Intelligence Vs. Faith

One of the great questions every person faces during their lifetime is whether to place their faith in God or scientific reason. The debate has gone on for centuries.  An issue that I find particularly captivating is, at what point do you reconsider your own religious views due to the testimony of another?

For example, I’m certain every atheist has heard a man of unshakable faith recount stories of spiritual blessings and unexplainable phenomena that suggest “help from above.”

Likewise, any person who lives for God must at some point face the fact that many of the most accomplished and brilliant people of this world have achieved great success without so much of giving God a head nod.

This is a major conflict my hero must face in “A New Kingdom.” The alien invaders conquer mankind in one night, and after enslaving humanity with tremendous ease, he is left to wonder what kind of God would allow his children to be defeated by a Godless race.

Would you be willing to change your views on faith if a more intelligent race of non-believers were to conquer the human (and historically God-fearing) race with ease?

– Thomas M. Watt

Try

Day by day by day by day,

I laze and wait then think and stay.

Time goes by until tomorrow, then comes some more with the same sorrow.

Tired of mundane depression, scared to try and face rejection…

Or regression to this same state, the ground don’t hurt it’s the fall I hate.

Up and up and up I climbed, ’till my hand slipped and then I fly’d.

Near the top, I climbed that high, but that misstep was my last try.

At first I kicked my arms and legs, reaching to grab what I once played.

And as I fell down from the sky, my eyes did struggle to not cry.

After I crashed I settled in, waiting to die, not re-begin.

I stand and think and think some more, dwell a lot on painful sores.

It hurts it hurts it hurts so bad! How can I climb when I can’t stand?

No more God, no more good doing. No more dreams, no more hope spewing. No more prayers for more good graces, no more thanksgiving, He can’t replace her. No more right track lest I go wrong again, no more rising means no descent.

I’ll just lie here until I die, thinking glumly and seeking highs. Drown my brain in lull and sleep, ease my soul with soul-less deeds.

Checkout that ass, give me that food, I’ll take a drink of scotch or booze. Some more tobacco, a cigarette, I’ll fuck that girl who I just met. Or no I’ll break her little heart, do what I can to make her depart.

Hate and hate and hate some more, destroy my body ’till it’s no more. Blind myself with thoughts of doom, end my hope till it’s no use. Joy is those who next come here, faith are those who stand real near.

How comforting it is to know, way up high, I’ll never go. Never climb that high again, never make another friend. Never fall in love with her, never mistake my own dead-end. Never one more situation, that risks the chance of escalation.

No more sadness, no more pain, just endless, constant, life-refrain. Hurt and hate and destroy some more, until with past I’ve evened the score.

But then today I looked around, and realized I’ve been here a while. And if I climb I’ll fall again, maybe ten times more than ten.

But maybe I should get up and try, before another day goes by.

Maybe pain is one example, of what you get from trying ample.

Where’s that ladder? I’ll climb that bitch, then rejoice in heaven, with those who finished.

– Thomas M. Watt

Hello to You

Hello to you with silent breath,

I hear your thoughts and struggled quest.

I’m sorry if you feel so bad. I’m sorry if you don’t feel glad.

I’m sorry if you feel so empty. I’m sorry if your dreams are heavy.

I’m sorry that you hate hope too. I’m sorry that depresses you.

I’m sorry if things didn’t work out. I’m sorry if the time ran out.

I’m sorry if you waste the days, waiting for grey clouds to rain.

I’m sorry if you feel alone. Sorry if you hate your phone.

Sorry if you’ve been betrayed, felt a loss, called deranged.

But there’s not much that I can do, except to say I’ve felt that too.

And when we breath with heavy chests with thoughts of lonely and great unrest,

And when we suck and can’t do shit and all is wrong and life’s a bitch,

That’s when you need to stand and say, “There’s still a chance, so fuck the grey.”

Because from deep anguish your heart rises, from great loss new hope surmises.

From your hatred of yourself, from your knowledge of no help, 

Comes a force from deep within, it helps you out, it’s why you’ll win.

For what more can they say to you, when you’ve lost all yet pulled on through?

You will win and shout and say, “I felt the loss, I did decay, I was depressed, I did delay. But then one day I stood and saw, a heart’s as heavy as its boss. Sorry folks but I refuse to curl all up and amuse you. No more laughing, no more scoffs, I’ve come to tell you no man’s lost.”

For on that day when they beat you, push you down, leave you bruised. You can rise if just you know it, turn around and make them notice. As much pain is in your chest as bad as hurt feels from this test, as much as God sounds like nonsense and as low as you feel from the rest, if you just rise and please believe – You only lose if you don’t breathe. 

– Thomas M. Watt

The Worst Kind of Marriage – Part 4

Part 1 –

• https://thomasmwatt.wordpress.com/2013/11/02/the-worst-kind-of-marriage-part-1/

Part 2 –

• https://thomasmwatt.wordpress.com/2013/11/03/the-worst-kind-of-marriage-part-2/

Part 3 –

• https://thomasmwatt.wordpress.com/2013/11/04/the-worst-kind-of-marriage-part-3/

Bethany was locked in the closet with Amanda, the young bible-clenching girl who had made the terrible mistake of knocking on Huerto’s door.

“We need to get out of here,” said Amanda. She was blonde and had a fresh black eye.

“I know.”

“Can we? I mean, how has he managed to keep you here?”

“Every window is boarded up. Every room is locked from the outside. He’s always within reaching distance of his rifle. And he never has any visitors over,” said Bethany. She’d been locked in the house with Huerto for four months.

Amanda swatted the hanger poking her. “What happened to you? I mean… why did he stab you?”

Bethany swallowed. “We got in a fight this morning.”

“About?”

Bethany felt her wound and winced. She stood at a hunch – upright hurt too badly. “I asked to go outside. Even if it meant having a gun in my side.”

“And?”

Bethany looked down and ran a hand straight through her dark hair. “And he got upset, picked up a knife, then stabbed me.” She sniffed. “A minute later he got out of bed to ‘make us some breakfast’.”

Amanda’s face went blank. “What kind of man is he?”

“He’s not a man,” said Bethany. “He’s a coward. A sicko with a gun.”

“I wish I never came here.”

A shout came from the other room. “Marriage ceremony! Later today, Huerto and the bitch with the bible!”

Bethany shot a glance at Amanda. “Marriage ceremony…”

“What?”

Bethany swallowed. “I know what he’s about to do. He’s going to wed you with the rifle barrel pressed to your temple.”

“So?”

“So,” Bethany said, licking her lips before going on. “So maybe that’s my time to do something. I remember where the knife is that stabbed me. If I can manage to get hold of it in secret, maybe I can kill him before he knows what hit him.”

“But won’t that put me in danger?”

“What?” said Bethany.

“If you lunge to stab him when his gun is at my head he’ll shoot me, and I’ll die.”

Bethany bit her fingernail.

“C’mon,” said the teenage girl. “You can’t take that risk-“

“In all the time I’ve been here, not once have I had the chance to hurt him. Today I’m either going to bleed to death or fight back. What would you do?”

Amanda looked terrified.

“What?”

“Please don’t get me killed.”

Before Bethany could respond, the lock clicked and Huerto swung the door open. “Wedding ceremony, upstairs!” He pointed his rifle at Amanda. “Get out.”

He waited for Amanda and Bethany to exit, then walked behind them. Bethany led the way, eyes glued ahead. Blood continued to drip down her nightie and the pain was getting worse. She could feel her legs shake as she stepped up the stairs.

Her eyes were dark, as was her hair, but her skin was pale. As they reached the top of the stairs her breath intensified. A strange feeling mixed with all the pain, fear and anger she’d had to live, day in, day out.

It was hope.

Part 5, Coming Soon!

 – Thomas M. Watt

 

Adam’s Plot

A point, a reason, a purpose due.

A thought, a quest, a long pursuit.

A fear, a doubt, a question posed.

A reason for the reader to go.

Entertainment is not enough,

Nor are words puffed up with fluff.

Need to feed the man some strengths,

Some endless longing for his wrong days.

For what does this one man stew?

What is it that he so must do?

Brain is trembling, being all fears, so much time – plot’s still unclear.

Cannot quite touch it yet, need the thought but it’s still wet.

A playboy, a pessimist, a selfish man too,

Fear of love, a heart untrue.

He needs the fame but no King’s glory,

He needs a plot or his story’s boring.

Currently his chapter’s are fun,

A lot of sex, a thoughtful run.

Does his best to escape his needs,

Falls in love with Gnashing’s great weed.

A woman who is beautiful, charming yet, precisely dull.

She’s got a character much like his own  – Sweet with words, a heart that’s cold.

His story ends with much betrayal, for the girl who did enable –

Him to meet the antagonist, she brought him to the bad man’s twist.

So what now, what’s all I’ve told?

From what you’ve heard, what quest is known?

I need a plot, a question to pull. I  need a purpose, or Adam’s story just lulls.

– Thomas M. Watt

The Road is Bumpy So Bring A Lot of Persistence

“I’m a loser,” began the loser, “but I’m going to keep on trying anyways,” finished the winner. 

Now See the Crown

On the ground looking down endless sounds of silence abound,

Feel afraid worry’s craze mess of thoughts like dreams un-made.

Breath is weak,

heart is heavy,

craving big,

loss is steady.

Turning left, turning right, neither way presents much sight,

Look above, see that dove? the soft warm white of looking dumb?

Think again my childish friend, see it harder the way is smarter.

Reach out, pick yourself up, jump again and feel that flood –

Of hope not drowned, of ways soon found, a road to go where you’ll be crowned.

Walk that path, strut that shit, bounce that chin and act legit.

Behave, your ready, no more kidding, this road’s the one where you beat many.

– Thomas M. Watt

Tragic Heart of the True Believer

True believer how I fear,

The current trend of worldly tears.

True believer know I know,

The pain of heart few others know.

True believer know I see too,

The sights you see and things you do.

True believer be not afraid, the God of yours is not decayed.

He is there, speaking with you, He is the one whom I know too.

He is the one who answers prayers, fixes problems and always cares.

Don’t be saddened by worldly loss, the pain that comes with natural thoughts.

When your eyes open they might state, this path of yours is too much too take.

I know it’s hard and it’s not fair, when no one sees the cross you bear.

Other laugh and feel joy too, and yet you hurt to do God’s will.

Am I an idiot, is God true, am I simply out of tune?

Am I crazy, am I misled, is faith the way of just pretend?

Do not worry, do not cry. Trust the Lord, He will provide.

– Thomas M. Watt

(Photo courtesy of freelance astronomer Dan Watt. See more of his amazing photos at http://www.pocketrubbish.com)

Loser loser loser you

Loser loser loser you,

If this is what they say to you,

That you can’t do it you are through,

There is nothing more that you can do.

Listen with your ear turned in,

Accept those words and share a grin,

Turn to them and say this day,

That your problems are in dismay.

For you don’t turn and look around,

You don’t make others bear a frown.

You’re the one who raises hope,

From the ugly you can cope.

For you will wake up everyday,

Work through the pain and always say,

A problem is a thing to do,

The struggle is what’s meant for you.

For from these losses which we bear,

Come ways to win in future’s air.

What is today represents the past,

And even if you’ve come in last,

Five years from now so much will change,

Will go to show the path you take.

Don’t get frightened, don’t be scared,

Don’t deny that life’s not fair.

Just go on to move ahead,

Accept your place and see who cares.

For in the future you will win,

From here the future don’t look so grim.

It looks to me like there’s an end,

It seems to me the pain runs thin,

When you begin to think in ways,

To turn your problems into change.

Reach forth higher and reach forth proud,

Let your heart beat oh-so-loud,

You’re not an idiot, not a fluke,

You’re the one who thought to do,

The things of which will dig you out,

The acts of growth like you’re devout.

You got away and passed the pain,

‘Cause you set out to change your ways.

Not from fear or worry or doubt,

But from the belief that future’s cloud,

Won’t look so grey and rainy wet,

It won’t be hazy or make you upset,

But looks to me from this horizon,

There’s no more clouds where your blue sky ends.

– Thomas M. Watt

The Man Runs

The man walked. He walked and while he was walking the demons were following him. They latched onto both of his shoulders, one wrapped around his waist, and another clasped to both of his ankles. He wanted to run, but he couldn’t.

No.

He had been here before. This wasn’t the first time he felt this sluggish. This was not the first he had been tied down by the worst of thoughts – How awful he was, how terrible those around him were, and how unchanging the problems always were.

They seemed.

He didn’t no why, but he knew this was the truth. He knew it was the truth because he had been here before. He had heard what he could not do. He had been told many times before that he was weak, doomed to fail, and not cut out for anything good.

The man walked faster.

Why? What was it that he had seen before that he could not see currently? Was it his lack of a sports drink? Was it his ambivalence towards healthy eating habits? Was he simply not cut out for a run?

No. He could run. He could move his legs faster and then find out how far they carried him. He decided not to give up before he even started.

The man jogged.

At first his breath felt heavy. His weight felt heavy. One of the demons from his shoulders fell off. Then another one, from his waist.

Wait. He was not a loser. He was not as bad as they said. He was currently down, but he had been down before, and he had also been up in the time in between. And the people around him – why were they so bad? For petty faults? Everybody had petty faults. He had petty faults.

The man ran.

The demon from his ankles fell off. He was not bound to sports drinks. He was not defeated by physical things. He owned physical things. He owned physical things because his power did not come from physical things, it came from somewhere else, somewhere from above, and the power worked through his heart.

The final demon fell off. Yes. That was how it went. He could run. He could run and beat many people at running. He was not getting tired, no. The less he worried about how tired he would get, the less tired he got. In fact, he got more energy. He pumped his legs faster, and it felt good.

The man sprinted.

He smiled. The wind swept through his hair and he felt light. Like it was no longer himself who had to carry him. Like his body was moving by way of another source. And the source was not from anything he had eaten, or anything he had done to manufacture. The power came from above. And if the power came from above, to help him, then what could possibly stop him? If he was not bound to whether or not he consumed a sports drink, then what was he bound too? If his power came from a source greater than the confines of the world, than what left was there which could confine him?

The man bolted. He charged, jumped, smiled and laughed. The man was not a loser. The man was invincible, because the source springing up in him was invincible.

The man kept running.

– Thomas M. Watt