Forbiden Topic

Often time it is said that we will never fully understand the concept of God, as He is too complex for us to fathom. It seems to be a reoccurring argument that God is the greatest that anything could be, and yet he seems to have not given his children the ability to fully grasp his understanding.

Consider our own offspring and the infamous question "Where do baby's come from?" As parents, or even society, we provide as complete of an overview of the process as possible. It is until the question develops to "Where did we all come from?" do we stutter and offer, at best, ideas that we may have concocted. I believe that any parent, if infused with the answer, would provide the details to their children. However, humans have apparently been denied the possibility to completely understand God's existence. Furthermore, there seems to be the same disability for God to provide us with answers as we have as parents, mentors, as beings.

This raises a question in my mind regarding the omnipotence of God. Clearly there is limitation to his power and flaws to his character. The flaws are perhaps most clearly visible when we consider our own lacking. Why should we be created in a way that is unable to understand our own creation? Was this beyond His limitations, or is He perhaps feel that we are unworthy of this gift? Does he value himself so highly as to deny us the ability to love Him in the same way we love our family? I feel that either of those points suggest that the traditional God of the western world is in fact not perfect, but shares the same concept of vanity, pride or at least the limitations of creation.

On the other hand, perhaps He is neither vain nor proud. Perhaps he understands, much like any other parent, that one day the child will grow up and need to leave its home. Maybe He understands the pain and discomfort associated with fending for oneself and in turn realizes that it may be best for us not to know of his existence. Perhaps we were given free will, and the lack of understanding as a symbol of our release.

Obviously, both of these ideas can derive others along those same lines. To me it seems apparent that in order for the Creator to be free of flaw, there must be no demand of allegiance or sacrifice. However, it is also simple to consider that if God does wish us worship him in a neutral way, there was clearly a design flaw to make us unable to comprehend his existence fully.

There is, however another idea, which may rest slightly better with many, but still stir the feathers of those whom have dedicated their life to faith and unquestionable belief. That idea, unfortunately, will be left for another day.

Words

I can not find the words describe
Some the stories I imbibe.
The meaning I assume imply
They were my doing - not a lie.
Other tasks have long been told.
Words of fiction typed in bold.
Padded, to be dipped in gold.
Not to me have they been sold.
Times not forced to be recapped
Yet in mind, living trapped.
Memories which have been mapped
The truest ones, selfishly kept.

Reason

We often times talk ourselves into being something we're not.
My drunken state can form clear thoughts and make decisions,
with some focus and effort exerted on my behalf. Dreams are
different. In my dreams my guardian came to me and held me
back. Just knowing that she was there made a world of difference.
I tried to reason myself awake but my dream took over.
It took me to a familiar place, yet I didn't recognize it. A joy
came over me as though I belonged there, a feeling I've only
felt once before. I slowly began to wake up, finding myself
trying to hold onto my dream. Perhaps if I make it a memory
it will change me. I'll reason that it wasn't a dream, but an
experience.

Challanges

What draws us to doing? Is it the struggle?
Perhaps it is the peace of mind and feeling.
Accomplishment is a great reward. Like a baby
first learning to walk, my greater challenge
now faced one step at a time. I may trip and
lose my balance, but I believe that soon I will
be running with the best of them, without the
crutches that seem to make my steps painless.
My games of stooping low until near crawl
will stop. I've lost once and after learning to
stand tall, there will be no sense in playing again.

Conversation

Bring down your nose and move your lips
Entertain the crowd with well spoken quips
Speak your ideas without versed scripts
And don't be afraid if your main thought flips.

Don't try to pretend to be a sage
Locking your mind into a closed cage.
Just as a book, let folks read your page.
And don't let your passion turn into rage.

Thinking too much can be a curse
Preventing your actions, or even worse
conforming your words to predefined verse.
Instead let your worries be simple and terse.

Irony

Roscoe, the old Polak. Just as I thought of stashing the keys I saw him thumbing his way home. To my surprise, he spoke the language without ever spending time in the old country. Caring of his arthritis poisoned mom, he is trying to rehabilitate the bum shoulder preventing him from cutting lumber. His mother was taken by the Germans at fourteen, forced into labor until the end of the war. Father was freed by the Brits and soon took arms for the Allies. Now widowed, the old lady laughed saying that she wouldn't give a penny more for a Russian than a German. My curiosity rests with how fresh this statement is. Roscoe is taking steps, hoping to do some more schooling at his ripe age. His favorite was creative writing, and I now face myself with a staple of papers; thoughts from a month of being locked away. Traffic violations he says. The old lady says I'm no longer a stranger and I made promise to come back in weeks time. Always did feel at home around Polaks.

"From on day to the next I go;
Smiling and hollering tallyho.
Can't say for a fact;
This is the way I should act.
The illusion it creates is false;
I myself am aware of its faults.
All depends on one's point of view;
To society or yourself, will you be true?"
-Roscoe

"A smile and kind word can provide warmth for three months of winter." ~

"A solution to stress is to get hilariously drunk, albeit a temporary one." ~

"I am not hard to please;
Just a simple hug and squeeze.
A friendly look and smile;
Makes everyday worthwhile.
Just to revel in the presence;
of the auro of your essence.
Of all the things that could be;
A closer shared walk with thee.
My life is already complete;
Since the day God let us meet.
Without His intervention from above;
I would never have experienced love.
Even though we are now apart;
The memories are locked forever in my heart."
- Roscoe

Memories

At sixteen I started to scribe.
Honest depictions of my mental works
flooded the space, and were left in a
corner, protected by shadows.

Depictions of after school meals, in my lonesome bedroom.
Music dancing through the room, between rays of
sunshine which baked my bed, making it scream to
be flipped like a Saturday morning pancake.

These memories were frozen as statues, to be admired
at any given moment. Collections grew and, as always,
expected to stay put. They didn't, and like anything
that's expected to be around, they're nowhere to be found.