The Big Apple

Financial capital of the word. Mecca of fashion, culture, and anything related. If there is one thing that I’ve noticed here it is this: the desire for self satisfaction drives the population to reach greater heights of social hierarchy at an  intensified rate than what I’m used to. Hence heightened is the desire for social approval through money, success, education, popularity, friendship and by any other social mean. Makes sense; seeing that no one would know your background and would judge you based solely on your immediate characteristics.

I always thought it ironic how the characteristic in which make humans human, is our errors. Like how the Greek Gods desire to know what it feels to have one day in eternity where each hour and sunset can be seen as their last. Our beauty is in our errors. Life is beautiful because there is death. Without sin, cant you see, there can be no redemption. We can only comprehend beauty because there is defeat in life. Incomprehensible is the thought of heaven, and how eternal perfection awaits. How can there be life with no death? Jesus Christ has died for all of us and we have already won – is the correct answer. True beauty, Heaven, cannot be fathomed, truly ironic, because of what makes life beautiful.

These desires which make us human caricature are need for a God who has redeemed us.

Thy Word

Thy word is a lamp unto my feet
And a light unto my path.
Thy word is a lamp unto my feet
And a light unto my path.

When I feel afraid,
And think Ive lost my way.
Still, your’e there right beside me.
Nothing will I fear
As long as you are near;
Please be near me to the end.

Thy word is a lamp unto my feet
And a light unto my path.
Thy word is a lamp unto my feet
And a light unto my path.

I will not forget
Your love for me and yet,
My heart forever is wandering.
Jesus by my guide,
And hold me to your side,
And I will love you to the end.

Nothing will I fear
As long as you are near;
Please be near me to the end.

Familiar Faces

The familiar laughter of familiar faces

reminding me of  irreplaceable years.

Quiet thoughts of dinner meals

and 9th avenue jaunts in the rain.

New friends and new places

brought new memories and new phrases.

What days can do that new cannot

change  my eyes my heart and my mind.

Memories posted in wooded frames

pinned up on walls with your name.

How I know what age has done to sight

we’ll play make believe of  another life.

Showers became houses, couches forts.

NY and rain boots and jobs and cars

the rules are different now somewhat.

Laugh at the games we’ve played

smile when I see you again.

And when I forget I’ll read this once more

that life’s importance does not require much.

Time or place or season cannot

replace the familiarity of familiar faces

and familiar laughs.

Sea’s gifts

“…the sea’s only gifts are harsh blows and, occasionally, the chance to feel strong. Now, I don’t know much about the sea, but I do know that that’s the way it is here. And I also know how important it is in life not necessarily to be strong but to feel strong, to measure yourself at least once, to find yourself at least once in the most ancient of human conditions, facing blind, deaf stone alone, with nothing to help you but your own hands and your own head…”

Diamond and a Tether

Happy Birthday

Happy Birthday Umma

times change but memories dont

You’re lovely, but you’re empty

“You’re lovely, but you’re empty,” he went on. “One couldn’t die for you. Of course an ordinary passerby would think my rose looked just like you. But my rose, all on her own, is more important than you altogether, since she’s the one I’ve watered. Since she’s the one I put under glass. Since she’s the one I sheltered behind a screen. Since she’s the one for whom I killed the caterpillars (except for two or three for butterflies). Since she’s the one I listened to when she complained, or when she boasted, or even sometimes when she said nothing at all. Since she’s my rose.”

days with my father

Live life as if you’re 90, lying in a hospital bed, reminiscing of how you were when you were young.

dayswithmyfather

Our Parent’s Generation

“My parents shared not only an improbable love, they shared an abiding faith in the possibilities of this nation. They would give me an African name, Barack, or blessed, believing that in a tolerant America your name is no barrier to success.” Barack Obama

Eight percent, ten percent, today thirty percent.

I can never fully understand why someone would leave their family and friends and everything they know with a single dream of becoming successful. My parents never got a piece of paper from a university. They’ve never had dreams of becoming a doctor, or a lawyer, or the next president of the United States. They never dreamed of having a 401K, or a yacht, or becoming a rock star. I’m sure of it. Working not for the advancement of your career, or for the enjoyment, but because your money pays the rent, and pays for food, and pays for your future children’s college education. Because I want them to have the dreams I’ve never had.

Today, the office is, shaken, nervous. Work has been put off. Every time I hear someone walk outside my cubicle I wonder if its my turn. My company laid off 30% of its employees today. People with children, with mortgages, bills and worries. I never understood how the economy worked and probably never will. I guess I was never close enough to it to feel the effects of it. When I was a child, I never thought that we were poor. My mom always gave me everything I’ve ever needed. She loved us more than anything, more than dad, more than herself. And I dream of becoming half the person that she was.

“We need to steer clear of this poverty of ambition, where people want to drive fancy cars and wear nice clothes and live in nice apartments but don’t want to work hard to accomplish these things. Everyone should try to realize their full potential.” Barack Obama