The Death of the Phoenix

There is a zone,

I used to live in,

Too far from home,

And too deep within.

The pride, the glory,

The victories, the pain,

Ended has the story,

Hard work done in vain,

Once again, people you trust,

Fail you, in the time of need,

Foolishly act the wisest,

Gorging on the lies idiots feed,

Sanity is lost,

Hurt is the pride,

Too high the cost,

Too low the tide,

A change awaits,

eagerly spreading wings,

The depths are great,

And the heights towering,

The plunge inevitable,

The truth difficult to deny,

The challenge irresistable,

The phoenix ready to fly,

No longer shall it burn,

And search for its ashes to rise,

A dragon it becomes,

And even higher it flies,

The times are changing,

The phoenix as well,

Feathers no longer burning,

But the fire rages still,

Their minds too thin,

My dreams are too great,

For my thoughts begin,

Where theirs begin to fade.

Along the road to nowhere

Along the road to nowhere,
In a car sat the Priest and I,
He gazed out the window,
Watching the streetlights flashing by,

We stopped along a bridge,
To take in the river, the sun, and the moon,
And to give ourselves some rest,
We had been travelling since noon,

He looked at the sun as it set,
“Is there anything more powerful than God?”
“I believe it’s called the Big Bang Theory,
A scientific phenomenon and not the power of the lord”

He seemed to be perturbed,
The insolent atheist in me had uttered,
And thus began a useless debate,
And his responses were too cluttered

We came back to the car,
And noticed a tire had gone flat,
I took a deep breath,
As he saw god’s hand in that,

“God has punished you,
For all your blasphemies and sins,
For denying his authority,
And for questioning his existence.”

I smiled and looked at him,
And looked him straight in the eye,
And asked him a simple question,
And I simply asked him “why?

If your god is forgiving,
Compassionate, benevolent, and kind,
Then how can the words,
Of an atheist, make him lose his mind?

Is he so insecure?
That a logical argument is difficult to fathom,
That fact is ignored for blind faith,
And attributed to reasons random?

No, dear friend,
His existence is not what I question,
I question you,
And I question your interpretation.”

He seemed to be,
At a loss of words, and unable to comprehend,
He looked at the flat tire,
And then at me, then across the river-bend,

“God will help me,
Out of this situation, as I shall pray with all my zeal,”
“God helps those who help themselves,
And by the way, it’s called a spare wheel!”

For my friends

Old stories are forgotten, as new ones are told,
Of days spent in the company, of friends new and old,
A common thread binds, memories, friends, and days forgone,
And gently forms the tune, of another memorable song,
A song that has been sung, to friends old and new,
And today I sang the song, alone with a brew,
You, my friend, are precious, let that thought stay,
I may not believe in god, but for you I shall pray,
That someday you may find, someone who is a friend,
Like you are to me, and never lose them to time, marriage, or end.

another iGoogle Quote

"Few people can see genius in someone who has offended them."
- Robertson Davies

Summarizes a major part of my life....