Reality

 

HIDING MY REALITY

While visions of sugar plums danced in the head, 

wondered would it matter if living or dead. 

Some fat, some skinny, some short, some tall; no matter the song – 

danced with them all.

Moments bitter, memories sweet; enchanted in illustrious delight to meet; 

sweeping willows from their head to their feet.

 

Feared yesterday to come and say goodbye, not nary a heart did nil draw nigh.

They came and they went, didn’t give it much thought. 

The problem or the solution. 

Of both, I was a part. I suppose, on the relationship, it just depends, 

but either way, they all came to an end.

You laugh and point the finger at the lonely old man. 

Sure, I’m Single Income, No Kids, what of it? A meme? 

This generation knows nothing of true heartbreak, it seems.

Today, everything’s merely nothing more than a click or a view. 

But what about the person. What about the real you?

Oh, that’s the part you try to hide, deep down inside. 

But just remember, from yourself and from God, you cannot hide.

-DeMaster Thomas, 4/29/23

Life: is it what you expect

 

                               

And A Meadow Lark Sang Ravindra Kumar Karnani The child whispered, "God, speak to me" And a meadow lark sang. The child did not hear. So the child yelled, "God, speak to me!" And the thunder rolled across the sky But the child did not listen. The child looked around and said, "God let me see you" and a star shone brightly But the child did not notice. And the child shouted, "God show me a miracle!" And a life was born but the child did not know. So the child cried out in despair, "Touch me God, and let me know you are here!" Whereupon God reached down And touched the child. But the child brushed the butterfly away And walked away unknowingly. Ravindra Kumar Karnani (Old Hindu poem)

Graphics by Moon And Back Photography
Artwork by © Greg Olsen

Life-a hole in a bucket

 

A short story by DeMaster Thomas, Jan 2023 

Life-a hole in a bucket

 

Human at eight years old: Why does my right foot hurt?

God: There’s a rock in your shoe.

 

Human at eighteen years old: Why does my left foot hurt?

God: There’s a rock in your shoe.

 

Human at 28 years old: Why do both my feet hurt?

God: There’s a rock in your shoe.

 

Human at 48 years old: What happens if I take the rocks out?

God: Your feet will stop hurting.

 

Human at 68 years old: Meh, I’ll just get new shoes.

God: 😞

 

Human at 98 years old: all my life, I lived with pain. What happened?

God: the rock in your right shoe was fear. The rock in your left shoe was regret.

 

Human after passing away: I never took the rocks out of my shoes, so I never healed?

God: come to all me; all that labor and I will give you rest.

HIStory: I AM

 A poem by DeMaster Thomas 12/30/19

HIStory: it's the same story told over and over again in countless accounts of literature, books, films, and every other symbolic media you can think of. It goes like this:

There once was a Creator called God

And His creation called satan and the devil

Satan fell and with the devil, sent to hell

And along the way wanted to take all the humans with him

The End

-I've said it also over and over; this whole existence, this version of events, is all about bragging rights and real estate. A battle of good/evil. A choice.

 

-Humans are in the middle of 2 forces; 2 choices. A Creator vs. a creation. Do you choose the creator? Or do you choose the AI? The creation? 

Creation is the independent separated cut off party that has no inheritance to anything! 

As for me, I choose the Creator. I would rather suffer here in this life and time and tolerate the fallen sinful world, than turn my back on the source of all that is everything; the one true source of hope peace love joy enlightenment and eternity; I choose The Most High, Elohim, Yeshua Messiah.

Philippians 2:9 (Every knee shall bow) 

_Its too bad and very sad that there's endless versions of the same story told over and over since the beginning of time and it will continue until the end. Because, there's truly only one true version of THE story, and that's the one told from the factual account perspective. The unaltered, unedited, uninterrupted outside onlook point of view that records all sides of the story at all angles and played it back in it's true pure unscripted unfiltered form. 

There's technically, when told from the perspective of factual truth, only one version. There's no HIStory or Their-story, there's only THE-story and the-way-it-is. That's the version I go with. Good bad and indifferent. It it-what-it-is. Same story told quintillion times and people still don't get it. Heartbreaking. Truly. 

 Exodus 3:14: I am that I am is a common English translation of the Hebrew phrase, ’ehyeh ’ašer ’ehyeh – also "I am who I am", "I am what I am" or "I will be what I will be" or even "I create what I create".

I am De'Master but He is: 

THE MASTER

demaster anthem you tube

The Curious Case

 

Ontlametse Phalatse (Progeria)

10/3/18 828am

The Curious Case (fictional poem)

by DeMaster Thomas

They say he was born with a rare disease

He lived to be two hundred and three

He grew to be large, larger than you and me

Only to die the size of a garden pea

"We Are or Not"

 "We Are or Not"

I think we're just remnants in HIS head

Some cells HE keeps - some end up dead

Which pill will you choose: blue or red

I am the 'I AM' is all HE said

a short poem by demaster thomas 7/21/18 242am

As children bring their broken toys
With tears for us to mend,
I brought my broken dreams to God
Because He was my friend.

But then instead of leaving Him
In peace to work alone,
I hung around and tried to help
With ways that were my own.

At last I snatched them back and cried,
“How could you be so slow”
“My child,” He said, “What could I do?
You never did let go.”

- written by Robert J. Burdette

Read more at Poem : Broken Dreams

Table for One, Please

Table For One

A short story by: DeMaster A. Thomas
#091201400P

Welcome back to Solitude. "Table for one?" The hostess says. "As usual," I reply wittingly. I order the same thing everyday; tossed salad and scrambled eggs. I get my regular spot by the window...sit and stare into the traffic. The busy city streets blends nicely with the skyline in the distance. My mind wanders with each gaze and bite, with random thoughts of life and how bad this actually tastes.

I came up with a number of reasons of why my life was the way it was at this moment. Did I choose this path or did the path choose me? Were my actions in life proactive or reactive? What if God has something else planned for me and I just haven't found it? In the end, we learn and grow from each experience. The eggs settle as a touch of gas passes through my mind...

Scattered thoughts tell me that it is a combination of all of the above-and more. After all, I have family and friends that have overcome some pretty serious obstacles in their lives. And I am simply amazed at their ability to move forward with such strength and perseverance. It is calming and brings a smile to acknowledge their accomplishments.

Come to think of it, I've learned a lot from the people around me and yet here I sit...alone...still searching for whatever it was I was looking for. I know that it was not to be alone. Again. Or was it?

  Hey, here I am! It reads, "never married, no children". Laughing to myself, I'm thinking, yeah and no career either to chip away at the lonely hours of the day. Bachelor-hood has engulfed me. "Check please? Thanks," I say with half a smile. The waitress is attractive and expresses pity for me behind her eyes. Can't help but laugh a little every time the check comes...wow, how cheap it is to live alone. Yep. Alone in a life that is simple yet unique. It was mine and no one could take that away from me. I have overcome my own share of trials and obstacles and lived to tell. Love, laughter and peace were daily ingredients in my recipe for life. And for that, I am thankful. 

 
Then, I realize-wait. I am still me. I am not defined by a job, social status, physical build or level of intelligence. I am a direct reflection of the soul within. Underneath a blanket of depression, there is a light of pure joy. And with that warm reminder I choose, at this moment, to throw that hurtful blanket away.

This is my bed of memories and I don't have to lay in self pity. I can make a fresh clean path, starting today. I just have to choose to. I sign the check and grab my coat to leave, smiling the whole way through. I decide at this very moment, it's okay to dream. It's okay to believe in myself and be truly happy with my accomplishments.

It's okay to be a bit awkward and misunderstood. It's okay to be - me. After all, who else can I be? No one else is as good at being me than I am. On that note, I head out the door of the deli and promise myself from this day on, I will do things differently...starting with ordering the house special of the day.

Poetry Corner

Prayers transcend space and time. 

In our prayers, we open the mind and explore the soul.

We go where the spirit takes us. 

Phone Call To God

by: DeMaster Thomas

Hello God, I called tonight to talk a while.

I need a friend once again who’ll listen to my trials.

You see, I can’t seem to make it through one day on my own.

I need your love to guide me so I’ll never feel alone.

I want to ask you please to keep my family safe and sound. 

Come in and fill their lives for whatever fate they’re bound.

Give me faith dear God to face each hour throughout the day.

And not to worry over things I can’t change anyway.

I thank you God for always taking my calls.

I thank you for giving me advice and catching me when I fall.

Your number, God, is the only one that answers every time.
I never get a busy signal and never had to pay a dime.

So thanks God again for easing my sorrow.
Good night, I love you, too. And I'll talk to you tomorrow :-)