They brought me into a dark room with but only one window and layed me against the cold, concrete wall. The room had nothing but solitary confinement for me and it poured rain for days, the pattering of the droplets hitting the window was the only thing that kept me sane. I would look up at the window as it sat there on the ceiling and gaze into the night sky for hours at a time, trying to convince myself that God could see me and hear my suffering and that all this was happening as a test of my faith for the greater good. I did not pray for my hands were bound and my soul was weighted by my captor.
   After some odd days, 3 men came into my confinement and breached my reflection. They released me from the cold concrete wall and brought me over a bucket of ice water. Without warning, one violently grasped my hair and flung my head into the water for many minutes it seemed, only pulling me out when I released my breath and then immediately putting me under once again. This would continue for hours over a period of several days.
  For those of you with faint hearts and an optimistic conscience, this is not a story with a glorious ending in which justice is served and the faith prevails. This is the story of how I became a martyr. After a multitude of days of this torture proceeding, one of the men had asked me, "Why do you still have faith in this God of yours if he does not save you? He has either shown himself to be false or does not care for your life."
  Solemnly, I responded as simply as it came to me. "Because God has power, God is the essence of all of our beings and what we are bound to. I do not love God because he is kind, because he is forgiving, because he is gentle and there for me always. I love God because he is something I do not know, and I can not change. God is omniscient because humans can not overpower God, whatever we learn, God knows, and that is the way it has always been. God is not a being at all, God is an idea, God is a motion, God is a thought with the power to conquer everything, God is a feeling that creates all emotion, God is the blueprint for everything that exists, God is everywhere. How do you not acknowledge what is so present and alive within you? God gives me determination which fuels willpower, and where there is a will there is a cause to which I am guaranteed to succeed. All so through the power of the universal spirit present within me and all of us."
   The man was absolutely bewildered and obviously confused, and continued to comply in my test of faith. "But if he has the power to set you free, as you are somewhat saying, why has he not?" And without letting me respond he once again interrupted. "Is it because your God is not present? He can not be with you in your confinement. Where is your God?"
   This was a question I was on the verge of discovering the answer to myself. If God could set me free, why had he not? But the answer was simple as it swept through me. With the grace of an angel, a raindrop fell from between the seams of the window and landed on my cheek. I looked up into the night sky once again and understood. God is in the rain.

Why are you so weak?
Why are you letting yourself reek?
Is it cause I'm so  complicated  to deal with?
Or, has your perspective of happiness changed...where you believe that a happy life is just a myth?
Mom, are you going mad?
Because each day now, I feel like you're see everything bad.
Is it me? Is it sis? Is it Dad?
Mom, you're starting to make me feel selfish now.
I feel like I sucked the life out of you.
Now you believe that everything you give...just won't do.
It's 12:39 in the morning.
And here I am...mourning.
Mom, you're hurting me too.
Because you don't realize how much I love you too.
Mom, are you sure you're okay?
Because I know you're not.
And even if you push me... I won't go away.
Is it cause you're getting old?
It's okay if that's how you feel...I want to know what's going on,
because it seems like you're not letting your feelings unfold.
Mom, so please tell me that it's me.
Molding your feelings inside is a bad idea...can't you see?
-e.c

Ideas and the

                      lack of them

                                  can cause disease


in the
                                  tips
                                     of yellowed
                                     fingers
from too many cigarettes
                 you will find scars
                                 that i was unaware of

Did you know that;
that in Hello Poetry,
Which is the world we inhabit;
There is so much jealousy
that people and their poetry
Are sidelined and scorned
Cos they don’t toe the line of the gentry
The poets then are conned
Into believing they are worthless
While the gentry who think they own this place
Do not realize that they are the useless
For such poets will always find their space
For Dawn had disappeared
Due to their insufferable suffering
And the squares have reappeared
Cause of their own believing
To face the politics of Hello poetry
And its own unique gentry

The world is full of hack boys
Who just cause they are computer whizzes
Assume they can hack my mind with their toys
And when they experience the power of the mind
Their own bearings they cannot find
For my pen or my computer
Is much more powerful than their toys
And with me rests the future
While they the past will be due to their ploys
For we are those who walk alone
And are not disturbed by the stone
Strewn in our paths while we do shine
Like beaten gold or like vintage wine
For we are those who walk alone
And have nothing to do with those who moan

We are all just mere victims
Of people who pursue hidden agendas
Of their own fancies and their whims
Games of people and their vendettas;
While we the simple and gullible
Are caught in the cross fire
And suffer problems unimaginable;
Until the protagonist doth tire
And let us pursue our goal
Which by then become intangible;
So that we end up caught in the shoal
And still remain eligible
And do not victimize those who try
Those who mean to, us destroy
To destroy us and doth us fry
But we are like Helen of Troy
The cause of wars of the world
For we are all just mere victims
Of people who pursue agendas
Which are unworthy even of our rectums

To the husband to the wife.
Turn to them and say, you love them.
To the wife to the husband.
Turn to them and say, you love them.

Why?
Do it have to be an anniversary?
Or, even your birthday.

To a woman to her lover?
I'm speaking only of one.
Not multiple ones.
Tell your man, you adore them.

To the man to his love.
Tell her, of the many ways to adore them.

It been said words don't need to be spoken.
When the things you do, do it.
But words of expression says more.
Then many people think possible.

I'm calling all lovers to speak up.
And profess your feelings to your sweetheart.
It should be a law.
A requirement to speak it.
But then that would make it meaningless.

When you can speak it with truth.
Cause it's not hard to say, I love you.

Most times I find myself lost
Lost in times, places,
Held captive in my thoughts
It's ok it's ok it's ok
The grass helps me forget
As I lay absorbed in its warmth.
There is smoke in the distance,
Or is it right next to me?
I don't know anymore

Nor do I care
I just let myself go off most times
I love to go off most times,
As much as I loved my family
Who stood by my side 'til their end.

My dear sister was quite the artist
Quite the artist indeed
She had this distinct flight in her work,
Or was it flow?
I'm getting lost again.
These colors they did cling to each other
As if they've known each other since long ago.
I would get lost in these paintings
And would remember the times I saw these colors,
Like the blue in the bay
Protected by the army,
Like the brown windmill
That I climbed with my best friend,
Damn I forgot he was there with me,
Like the yellow in my dog's eyes
When she and I saw a man burn to death.
It's too bad Auntie hid those paintings
Beyond the basement.

My father died in the Korean War,
Oh captain, my captain
You failed to return
But don't fret
I raised my flag for you this morning
And every morning,
Waiting for your safe return.

You had dark eyes, right?
Yes, you had to have dark eyes
Only dark men have dark eyes, but
You did it for a good cause dear father
And for your country you swam on that iron boat
And died just like your sweet daughter:
Hanging yourself because you could not find success with your art.
Wait, that's not right.
Your art was success, Sun Tzu would be proud
Of your noble smooth sacrifice,
All the while taking on the pitter-patter of rain.

My mother died just now,
Yeah just now in front of my eyes.
It's weird to see her like this
All old, cold, and stiff.
Maybe she's nervous, don't know why
She's going to a good place.
Might just be the rigor mortis kicking in,
My mother was always a speedy one
Never skipping a beat
Or strum
Or note.
Funny for her to be sitting
Directing phone calls
Which would end up being lost anyway
Because no one knew how to talk back then,
Not after the Korean War.

There was one song my mom would sing,
Not sing actually just hum
I don't know what song it was
I believed she made it up,
Which was so brilliant.
Sometimes I would close my eyes
(Like I'm doing right now)
And insert words into my mother's song.
I would sing things like:
How long are you gonna let it rain
Shifting through the tides of pain
You lost yourself for good this time
Dear boy you got yourself a rhyme.
That's what music sounded like to me back then,
Hell it still does.
Guess that means I'm still lost then, huh?

i walked into the night,
and felt the cool air's breeze.
stepping away every once in awhile
usually gives me enough to release.
in an attempt to sober up from binge thinking,
i noticed i was alone, moreso than usual.
not a single car on the street,
no single individual.

this is common after midnight
but i thought there had to be someone who is also deprived of sunlight.
it was then that i was blinded by unusual headlights
on a vehicle known as hindsight.  
abandoned the instincts of fight or flight,
because i was curious.  
it turned into my driveway.
it felt as though there were some undiscovered forces at play,
as i lay in wait.

the door opened up, and a man with a bright white aura stepped into view.
i gazed upon his face and then was at a complete loss as to what to do..
he looked at me, smiled, and said, " yes, that particular thought is correct,
i am you.

you needed someone, and so here we are.  
see this distance between you and your true self aren't so far apart.
it gets hard, when dealing with passions of the heart,
but every day, every minute...moment, can be a new start."

Everything happens as it's meant to, though, right?

" destinies are in the hands of everyone who believes it,
but most don't see to seize it."

are you, God? an Angel?  a jester in disguise?

"you naturally won't want to accept this statement initially,
but i will tell you no lies.  i am from a faction of lightbearers,
to help illuminate the path.  the variables you add and subtract though, changes the outcome like math, heh heh."

where am i to go?

" you are not to know, yet, what's the fun in that?"

true, but then what about this,' shedding light on the path'?

"all that is within you, is everything.  unlimited potential and power to benefit the universe.
before i disperse back into the cosmos, i am here to ensure that your own light grows.  the love you emit causes radiated blooming within the chakras of others, but your aura has diminished, do you know why this is?"

fear?

"love."

but wait..

" embrace all that you are, Ryan.  i needed to remind you that you are loved deeply.  take care of yourself, so to not be the cause of your own reaping.  your efforts are never exhausted, i see and appreciate all you do, with a smile.  now go the extra mile, cross the line and let your divine shine through.  you are never alone, remember things from the past you wrote.  every word still holds true.
i must be leaving, but listen to what's inside when you're unsure of what to do.  Namaste, Ryan."

but wait! who really are you??

as I stood in bewilderment, he ascended into the sky with a smile, and his vehicle disappeared.  
would this interaction have happened had i displayed my primal urges of fear?
when he was no more than a sparkle in the eye that is the ever-expanding sky
i didn't feel so dry and lifeless, but rather moist with creative juices from all that sunk in.
and the warmth, it was a love you could touch without touching.
this is what i was missing.
and so when reminiscing, i show gratitude and blissful appreciation,
because too much can be lost in the translation of contemplation.