tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-87516883722691358782024-02-19T15:51:19.878+00:00The Warrior Monk writes...Antonio Libertadhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09900469783168329285noreply@blogger.comBlogger51125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8751688372269135878.post-89298268130480486782011-02-05T21:03:00.000+00:002011-02-05T21:03:08.489+00:00What else should love be for?<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEig-nWyDl0MDOZbYRVyp2XSlTetde5NDWEARPaffdcsRdT3RNRg0iId-ChUBfsf1fNbRNkieZySVhp4qZR-UACdlghBSly1Du5KL8KB8oLpgTk_nGoP7Zt_7C-uD0oVGL7DHymZx8ED2Vc/s1600/love4.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left:1em; margin-right:1em"><img border="0" height="260" width="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEig-nWyDl0MDOZbYRVyp2XSlTetde5NDWEARPaffdcsRdT3RNRg0iId-ChUBfsf1fNbRNkieZySVhp4qZR-UACdlghBSly1Du5KL8KB8oLpgTk_nGoP7Zt_7C-uD0oVGL7DHymZx8ED2Vc/s400/love4.jpg" /></a></div>Antonio Libertadhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09900469783168329285noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8751688372269135878.post-67146101459980290782011-01-30T12:31:00.000+00:002011-01-30T12:31:27.643+00:00Reciprocity<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEir215-2DLvkEElOsQC6Hjq3u1jC6Tdjm1yRp7KI29_GYZ4FXuS2iJq3A-U1hrPUZRurI0iMjIcKhTkCP3yu4IE2r-sj_7ildN0YEEiyBNlTPPgBCAtm-BXiGpjpSN-5bdvDbkxay83gqQ/s1600/love.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left:1em; margin-right:1em"><img border="0" height="318" width="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEir215-2DLvkEElOsQC6Hjq3u1jC6Tdjm1yRp7KI29_GYZ4FXuS2iJq3A-U1hrPUZRurI0iMjIcKhTkCP3yu4IE2r-sj_7ildN0YEEiyBNlTPPgBCAtm-BXiGpjpSN-5bdvDbkxay83gqQ/s400/love.jpg" /></a></div>Antonio Libertadhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09900469783168329285noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8751688372269135878.post-53189550316448830782011-01-13T17:34:00.000+00:002011-01-13T17:34:46.733+00:00Hasta Siempre Commandante-Buena Vista Social Club<iframe width="425" height="344" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/po09lcDxXIA?fs=1" frameborder="0"></iframe>Antonio Libertadhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09900469783168329285noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8751688372269135878.post-55944516732268713072011-01-12T23:59:00.000+00:002011-01-12T23:59:40.323+00:00Rain<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgaELCAXDJrSVkhZLUeI8yAd5fCAjYZzi2Kp7akgWLZ7ScoCNVC0I-ivfi9CfmSaWuo_kN7IiUext0jyrxSGF5tZWq3brPEIPG3lxC8vHWR0xHg4AOHkjQmVtriA51MLuNJMySV0BsSrBc/s1600/rain.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left:1em; margin-right:1em"><img border="0" height="238" width="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgaELCAXDJrSVkhZLUeI8yAd5fCAjYZzi2Kp7akgWLZ7ScoCNVC0I-ivfi9CfmSaWuo_kN7IiUext0jyrxSGF5tZWq3brPEIPG3lxC8vHWR0xHg4AOHkjQmVtriA51MLuNJMySV0BsSrBc/s320/rain.jpg" /></a></div>Antonio Libertadhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09900469783168329285noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8751688372269135878.post-48837311882498187832011-01-11T15:07:00.006+00:002011-01-12T22:59:35.659+00:00Revenge is the forgiveness of angels<h1>Revenge is the forgiveness of angels</h1><br />
They say to err is human and to forgive is divine<br />
But the thoughts of revenge come again unbidden to my mind<br />
Long I have contained this sense of vengeance<br />
With my heart bound tight<br />
As humans dispense a justice<br />
That is bought and paid for by richer men<br />
Silently I count the moments of acceptance with rejection<br />
Deciding instead to sharpen my wits and hone my martial skill<br />
To be at my best when justice visits this land<br />
Because if God dealt in justice<br />
Surely He will strike evil with my righteous hand<br />
But could I relieve one of life <br />
Render a gift of God unmade<br />
Could I break the first rule of being<br />
That thou shalt not kill<br />
Perhaps<br />
Perhaps not<br />
Because I am always reminded that vengeance is His <br />
So I wait and pray<br />
That upon this person’s death <br />
I will be present to have my say<br />
That it will be by my will<br />
This person does not see the light of another brand new day<br />
But of course <br />
In the end<br />
This is not His way<br />
He would spare me this burden<br />
So He sends an angel<br />
Is it coincidence that a murderer should meet their fate<br />
In the very same way as the life they stole away<br />
Do unto others as you would have done to you<br />
A murderer is never murdered <br />
They are called to account<br />
To stand before the only one who can truly forgive<br />
But their sins need first to be purged<br />
So He sends an angel<br />
So that I might live and love again<br />
A testimony to a memory<br />
Leaving the Divine to the act of His forgiveness<br />
Wouldn't it be a blessing if it was this easy<br />
But if it is not this way <br />
That revenge is not hatred poorly conceived<br />
I will continue to believe in angels <br />
And live my life with my soul now at easeAntonio Libertadhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09900469783168329285noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8751688372269135878.post-40604075451485738972011-01-09T21:44:00.012+00:002011-01-10T13:29:38.413+00:00How do you say goodbye?<h1>How do you say goodbye?</h1><br />
There are many ways to say goodbye, but the most difficult goodbyes are the ones that underline a cross road of opportunity. They are the moment when hope, wrapped up in the future of two people, is no longer a gift that holds value or meaning.<br />
<br />
For some, this cross in the road of opportunity is only reached after many years of hurt and anguish, for others, after only a moment of disappointment. But whenever it is reached much bravery is required in order to face that moment with grace. Strength will also inevitably be needed, so to prevent us from bearing ill will, because bitter goodbyes linger long in the memory and stain the soul.<br />
<br />
In addition to bravery and strength we need to be wary, because bearing a darkened heart makes us cast at the fates with a forked tongue. In the end, any vehement remonstrations or utterances will serve only to invite the wrath of karma, the accounting friend of fate who stands ready to measure man’s worth. This is important because no matter the sense of sadness felt, spite lies always in waiting to diminish the value of our souls.<br />
<br />
To say goodbye after fate or time lends a hand, therefore, means there can be no looking back. Simply utter the words and continue your journey along another path. Reflection holds no merit from the other side of goodbye, as this is where sadness dwells. Sadness endures only in holding on to hurt long after the opportunity to let go has passed. We should never say goodbye in the hope of meeting later. We should say goodbye and let go, trusting if anything to fate. What will be, should always be allowed to be!<br />
<br />
Letting go is an art form designed for the soul. It is also a discipline that many minds find hard to grasp, mainly because we think we own the moments that pass at the tick of a clock. The reality is we share them. Sometimes we walk moments with many and in our most passionate displays with only one other and we would long for them to last forever. But only fate, faith or forbearance can decree how long they should last. <br />
<br />
Notwithstanding this, we are not deterred from hanging on to some of those moments we share, as they carry us and inspire us to better living. This is the cross road of opportunity that also resides in every goodbye. In life goodbye allows us another chance to get right what we got wrong. Goodbye is never a rejection, it is simply an aspiration to a brighter day.<br />
<br />
The saddest goodbyes however, are the ones that offer very little in the way of opportunity at the parting. They are the moments, when quite palpably, it is revealed to us that human love will not conquer all. They are the moments when goodbye means for forever, or until such time as we are granted the wish to walk with a loved one again. Pain is born of such goodbyes and carried until that wish is granted. Therefore, it is better not to say goodbye in those circumstances. For my part I elect to say “I will still continue to walk with you, but I will just walk on the other side of the road...” Then try my damnedest to walk every step thereafter, as though I mean it!Antonio Libertadhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09900469783168329285noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8751688372269135878.post-38774640568351716562011-01-08T00:48:00.005+00:002011-01-08T01:26:02.443+00:00The Warrior Monk Collaborations<img style="visibility:hidden;width:0px;height:0px;" border=0 width=0 height=0 src="http://c.gigcount.com/wildfire/IMP/CXNID=2000002.0NXC/bHQ9MTI5NDQ*NzY4MTYxOSZwdD*xMjk*NDQ3NzE3MjA2JnA9MjcwODEmZD1wcm9fcGxheWVyX2ZpcnN*X2dlbiZuPWJsb2dnZXIm/Zz*xJm89N2E*YjU4ZGViZjEzNDcyZDg*ZTU1MzUxNzQwNjFjYTUmb2Y9MA==.gif" /><embed type="application/x-shockwave-flash" src="http://cache.reverbnation.com/widgets/swf/40/pro_widget.swf" height="200" width="262" align="top" bgcolor="#ffffff" loop="false" wmode="opaque" quality="best" allowScriptAccess="always" allowNetworking="all" allowFullScreen="true" seamlesstabbing="false" flashvars="id=artist_982235&posted_by=&skin_id=PWAS1005&background_color=EEEEEE&border_color=000000&auto_play=false&shuffle=false&song_ids=6678538" > </embed><br />
<img style="visibility:hidden;width:0px;height:0px;" border=0 width=0 height=0 src="http://www.reverbnation.com/widgets/trk/40/artist_982235//t.gif" /><br />
<b><br />
Cybernetic Ty Belec Reads...Jealousy with the gift of a white feather</b>Antonio Libertadhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09900469783168329285noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8751688372269135878.post-52658316118042778482011-01-08T00:46:00.003+00:002011-01-08T00:54:11.036+00:00The Warrior Monk Collaborations<img style="visibility:hidden;width:0px;height:0px;" border=0 width=0 height=0 src="http://c.gigcount.com/wildfire/IMP/CXNID=2000002.0NXC/bHQ9MTI5NDQ*NzU4NDU3MSZwdD*xMjk*NDQ3NjI3MDQ3JnA9MjcwODEmZD1wcm9fcGxheWVyX2ZpcnN*X2dlbiZuPWJsb2dnZXIm/Zz*xJm89N2E*YjU4ZGViZjEzNDcyZDg*ZTU1MzUxNzQwNjFjYTUmb2Y9MA==.gif" /><embed type="application/x-shockwave-flash" src="http://cache.reverbnation.com/widgets/swf/40/pro_widget.swf" height="200" width="262" align="top" bgcolor="#ffffff" loop="false" wmode="opaque" quality="best" allowScriptAccess="always" allowNetworking="all" allowFullScreen="true" seamlesstabbing="false" flashvars="id=artist_982235&posted_by=&skin_id=PWAS1005&background_color=EEEEEE&border_color=000000&auto_play=false&shuffle=false&song_ids=6678620" > </embed><br />
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<b><br />
Cybernetic Ty Belec Reads... God is still great</b>Antonio Libertadhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09900469783168329285noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8751688372269135878.post-57287046246595753182011-01-03T23:48:00.001+00:002011-01-04T14:30:49.925+00:00Je suis le bouffon du mal<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjCFLRl_5UkMuURttfVraMQMb3QXDoLbfoerAGqKaFMxyw3yql_2oOWOwmO9S8LqrgFcA1wB2e4fhtBDUfr-SXWDYLh4eTUcy_XmQg632pThqz8T0ur-_XMz-13z5EVR8fCPAohyphenhyphenxFvLKU/s1600/jesterme.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left:1em; margin-right:1em"><img border="0" height="320" width="294" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjCFLRl_5UkMuURttfVraMQMb3QXDoLbfoerAGqKaFMxyw3yql_2oOWOwmO9S8LqrgFcA1wB2e4fhtBDUfr-SXWDYLh4eTUcy_XmQg632pThqz8T0ur-_XMz-13z5EVR8fCPAohyphenhyphenxFvLKU/s320/jesterme.jpg" /></a></div><br />
<br />
<h1>Je suis le bouffon du mal</h1><br />
To politicians who come in all shapes and sizes<br />
I serve notice to you no matter your cheap ass disguises<br />
I am the evil jester<br />
Speaker of all that is unsaid<br />
I reside in the heart of the clown<br />
That tries to get inside your head<br />
I see you point and stare<br />
With pretend debonair<br />
Whilst your laughter is reflected upon my back<br />
Insincere<br />
Insecure<br />
Small minded<br />
Pointing<br />
But I am the fool<br />
Tutored to withstand such mock adulation<br />
Whilst entertaining with mental funambules<br />
Your hands wringing<br />
Clap clap clapping<br />
The truth of the matter<br />
I can remove my grotesque disguise<br />
Remove my gaze from your soulless eyes<br />
And turn my ears from your sickened jibes<br />
Because I deal in truths<br />
And the problem with your basic ass kissers<br />
Who would like to arise in my disguise<br />
They are victims of your pathetic cries<br />
Poor bovine minions with cow like eyes<br />
They continue to drink from an illusion of trust<br />
Offering hero worship <br />
That you prey upon with narcistic lust<br />
Too humble to speak<br />
But speak you must<br />
Because you feed off the weak<br />
An egotistical lust<br />
So it is left to my evil jester<br />
To speak for the just<br />
He kisses nobody's ass<br />
And is immune to your touch<br />
Because if his cry frees one mind from under your wings<br />
My evil Jester will be right to have spoken unspeakable things<br />
<br />
To Lauren Delp, Thank you for giving me the inspiration to don the mask xx<br />
<br />
<br />
Definition: Politician<br />
One who seeks personal or partisan gain, often by scheming and maneuvering.<br />
<br />
Definition: funambules<br />
French reference to an athlete who performs acts requiring skill and agility and coordination. Historically used in reference to a clown.Antonio Libertadhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09900469783168329285noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8751688372269135878.post-30343086400337567182011-01-02T12:00:00.001+00:002011-01-02T12:01:36.240+00:00Fate Heralds a Queen<h1>Fate Heralds a Queen Born of <br />
<br />
Inspiration from a Monastic Dream</h1><br />
<br />
We never recognise the hand that guides us<br />
<br />
Until we look back upon life’s seemingly errant course<br />
<br />
For us <br />
<br />
Life is a crisscross of events <br />
<br />
That determined we should find one another<br />
<br />
As a constellation that heralds great things in the midnight sky<br />
<br />
Our meeting was long foretold<br />
<br />
A portent of visions waiting to unfold<br />
<br />
Now in this very moment<br />
<br />
We are strangers lost in a void<br />
<br />
Bearing a love that is not contingent upon latent desires of the flesh<br />
<br />
Bound together in a passionate dance<br />
<br />
To a song that resonates in tune with the sound of creation<br />
<br />
We are both yin and yang<br />
<br />
Alpha and omega <br />
<br />
Taking excitation from the universe that guides us<br />
<br />
Awaiting every experience<br />
<br />
To reveal once again what is locked inside our souls<br />
<br />
As two perspectives return to the source<br />
<br />
Our arrival will see great energies flow<br />
<br />
So that the beauty in the world will never quite shine the same again<br />
<br />
<br />
<b>A reply to the poem; Monastic Dreams, by Ariel Moonfire. <br />
Thank you for stirring my soul today Teflon, you remain my beautiful friend x</b>Antonio Libertadhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09900469783168329285noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8751688372269135878.post-17360433584289256172011-01-02T04:39:00.004+00:002011-01-03T21:01:37.155+00:00Pick a Card, Any Card...<h1>Pick a Card, Any Card... Your card <br />
<br />
will be the Queen of Hearts</h1><br />
I am forever amazed at how swiftly I can be accused of political naivety when I show disdain for our so-called system of democracy. The main defense of the charge which many are quick to remind me of is that our forbears died to protect and uphold my way of life. Furthermore, without this way of life my public voice would be stifled. <br />
<br />
The irony of this accusation is completely lost on my accusers who are howling at me with such visceral displeasure. Think for just a moment. Had the other side, in any of the mentioned conflicts, returned home victorious, would the same view I hold be an affront to <i>their</i> forbears. I mean, had Hitler won the second world war, any claim that genocide was wrong should be an affront to the men and women who sacrificed <i>their</i> lives for the Fuhrer’s perceived way of life, should it not? Therefore, to be logically consistent, we derive from the argument of my detractors that only the deaths suffered by a conquering army should determine the veracity of the beliefs behind conflict?<br />
<br />
I won’t be concerning myself with the huge question of justification for war here. Instead I will focus my curiosity on whether or not those who would ask others to die so cheaply have ever thought about whom, apart from their families, they are asking me to die for.<br />
<br />
Following the end of the English Civil War in 1649, the notion of absolute power and the divine right of kings was replaced by a parliamentarian system of governance. The power of the people had spoken, or had it? <br />
<br />
For those who argue across the red and blue political divide of labour and conservative loyalties in the United Kingdom, I wonder how it is, that it has never concerned that the leading political icons in recent years are members of the same family, that is Tony Blair and Margaret Thatcher. In point of fact if you further study the members of The House of Lords, or “House of Lords Spiritual and Lords Temporal” to be correct, together with the Parliament, whose members we allegedly vote for, how there is likewise no concern about the network of family ties that exist there too. For me this suggests that the voice of the people still remains in the mouths of a select few.<br />
<br />
The life blood of Britain’s many young servicemen and women has been spilled on many foreign shores for reasons that remain unclear today. Contrast this in recent times with the double standards and two faced decisions given in terms of justification for war, made famous by the illusory search for Iraqi weapons of mass destruction. When you consider other conflicts in history it would seem that our children die when a select band of families fall out about their family jewels. Thus, the myth of dying for Queen and country is gradually being laid bare for the illusion it is, as increasingly more information comes into the public domain.<br />
<br />
When you research the family trees of politicians that you think you have a “choice” of electing, you might conclude that blood might not be thicker than water. However, when these representatives shake up the system of governance and claim it an act for the people and by the people, you might want to check the credentials of the “kind” of people such acts are designed to benefit. Then you can decide which wars you might want to die in.<br />
<br />
In the meantime let me share two thoughts with you; <br />
<br />
The verb Parler is the French translation of the English verb “to speak”. Mentir is the French translation of the English verb “to lie”. These words come together in English to form the word “parliament”, thus “Houses of Parliament” translates literally, as “houses where lies are spoken”. The second thought is more a question. When the Royalists were defeated and the power of the monarchy transferred to parliament, where did all of the monarchy and lords go?<br />
<br />
Parliament is one of the greatest cons in England, which is why the Lords go there, to maintain the lie that the people have a voice, whilst our children continue to die for lies. <br />
<br />
In the end, though the pack was shuffled, it still contained a jack, or a queen, or even a king. The only way to ensure a fair hand is dealt is to mark the cards, or show everyone's hands at the start of the game. But so long as the house is allowed to play with a loaded deck it is not gambling. So, in that case I will continue to find my games of chance elsewhere...Antonio Libertadhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09900469783168329285noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8751688372269135878.post-55344856844938438452011-01-01T15:40:00.002+00:002011-01-01T22:34:25.367+00:00Battlecry from the blogIn whom do you trust?<br />
<br />
A political comment to the citizens of the nation<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-oSfaqgMj0qjytWKuNyMDnlzOCHkFlbqEKCCbf033OoUzlsobx4eYUeNB5ct8MQRWNnpIcFnPoF4nI4gm7AmJcPf9IhfA_g0ZMZKz-aj_SzJIKfFHR575eYKCBuxx3p70uOeHG__aGts/s1600/future.jpg" imageanchor="1" style=""><img border="0" height="226" width="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-oSfaqgMj0qjytWKuNyMDnlzOCHkFlbqEKCCbf033OoUzlsobx4eYUeNB5ct8MQRWNnpIcFnPoF4nI4gm7AmJcPf9IhfA_g0ZMZKz-aj_SzJIKfFHR575eYKCBuxx3p70uOeHG__aGts/s320/future.jpg" /></a></div>Antonio Libertadhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09900469783168329285noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8751688372269135878.post-7258622677034946052010-12-31T20:18:00.002+00:002011-01-01T22:42:18.957+00:00A Midwinter's Dream<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjly3tsqT8DrUSartZM4vvds6fPhUYUSacKlQ0TLPMaMV_bgpGeT83SDsCowhe1gQNc9QPT59cqi5QBam19dJwzHofWBkEs7BwXtW9TMDAY9EWwvQy7eWU9nLf3Kn5CXsN4qbH2SIOeX38/s1600/A+midwinters+dream.jpg" imageanchor="1" style=""><img border="0" height="226" width="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjly3tsqT8DrUSartZM4vvds6fPhUYUSacKlQ0TLPMaMV_bgpGeT83SDsCowhe1gQNc9QPT59cqi5QBam19dJwzHofWBkEs7BwXtW9TMDAY9EWwvQy7eWU9nLf3Kn5CXsN4qbH2SIOeX38/s320/A+midwinters+dream.jpg" /></a></div><br />
A muse inspires the heart of The Warrior Monk. Hopefully a muse not simply passing through...Antonio Libertadhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09900469783168329285noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8751688372269135878.post-42991943878402414702010-12-30T15:18:00.003+00:002011-01-01T22:35:50.807+00:00Battlecry from the BlogA political comment on the leaders of the nation<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8u2lo890dPOad6fVWOnGE1dhF70toNVr7TlbYRnhIp67pASmt6zrpLmoP_E9ClQqLuxonvoRU8kDeVQBpCH8q-Y56rXftq6a_FDJRY9Hk26PrD9e6gs9AkKqgj4OAkBqpPN1HIzc6GdU/s1600/truth.jpg" imageanchor="1" style=""><img border="0" height="226" width="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8u2lo890dPOad6fVWOnGE1dhF70toNVr7TlbYRnhIp67pASmt6zrpLmoP_E9ClQqLuxonvoRU8kDeVQBpCH8q-Y56rXftq6a_FDJRY9Hk26PrD9e6gs9AkKqgj4OAkBqpPN1HIzc6GdU/s320/truth.jpg" /></a></div>Antonio Libertadhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09900469783168329285noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8751688372269135878.post-58785291332862047962010-12-30T10:39:00.003+00:002010-12-30T10:55:45.456+00:00Wednesday 29 December 2010<h1>The Morning After A Goddess Rode<br />
<br />
Beside Me I left A Devil In My Wake</h1><br />
<br />
It is almost time to celebrate the arrival of another NEW year.<br />
<br />
After a year of properly grieving, following half a life without having done so, I have finally learned how to correctly hold on to lost love. This means that for the first time I can stand here atop this precipice of hope without fear, looking across at the reality of my past life.<br />
<br />
The reality is a trail of broken hearts, as I managed to extricate myself from the affections of hearts I was incapable of holding, in favour of a lost love whose competition was often too selfish or too self absorbed to be held worthy enough to be told the truth. To others, I should have been braver and stronger and understood the pain of the joy they brought me. In any case, I have slept many times since then because life never stopped to give me a moment of pause. As always my race from grief denied me the opportunity to know why I was running. Instead I was always focused on where I was running to, instead of where I was running from. At some time many sleeps into my grieving life I just became focused on running, where to and where from were just details to justify the fact that my feet were still moving.<br />
<br />
But between my hope and reality lies a field of dreams, some fulfilled, and some unfulfilled, but all of which serve to highlight the conflicting highs and lows of experience that existence with an absent heart can bestow upon a person. They lie before me and call with each of the twelve chimes that herald a fresh start with the arrival of each NEW Year.<br />
<br />
Despite the extremes of such a tumultuous life, I was awakened today to a tremendous life lesson. That it is possible to let go, without losing touch of the person that gives my life meaning. Also, that life does not go on, it simply continues. Thus, the love that burned so brightly in me and demanded to be shared is not lost, no, on the contrary, it remains. I now no longer have a reason to be resentful of life, even though it never stops or slows.<br />
<br />
To love, as I have done with such an all consuming passion is something quintessential to the soul that I am and to not give in to it diminishes me, almost as much as it diminishes the one who showed me the true value of my heart. This was my epiphany this morning.<br />
<br />
My epiphany came to me after a late night chat to a goddess. Athena came to me in the night to share in my news of the disappointment of one who would try to trick me out of my heart because I refused to let her have it willingly. After our chat the goddess retired to talk to a passing muse, who was visiting from the world of Erotica, whilst I nodded off to a peaceful slumber. <br />
<br />
Then the phone rang and I was awoken by news of a flood. Quite literally a flood was sent to wash away all that was occupying my mind. God does indeed move in mysterious ways, although this time no ark was required. Maybe because it was only one man’s sin being cleansed. In truth I would have expected a much bigger flood, but the almighty is no doubt aware at how harshly I already judge myself.<br />
<br />
I presented at my gym to find three inches of water behind the front door. As I waded to the stairs, all thoughts of my time with the goddess were cast aside as I sought to deal with the deluge raining down from the first floor. It transpired a pipe had burst on the first floor as our winter thaw began to get under way.<br />
<br />
A temporary fix of the pipe and a lot of mopping took my mind away. However, once the cleanup was complete I chanced a quick look at my facebook pages to find a friend had lost her mother. <br />
<br />
Just when you think life is running away with you there is always someone more in need of God’s care than yourself. I rang my friend and we spoke at great length. Privately, I thanked the almighty for cleansing my soul and asked him to let me take over the reins of my life again, because he had more important things to do. For the record the recent burden that had weighed down my soul had indeed been lifted, together with several others, so it was to my comfort that He left to care for others more deserving. <br />
<br />
So now I sit and type with my thoughts divided, taking my ease. I have no problems in my life for the moment and a few friends in need. My love goes out to you who are not yet truly aware of how blessed you really are, despite your current tribulations. You are in a good place and maybe even in need of a holiday. You are probably crossing your fingers in private for the future. But let me tell you that you are all in good hands, trust me, God is watching. I tell you that from firsthand experience.<br />
<br />
It is never intended in life for it to rain forever. Floods are designed to subside. There might be tears, or there might even be a few more broken pipes as their cause, but I am sure that when you have finished mopping up, that your souls will be lifted too...Antonio Libertadhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09900469783168329285noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8751688372269135878.post-49850417293244467992010-12-28T23:11:00.001+00:002010-12-28T23:15:46.441+00:00Anything but my principles<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJfhzflU6UFz51vLfwSkXtd6derHvX5kcZzY77ut5IR8hnNZIOX30NfBxxRI-9EEHC45nx2NDLP-_Y6xQAynnT2DoE7VXrq6bvYUdFKLqxQUyItpLyEyjW6UGskJBUZq_GqXoJJWZly64/s1600/sacrifice.jpg" imageanchor="1" style=""><img border="0" height="230" width="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJfhzflU6UFz51vLfwSkXtd6derHvX5kcZzY77ut5IR8hnNZIOX30NfBxxRI-9EEHC45nx2NDLP-_Y6xQAynnT2DoE7VXrq6bvYUdFKLqxQUyItpLyEyjW6UGskJBUZq_GqXoJJWZly64/s320/sacrifice.jpg" /></a></div>Antonio Libertadhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09900469783168329285noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8751688372269135878.post-34280370077574892362010-12-27T18:31:00.001+00:002010-12-27T18:31:22.819+00:00These Feelings Won't Go Away...<iframe width="425" height="344" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/9oIH3JcunlM?fs=1" frameborder="0"></iframe>Antonio Libertadhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09900469783168329285noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8751688372269135878.post-62440527258313020872010-12-27T13:16:00.011+00:002010-12-30T10:54:30.967+00:00Love's Acquaintance<h1>May love's acquaintance never be <br />
<br />
forgot with the call of auld lang syne</h1><br />
<br />
As I traverse this emotional wasteland<br />
Starved of love <br />
Avoiding those of stone cold heart<br />
Who would dare pretend to touch me <br />
I remain under the watchful gaze of gilded faces<br />
That should wish me to fall in the rockiest places<br />
They invite me to banish all thoughts of grief<br />
As though stabbing my own heart<br />
Could yield instant relief<br />
It would appear that flowers on the earth still wither and die<br />
But your rose continues to burn brightly<br />
Never dying in my mind<br />
Irreplaceable<br />
The best time of my life<br />
A time that was closed<br />
With the taking of your life<br />
So now a new year draws near<br />
To end the last year I survived<br />
To the sound of yet another “auld lang syne” <br />
Another new acquaintance needs be forgot<br />
And another empty heart lost to mind<br />
So that we are here once again <br />
Lost in one of those moments <br />
That conspires to bring me to you<br />
My only love<br />
The one who has always been true<br />
Thoughts of you no longer bring me grief<br />
Nor the desire inside for mortal release<br />
Instead they keep me warm <br />
As you ever guide my way<br />
Another year calls<br />
In that I have been blessed<br />
Once again I ask your guidance <br />
Before you are called back to your restAntonio Libertadhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09900469783168329285noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8751688372269135878.post-48404012738761555112010-12-27T04:00:00.006+00:002010-12-27T04:18:15.645+00:00What Does Your Love Consist In?<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
<br />
You talk of joy<br />
To know joy<br />
Each moment passes<br />
Like a waking slumber<br />
From which you will never want to escape<br />
A world of dreams never ending<br />
Nightmares never descending<br />
Found in the self contained mind<br />
It is experienced in an exhilarating state of being<br />
Where life exists beyond hope’s expectations<br />
So that joy becomes a transition to love<br />
You think to know joy<br />
What does your joy consist in?<br />
<br />
You talk of Pain<br />
To know pain<br />
Each moment passes<br />
Like a razor slicing into the flesh<br />
With each of time’s pendulum swings<br />
Wounds open to allow the acid of life to pour in<br />
And despite the hissing and burning of tortured skin<br />
The wounds will fester and never heal<br />
Numbed to other facets of life some can become addicted<br />
So that the soul becomes twisted and without form<br />
And living without pain becomes anathema to them<br />
You think to know pain<br />
What does your pain consist in?<br />
<br />
You talk of love<br />
To know love<br />
Each moment passes<br />
As though your heart beats without you<br />
For love is found in the sharing<br />
It is loving heart filled with strength and fortitude<br />
A heart that will protect you from life's nightmares<br />
Love is not alone <br />
Because to be alone touches the joy or pain of life<br />
Instead love subsumes both<br />
To imbue a rhapsody on life that inspires those it touches<br />
You pray to know love<br />
Who would your love exist in?<br />
<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg37XpGuILNtPRE9-LShuiZkOKVcvA3Zf7rf7QNsMEXlkr6jkJE5ZfKqxP46pLtU45XfTEAL1QBDJVHSSa769a585glmbeIfibyy62i5NleJUsJIwefL2eUYDNTPgIXaimRpE_fV759E7c/s1600/mystic+hands.png" imageanchor="1" style=""><img border="0" height="196" width="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg37XpGuILNtPRE9-LShuiZkOKVcvA3Zf7rf7QNsMEXlkr6jkJE5ZfKqxP46pLtU45XfTEAL1QBDJVHSSa769a585glmbeIfibyy62i5NleJUsJIwefL2eUYDNTPgIXaimRpE_fV759E7c/s200/mystic+hands.png" /></a></div>Antonio Libertadhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09900469783168329285noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8751688372269135878.post-69772563457674775162010-12-26T20:36:00.000+00:002010-12-26T20:36:14.394+00:00Always More Than What You SeeAre there any who can tell me<br />
What it's like to be a bat<br />
To fly in a sea of darkness<br />
With only echoes coming back<br />
To know how high I sail<br />
With never clearly seeing sea<br />
As the crashing of the waves<br />
Form in cave wall sounds to me<br />
Conscious of all that is<br />
And aware of all that has been<br />
My mind is open to the world<br />
But closed to every summer scene<br />
Does the world look any less<br />
With my view of what I see<br />
Of a world I hear changing<br />
With its surreal sounding scenes<br />
Whilst you hear with your eyes<br />
You cannot see what I mean<br />
Because if you cannot see as a bat<br />
You won't share my summer scenes<br />
You talk as though you know me<br />
Just because we are like kind<br />
But even this cannot tell you<br />
What goes on inside my mind<br />
So instead I bid you listen<br />
Let me tell you how I feel<br />
Of my desire to see the sea<br />
And of how much I really feel<br />
<br />
Inspired by Thomas Nagel's 1974 essay "what is it like to be a bat", a critique of the reductionist theory of the mind.Antonio Libertadhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09900469783168329285noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8751688372269135878.post-61575254213463242842010-12-26T20:19:00.000+00:002010-12-26T20:19:06.453+00:00The Devil Can Only Make Work For Idle MindsGod hates me<br />
But the devil made me do it<br />
So another man dies<br />
And people excuse it<br />
It isn't the government that steals a young man's hope<br />
Standing in the winter cold peddling young kids dope<br />
It isn't the government whipping people into line<br />
Proving the world owes a living<br />
"..Because someone else got mine"<br />
Ignorance learned is what ignorance does<br />
Instead of pointing fingers in excuse<br />
Or rewinding "because..."<br />
The ghetto is what you carry<br />
Like a state of mind<br />
Just like your jeans hangin' low<br />
So you can show off your behind<br />
There were no voices<br />
There was no gun to the head<br />
Just a statement of fashion<br />
That shows your brain is dead<br />
You could have turned left<br />
But instead you turned right<br />
Now you are cussin' and hatin'<br />
And fixed for a fight<br />
You don't know where you're going<br />
Or whether your fight is right<br />
You're just flexin' your ego<br />
Making fear your delight<br />
I walk with G and have nothing to fear<br />
Because my heart is good<br />
And my conscience is clear<br />
So I know there's nothing wrong<br />
When I see me in the mirror<br />
I walk with Him<br />
To help my fellow man<br />
Knowing he helps me choose<br />
When"I" CHOOSE to use MY hands<br />
<br />
Inspired by "Poverty Line", by Cory Revolutionary Poet SolAntonio Libertadhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09900469783168329285noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8751688372269135878.post-47173230724736064652010-12-26T20:12:00.002+00:002010-12-30T10:58:03.171+00:00Try Another Tune<h1>If Your Partner Won’t Dance, Why <br />
<br />
Not Try Another Tune<br />
</h1><br />
<br />
While you are licking his balls and sucking real deep<br />
Grinding up and down on his big pussy meat<br />
Thinking up new games for a sexual treat<br />
In search of new places for orgasms to meet<br />
You distract him by the wax of erotic surreal<br />
By “dicktating” how good hot wet pussy feels<br />
As you spin his head around like a racing car wheel<br />
Eyes open<br />
Eyes closed<br />
Domineering from submission<br />
Now you strike your pose<br />
Before riding his horn in ripped pantyhose<br />
It will be many long hours<br />
Before you think about sending him home<br />
<br />
Envied by a wife<br />
Who guards her once happy home<br />
Where happiness is sadness<br />
And hate guides her soul<br />
Because she knows why her husband<br />
Decides not to come home<br />
Crying on the sofa feeling sad and alone<br />
Eyes open<br />
Eyes closed<br />
Another dinner’s in the oven<br />
Mindless TV shows<br />
Excitement in fishnets<br />
Versus frumpy body clothes<br />
The magic is dying and everybody knows<br />
<br />
Accept me as I am she is constant to say<br />
Selfishly seeing things in her feminine way<br />
This self righteous stranger<br />
Who stole his wife away<br />
His femme de passion from a blissful wedding day<br />
Libido left home<br />
So he deceived to play away<br />
Eyes open<br />
Eyes closed<br />
Life changes for a person<br />
And alters their goals<br />
Chatting shit about acceptance<br />
Proves an intolerant soul<br />
Where’s the wife who loved to fuck<br />
Until passion made them moanAntonio Libertadhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09900469783168329285noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8751688372269135878.post-28916731178736774052010-12-26T20:02:00.001+00:002010-12-30T11:00:51.727+00:00In the absence of hope a lover’s heart must die...<h1>A caged bird sings in the face of a <br />
<br />
lie, because in the absence of hope a<br />
<br />
lover’s heart must die...</h1><br />
<br />
I can forgive you almost anything<br />
So long as you never stop playing our song<br />
It is a song that beats reverently in my heart<br />
And carries the melody of my love for you<br />
It is a timeless tune<br />
That I could dance to until the end of my days<br />
However<br />
If you entrap me<br />
And put me in a cage<br />
Like a caged bird I will still try to enchant you with my song<br />
I will fly to your hand<br />
At the sound of your every call<br />
I will dance upon your shoulder<br />
To dazzle and entertain your friends<br />
And when you are away<br />
Far from me in the great outdoors<br />
I will await your return<br />
Patiently<br />
In the hope that when you next appear<br />
You will bring a morsel of hope<br />
To feed my dream that you will love “Me” today<br />
Because I can forgive you almost anything<br />
Except that you might feed another heart’s sweetest dream<br />
To render our song a casual background themeAntonio Libertadhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09900469783168329285noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8751688372269135878.post-81710947042638805052010-12-26T05:28:00.002+00:002010-12-26T05:28:57.475+00:00The proposal<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjI3AW4_NMpZr7ipQq94doFgRDBGxloiVuJc9N1uuUkh2EUM9pPMcl0aYi0Mc58QNzrsxvhEipeU03skiNPVRSPQi0XrogScp6xI_n4jJTKu4oqlfEBuS1nQHjhHu9RW6zWgAuFMd3XLsw/s1600/the+proposal.jpg" imageanchor="1" style=""><img border="0" height="283" width="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjI3AW4_NMpZr7ipQq94doFgRDBGxloiVuJc9N1uuUkh2EUM9pPMcl0aYi0Mc58QNzrsxvhEipeU03skiNPVRSPQi0XrogScp6xI_n4jJTKu4oqlfEBuS1nQHjhHu9RW6zWgAuFMd3XLsw/s400/the+proposal.jpg" /></a></div>Antonio Libertadhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09900469783168329285noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8751688372269135878.post-37009283162146159202010-12-24T20:38:00.001+00:002010-12-24T20:38:42.513+00:00DMX - lord give me a sign<iframe width="425" height="344" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/IZjbY_igTWc?fs=1" frameborder="0"></iframe>Antonio Libertadhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09900469783168329285noreply@blogger.com0