and in particular, what is the truth of you? And if life is an illusion, then life is a deception, and the truth of a person will not be found there. I think I am searching for the reality of you, away from the things that you did and said. I hold you inside of me, and I will hold you inside of me, until I find you, and when I find you, I will forever hold you inside of me until we are one, and then we will be together again.