There’s a truth in all of us. This is the one we’re not quite proud of, a persistent thing that won’t disappear even though we’ve hidden it in the farthest and coldest recesses of our minds. We ignore it and yet it creeps in front of us like a contender who adamantly refuses to surrender the fight even though they are beaten and bleeding, broken and smashed beyond recognition. But we recognize it because it is our truth.

At some point, you correlate stagnancy and stillness, which the world has inched around you, with this truth. There’s a point when we exhaust the battle and we give in to accepting this truth. Understanding this truth, embracing it, is probably one of the greatest thing we can do for ourselves because that moment of surrender seems to be the pass to moving forward, for the world to suddenly open up and rejoice in the individual we are meant to be… the truth that one must be.

truth is the indigenous love,
the first occupiers repressed,
forgotten, depressed because
it is primary; and primitive often
castes doubts and distorts the image
in the mirror before me, of who and
what i need to be, instead, my
mission thwarted by reclusivity;
i downplayed the meaning, even
thought impossibility, but the god
inside refuses and stands up for me.
in faith, this occurs naturally;
truth reincarnates out of necessity



Days take their tolls, whether it is the long commute or long days at work which sometimes feel as though we are being pushed further away from ourselves. It feels inescapable like a maze. Then, out of nowhere, I am given a moment when silence blesses me with one word to set me free from the cages of despair. Believe. Believe that there is hope. Believe that everything will work out. Believe in God and that direct line in Faith. Suddenly, this anxiety fades and I don’t feel as though I need to see the final outcome. I just need to believe.

the droll of days,
things we have given up,
the us we surrendered,
are we still whole
or are we holed up
like cheese that
melts under the heat

can we recover,
heal towards forever?
though i know nothing
lasts long, can
i not believe in the
hope for endurance,
what’s left of faith?
can i not see it through
in the long run? because

i believe i can,
i believe you will…
i believe we can

Never Give Up

I realize that I haven’t written for a while and I don’t know whether it’s the weather or this sudden bouts of coughs that I’ve been blessed with lately that deters me from seeing clearly the lessons that I’m supposed to be learning. And honestly today it came to me. We shouldn’t give up on ourselves. Despite what we may think or what sort of mindset we’ve managed to put ourselves in, we owe it to ourselves not to give up on us or our potential. Because God hasn’t given up on us nor have the people who love us… they haven’t given up on us, and this knowledge alone should be enough to stir us back up from the tundras we’ve trapped ourselves under and get back out there and do what it is we need to do in this world.

so long as love grows strong
and the light that fortifies
glows inside… there is still
a chance: never give up

the world is large enough, for
certain there will be a time,
opportunity to shine, i repeat
again: never give up

if one other soul hasn’t
surrendered, nor their flames
of hope drenched… neither
has God so never give up

Everyday is a Journey

What is a journey? Taking a trip somewhere and then coming back? Right? There’s always an association with leaving for an unfamiliar territory, possibly a faraway location and returning home with souvenirs, possibly emotionally charged or learned ones derived from the trip itself. A journey renews and transforms one somehow. Because of new perspectives, new heights sometimes reached, the mind is altered and we then look at the world in a different way. Perhaps, we come back a little more patient, a bit more forgiving. Despite leaving, I’m learning a journey doesn’t necessarily happen in a distant place. Sometimes, it just happens when we least expect it, like becoming suddenly ill and when we heal from it. Our spirit is thrown into a journey we may not have had time to take for ourselves. At that point, the stillness, quiet and rest from our temporary afflictions drive us towards a self- reflective journey where we are cornered to look nowhere else but deep inside ourselves, explore every nook and cranny so that we might expel not only the mucus and phlegm collecting in our core, but to cough out and fess up to all the habits that trap us and prevent us from living. Our temperature rises as we resist the truth, but only until we surrender and make that promise for change, in order to live the lives we are intended to live, do we break the fever and our bodies allay itself and align towards recovery. A journey towards change… what a blessing it is when we recognize it, especially when we are made to see that we are stronger than who we are, better than what we think we are. A journey transforms one and if this is the case, then everyday is a journey no doubt… it’s just a matter of whether we participate in what is being offered us.

pack my flesh, pack my soul…
into this light, plunge i and
swim towards You where i may
see my true colors beside this
gray i wear. my spirit yearns
for all the white it can behold,
the straightest line i can walk,
but i’ve been crooked and densely
worn in blue that even dances are
left untwirled, sugar unspun and
life unspectacular… free me from
this fever, this temperature rising
prison wall, push what phlegm still
plagues my vision and revive me from
this death haggling, and reset this
button in my head labeled truth

make peace with rain

Rain always makes me thankful. Existing in a period of drought, my heart races at the first drop of rain. How many trees will drink today, how much grass will flourish today? I cannot speak for heavily flooded areas for theirs is a different point of view from dried up lawns and cautious use of water (and for that, my heart goes out to them for i too have lived through the aftermath of a typhoon). But a lesson of gratitude fills me today, thankful that God has blessed us with this modicum amount of rain, if not to reacquaint us then to christen us, reel us back to hope in each drop of rain.

tune out the chaos and
let the silence come in
for no rain can permeate
thick walls saturated with
voices. the clamor of fear
and dissatisfaction crumpled
and stuffed inside our core
pushes our divinity out to
the margins, a puzzle as
to why insecurity settles in;
quietly, open the door and
make peace with the rain,
shake its persistent hand
and let it drench the palms
destined to touch and change
the course of man


If for one minute we believed ourselves to be powerless, we are wrong. Each one of us has been bequeathed with sufficient power to speak the truth, to stand for ourselves, to do the right thing, but for some apparent reason we hide behind a shield, thinking it safer to do so than to take action. Or perhaps, we’ve become lazy, becoming faithless in the process and forgetting that this power could easily be retrieved at our will. If we beckon it to come forward, it shall. It just depends on whether we believe. This is how powerful we truly are!

inherent wings, tucked underneath a puzzle,
refuse to soar over mountain peaks. a maze
i’ve wandered in and out of misdirection, i
became lost in my own labyrinth sealed in
frustration; a magnificent prison everlast…
i charge at the bars and bend them open, knock
its walls down, bring the ceilings from the
rafters and loose these chains wrapped ’round
my wrist: because for once i dwell in the
possibility… more powerful than i believe

wave of a hand

I cannot forget this simple gesture, the wave of a hand. It was at the gas station, I had filled my tank and about to drive off when a car pulled to my right side. We both stopped at our sudden motion and I waited til the blue-green passed. But the car didn’t move. Instead, the driver slightly rolls his window down and lets his sturdy hand slip out of the crack. He waves me pass and allows me to proceed with security and peace of mind.

Many times. I think about what it is I can contribute to this world. In what other ways can I help those around me? More than a smile, I think, sometimes it might just be as simple a gesture as a wave of a hand.

these gestures need no policy,
kindness is best left without
attachments from fame-starved
authors who write of giving
but know nothing of generosity,
oblivious to true poverty and
starvation; a suffering concealed
inside the folds of an anxious
belly whose hunger for one wave
of a hand spills over from the
shadow self moved by darkness

no fear

To have no fear. To be without fear. Why is it such a hard concept to grasp? What are the events in our lives that lead us to this place. What instilled fear in us? Is it to balance our character, pull us down a bit to make us humble? Or is it because of faithlessness, a deficit of light within? Whatever it is, we must extract this seed from within, forever expel it from our system so we may sow courage in its place.

how many times must i conclude,
end with a statement with both
fists in the air, willing myself
as i would like winds… unstoppable!
it’s all i ever wanted amidst this
dragon and dungeoned world, to escape
the fire and wander into the city
where loneliness finds me sat upon
a saddle galloping towards the sun
to harness what light I may extract
beyond the extension of its rays

-mr gahon 9/6/15

No conformity, no compromise…

No conformity, no compromise. Sometimes, these are challenging places to inhabit, especially when our integrity and moral values are put to the test. The very ideals we believe in and the basic freedom to expess and act according to our truths are suddenly marred by narrow minded individuals who use their power as though a toy they can wield carelessly. In doing so, the price of oil is raised and the salary of the common man is whittled down to meager size.

Those who dare crush the human spirit is no match for its resilience while those who play with people’s lives like chess pieces dare provoke the balancing powers of the universe. Karma comes to mind, but, unfortunately, not everyone is aligned or governed by the idea of what goes around, comes around.

in this battle waged,
even if you think you’ve
won, diminished my truths
and slayed each of my men….
my spirit triumphs for them,
over you who have thought
less and less about purity,
the necessity to lift the very
heart of man from disparity…
how dare you cover up mistakes
and let someone else take the
fall? can you still claim you
won, even if you’ve cheated us
out of our own (lives)?

© mr gahon 8/3/15

faith is key

Faith is key, whether you believe or not… you’ve got to start somewhere. The belief in oneself coupled with enough love and meditative silence in one’s head can potentially unlock our greatest self. The only catch is believing.

faith in you and me,
where i belong and long
to be is before your
feet kneeling, believing
as i do that none can harm
me from unnecessary talk,
the nuisance of words and
their vibrations slipping
away as though wet floors
abound and i’ve nothing
more to show for (prior to
my lack of faith) than a
bruised and broken back

© mr gahon 6/29/15