Donkeys and Idiots

When I’m gone, what difference does it make

Whether or not they refer to me as the bastard of

the city, the killer of innocents or the holiest of all saints?

When I close my eyes, as far as I am concerned, the world as I know

ceases to exist.  That is life and that is reality.

This world does exist in me as I do in the world.

When I go, it makes no difference whether thousands come to see me off

or not even my closest friend or my children attend my funeral . Why should I care for the entity that

will not survive after I cease to exist. It never existed before me and will not be after me.

All I know from the past, is what I am told, not the one I experienced, may be true, maybe not.

This is the last version of my philosophy, the one that disregard all and none, one for when it was and one for when it is not.

The shell becomes empty, the laughter and sorrow fades away, joining the nothingness.

We come from vacuum and join the vacuum. All anticipations, all expectations are for donkeys and idiots.

“Salvation of Soul”

Touch my face with yours

In the arms of your dream

Comb my rained eye lashes

With the softness of your look

Tell me of the silence of your hair

Listen to my impatient chest

Be the cool sip of drink to my burning throat

Touch my face with yours

In the arms of your dream

Invite me to your eternal presence

For salvation of my scattered soul

Stop Sign

When bus stopped at cross-road

Stop sign signaled “we are civilized”

Unaware of a gunman

Hidden behind it

Who tried to hijack the bus

Man & God

Man & God

Between God and Man

There is a bond, unholy

Broken from the first day

To cast hell when he is not

Looking, unaware

To Man, his creation dominates

To bring hell and fire upon him

Way beyond his imagination,

The cast of his contents

The cast of his forms

The cast of his emptiness

The cast of his fullness

All, manifestation of what

He is not, or to be

In a long go-around

Cycle of creation and Destruction

Admiration and Disfavor

Acceptance and Rejection

Peace or War

To be or or to be

Is in full swing

That is God for you!

Man says, my own creation

Destiny

You were the bonfire

With piercing eyes and

Intoxicated but melancholy voice

From the onset you steeped in

Light as feather, delight as cold drink in summer

The origin of joy and pleasure

Scattered on your narrow shoulders

Autumn color of your hair, sunlight beam

Through the key hole of a dusty air

A road to my heart was carpeted, red and green

From the onset of your arrival

My destiny was set

 With no alternatives, no deviation

I say this was my destiny

You say that was a coincident

A point in space and time

With many variables, many outcomes

“FREEDOM”

You are the “story”
I am identified with you

In this world of “unjust”
In this world of violence
You, “The Freedom” of “To Be”
You, “The Freedom” of “Speech”
You, “The Freedom” of “Thought”
You, “The Freedom” of “Belief”
You, “The Freedom” of “Way of Life”
You, “The essence” of “Mankind”
You have been subject to “injustice”

There are people in this unjust world
Born out of “Ignorance”
Carrying a “Sacred Book” in one hand
And “Gun” in the other
To take you to “slaughter house”
To sacrifice you at the “alter” of
A false God
In the name of a “Prophet”

And there are people in this world
Who are “Hungry”, “Poor”, “Marginalized”
Yet, carrying a sign, says
“ Je suis Charlie”
“Je ne suis pas peur”

You are the “story”
We are identified with you