Foxes have holes, and birds have their nests, I’m pretty sure we all know the rest; conquering hero, our very own Nero, fire and blood all over the place. Did she deserve it? what do you think… Your stink covers multiple sins, you cheated your way to multiple wins, millions of victims all over the […]
Written by Jacob Ibrag I’ll steal all of her tears away. It’s the least I can do, she gives purpose to my kleptomaniac ways. I’ll adopt her stream till there’s nothing left but a smile on that face. There it is, the curvature of her lips. What I’d do to steal one kiss. She promises to never shed a single tear again. ‘But that’s how I know you’re real,’ I tell […]
Clock – The Daily Post prompt The boisterous soul rattled its crumbled house. It was the time for a respite. The feeble body let a despondent sigh. It had to set the eternal bird free for a new flight. Eyes rolled wild, the moment had come to break a life-long alliance. The breathings froze, Clock […]
Teachers always have the best debates because they are never conclusive and go on forever in a reel of counter opinions. The crafty trickery of knowledge is however not the same with the might of power. The most contrasting thing about them both is the compromising capability of the former and the complete lack of it in the latter, it is a glaring distinction.
It is obvious that when the brute force of power establishes itself by being more cautious than curious, it thrives. The complete opposite is the case with academic pursuits, in its objective of knowledge acquisition. Where knowledge will heed and be satisfied with an informed consent not concurring with its initial opinion, power will still need loud hypocrisy and the constant visible approval it gets. The friends of power stick to it because of what it gives them subsequently. They are the most unreliable sort to have around because power corrupts all and sundry, as such they will always bite the hand that feeds them eventually. It is always a matter of time.
Even death is a disciple of power by its sheer arbitrary blatant exhibition of it, with its endless spate of unannounced uncompassionate comings and goings, thievery and mystery. There is never defeating death but there is always that moment of victory in what is achieved by living and it is that victory death always seeks to negate by its very sudden brief presence. The history of every man hangs on the very thin thread of truth and this fact lingers on to suffice the near late power of death, even after it has done its worse.
While creative fiction might appear to be pleasantly rewarding, history is the truth that lingers on into oblivion. The artistic lessons of calamities in fiction do not reveal or renew like history does. There is always that tangible realistic presence in the mutual edification of history, in its descendants, that fiction can never really fully copy with its detailed ingenuity.
History is always seen to have transcended all rational understanding with its mystery, which when logically considered objectively are momentarily sincere to every factual detail. A lot is told about a people by the way they chose to reveal, tell, teach and handle their history. The manner in which they handle the extreme stress of its gory revelations alongside its proud fray, and response to allegations leveled against it, reflects on their future in more ways than they could imagine.
A MUST READ
‘If you want to change people’s minds, you need more than evidence. You need persistence. And empathy. And mostly, you need the resources to keep showing up…’ Read the rest here. Do – it’s excellent.
Many years ago I wrote “THE MASTER’S BILL”; I concluded my mutterings about the lonesomeness of human existence with wondering on how patient and tolerant the good lord is & reasoned that it is a price He must pay.
How alone can one be?
Looking around, one can only see.
Life is one big school,
Lectures are missed by the fool.
Indeed the friend is in need,
Wisdom in the foe only bid.
The whole world could be wrong
And not hear a word in your song.
For fear hasn’t a say
Where bare hands cut hay.
The master’s wishes are His will
And only He writes down the Bill.
Religious conflict has a perception of sincere truth and righteousness that doesn’t circumvent its warring parties’ hypocritical egocentric desire to be perceived as simply being neighbourly. It instead forcibly and bluntly thrust the reality of the parties’ lustful differences on their pretentious faces, enforcing it on their neighbours in a manner that shows off what each faith wants as against what they claim to profess. It should be obvious that a religion that advocates peace needs to suffer for its submissive principle. It must pay a humiliating price it can’t even humbly mention. When a religion’s ideals and principles aren’t as principally evident as it advocates, it is actually only openly good natured for the sake of achieving its quest to be dominant.
Then it would have to result to violence to stress its misgivings or show off its disliked for other opposing religions that seek to be themselves and exist alongside it. Religions must co-exist because no religion ever exists alone, on its own. A religion that hides under the guise of peaceful co-existence to impose itself is thus quite superficial and only yearning for communal peace ahead of lasting personal inner peace that would ordinarily precede first.
Such a religion has not yet made a wraith of human trans-religious harmony feasible. It has instead rendered the most sacred personality of its loud attitudinal faiths nebulous. It turns each and every one of them to be more of wholesome fact-less histories, that can never be elucidated than the proven faiths that they each aspire to be accepted as. The fact that there is only one shared common principle the two main contesting religions of Islam and Christianity sensibly have in common, makes them ever more incompatible than compatible, and pushes rather than pulls them apart. Their common principle is expressed as a common faith in the existence of a single supreme deity.
Supremacy makes it a contestable divide and not an undeniable bond. The people argue and fight over their diverse beliefs in the archaic fate of a quite varied interpretation of the same original scriptural text and thereby murder the very essence of their religions’ being in doing so. They both miss the very point of having the single attribute they each ironically lay the most loudly admitted claim to.
It is so ludicrous and incongruous that the same dog barking aggressively is actually only chasing after its own tail in circles and not really going anywhere but racing against it own self.
Fever: The Appetite of Fever (Book III)
The Poet in the Poem