Carpe Diem Weekend Meditation #98: Choka: Angels and Birds in Flight

Image by Christine Sponchia from Pixabay

soar and drift away

spread your wings and float away

flutter high in air

lifting up for bird's eye view

glide on the current

take off and rise up so high

hover overhead

levitate, luff, and then dive

flap and float about the sky

~Cie~

Daily Prompts Tumblr

OctPoWriMo 2018: Day 16: Bonded Eternally

Serab as a teenager

His twin brother Joub, slain at age 13 by Qweh's soldiers

Dearest, beloved brother

We were born in hell

Dearest, beloved brother

Never in peace to dwell

Scapegoated, seen as lesser

We were born in hell

Tortured by our oppressors

Nonetheless, we had one treasure

Scapegoated, seen as lesser

We had a blessing without measure

The bond that was between us

Nonetheless, we had one treasure

We had one another's trust

You sacrificed yourself for me 

The bond that was between us

From this grief I'll never be free

Dearest, beloved brother

Until your face I may once again see

Dearest, beloved brother

Serab

In memory of his brother, Joub

On the occasion of their sixteenth birthday

Notes:

Elf brother images purchased from 123rf.com

Creator information appears on the lower right corner of the angel and demon brother images.

Nerdy trivia, mostly for the benefit of the members of Team Netherworld.

Serab is a major character in Team Netherworld's long-running WIP, Fetch. He is the previous incarnation of the story's main male protagonist, Gerry Clifford.

In his most recent lifetime, Joub reincarnated as Gerry's younger brother, Paul. 

The brothers are platonic soul mates, who were originally the sixth and seventh sons of Lucifer. 

 Malak, the sixth son of Lucifer, later incarnated as Serab the Thief on Zecor (Zetar 6) and most recently as Gerry Clifford on Earth

Malak is of the Celestial order of Greater Spirits

Arion, the Seventh Son of Lucifer

Created by Lucifer from Malak's heartfelt wish for a best friend

Later incarnated as Joub, the twin brother of Serab, on the troubled planet Zecor 

Most recently incarnated as Paul Clifford

Arion is of the Infernal order of Greater Spirits

NaPoWriMo 2017: Day 1: A is for Angel

Did angels

Fall to Earth

Long ago?

Left behind

Did their minds

Forget their divinity

Are there souls

Who try to remember

Lifetime after lifetime

What we once were

Is this why we suffer

Why we feel too much

And sometimes

Let others use

And abuse us

Will we one day remember

And spread our wings again

Or are we

Forever

Lost?

~Thalia~

Fallen

Image by Sarolta Ban

Once upon a dream

 An angel was sent to Earth

 She has lost her way

~Cie~

Prompt Used:

Imaginary Garden With Real Toads:

Where did I come from? 

NaPoWriMo:

See notes

Notes:

This Lune addresses the metaphysical theory that I may not just be trashed out mentally ill fuckup, I may be a fallen angel. I have been studying the Lost Books of the Bible and the works of Dr. Doreen Virtue, and what I am reading rings true for me. If it makes you feel better, you can file this theory under trashed out mentally ill fuckup and just appreciate the poem, or not. I don't really care, just don't be a dick about it.

The line "once upon a dream" was inspired by the line "once upon a December," which comes from a song in the animated movie "Anastasia." I would not have come up with this if it weren't for today's NaPoWriMo prompt, so although I didn't specifically follow their instructions, they did inspire me. 

 

Hello Angel

 

Hello Angel

It is such an unhappy thing

That the world will never again know

Your beautiful smile

 

 

It is an unfathomable tragedy

That you no longer recognize

The best friend that you knew from the time of his birth

Your brother

 

 

I have to believe

That when your suffering is at an end

The light will shine in your eyes again

That you will be able to remember

And to smile

 

On the day that the Heavens finally say to you

Hello Angel

 

Love,

Cie

 

Prompt Used:

Write About

 

Notes:

Re: the top picture

The prompt provides a perfect picture, which may seem incongruous for me to use, given the heavy nature of the poem itself.

My poem's subject seems the sort of person who would have enjoyed the whimsy provided by alphabet soup.

He grew up poor. Foods like alphabet soup tend to be cheap, and kids enjoy them.

He once said that he and his siblings really never considered themselves poor. They just thought that everyone lived like they did.

He ended up becoming extremely wealthy, but I'm quite sure that he would trade it all just to know what was happening once again.

I don't care if people get tired of seeing the following graphic or hearing about this person. I'm going to keep sharing and talking about it, because it is so very necessary to understand how much we need to research the diseases that cause dementia so that we can stop them--reverse them--eradicate them. So that no more bright, good people will have their lives destroyed in this way.

 

 

My friend Dolly believes that the suffering he is enduring has the capacity to teach people who are willing to open their minds and hearts. His compassionate nature was always a lesson for others. Simply by being who he was, he was a teacher. So I can see this being true, although I'm still deeply saddened and angered that one who always tried to be kind ended up suffering so greatly.

Dolly wrote a poem about why she considers Malcolm Young to be a Bodhisattva. It is worth reading.

 

If anyone has some sort of asshat comment about his unfortunate addiction to tobacco, keep that shit to yourself. He successfully rehabilitated from alcohol addiction in 1988 and never again touched a drop of the hard stuff. That's damn commendable.

Cigarettes are a notoriously hard habit to break free from. People who have quit using heroin have said that quitting smoking cigarettes is even harder. Often it is impossible.

Commercial cigarettes have chemicals above and beyond nicotine added to the tobacco. They are made to hook smokers and keep them hooked.

I smoked for 20 years, so I'm not about to get on my high horse. Truth is, I'd still love a smoke. I quit in 2006. I still think about it often and wish I could fire one up. It's hard not to go back. However, I wasn't as addicted as some people become.

Everyone's body is different. Everyone's brain chemistry is different. No one has the right to harshly judge another's weaknesses.

Fallen Angel

Fallen Angel

My fallen angel

Wrap me in your broken wings

Let me ease your pain

~Cie~