Writer, Author, Synesthete
Destiny’s lights
Do onward call
They’re after and
Before
They know what lies
Beyond the seen
And hold me down
No more
They call the way
To open up
And hapless screams
Do fill
Limelight stricken’d
Wakes the dead
And sees the world
In shrill
There is a path
That holds the light
It wakes and sleeps
To be
The holding of
The lasting hope
The joy that comes
To me.
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Books by Marty:
www.amazon.com/Marty-J.-Reep/e/B008LOYVQQ
What if this life is just a facade? What if the lives we’re living now are only current iterations of repeating cycles that generate one after another throughout time? Or, what if time is merely a frontispiece of other inner workings behind the scenes of what we claim to be reality?
If it is only a front or book cover, then does that make us players on a stage or contrivers of the mind? Where does the crossover occur between what we perceive to be reality and actual reality? Is it located within the confines of our minds, or is it outside of our cerebral walls, dwelling in the outer atmosphere of space and air?
Those thoughts and questions bring forth the following contemplations: What is reality? Is it the physical, tangible world we see around us, or is it the metaphysical world we do not see – the part of the space in the universe that holds together the other parts of our minds and lives?
If the conditions that dictate our cognizant reception of ideas are clouded, then we have allowed ourselves to be swayed into believing things that are not important. The passage of time will reveal true abilities and afford us the opportunities to succeed even when the belief surrounding us drops to low levels.
Because we can see into the far reaches of the universe, we are able to see beyond this present situation that condemns us and calls us into treason against our own souls. That foreboding voice will draw back from us and grant safe passage into the realms of belief and sustaining life.
The lasting impact is yet to be seen of the turf war that has torn apart our nation. In due time, those responsible for the rampaging of detrimental thoughts and derogatory existence will be held to the light for answers. When they stand before the judge and jury, they will shrink back from the clamoring of arms and give credence to the author of life. His forbearance of them will show grace to the world and will show a disbelieving world the way that truth has been leading.
In the depths of his soul does a man contemplate the things of God and the hardening of a heart. A willingness to hear the heartbeat-thoughts of the Almighty will reign benevolently in the growth of a family and the maturing of a faith. It is with great surprise that men and women alike seek to know the Father more and as a result gain a deeper understanding of their own souls in respect to their place in the universe.
A grand space within in the heart is a grand space within the design of the firmament. The whole of heaven has room to encapsulate and expand the conditions of your life in relation to the greater purpose of heavenly callings.
Seek not where you don’t belong in the world, but seek out the places that you do. The coldness of heart protruding from some will not disable you from sharing the glowing warmth that extends from your being. Light and life are there for you to have. They produce the musings that allow us to grow and send forth into the world a happiness that others need to hear.
Some of your greatest moments will occur when you try to see beyond the current perception of truth and reach for an understanding of the deeper expanses of the universe. In those moments, the vapor of facade will fade away and light will fill your mind.
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Books by Marty:
www.amazon.com/Marty-J.-Reep/e/B008LOYVQQ
Reaching beyond
Into unseen
Reveals a lasting hold
A grasp so tight to dead man’s touch
Will give the end foretold.
We give to life
The dream of night
And in the end we’ll see,
We step across the dead man’s land
And live a life for Thee.
Call to heaven
To see the sun
And give my all in all;
With the daylight a’passing by
It is to darkness fall.
Therein is pow’r
Therein to know
The boding that foretells
Will be the everlasting light
That opens all the jails.
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Books by Marty:
www.amazon.com/Marty-J.-Reep/e/B008LOYVQQ
The bare-knuckled hands of training belonged to a boxer of little consequence in the minds of most. Yet, in the minds of a few, he was Champ. Those believing minds were his son, his trainer, his wife, and his own.
The rest of the world had summarily dismissed him after he lost a couple of big fights in the previous year. He was in a downward spiral, and he knew it. He would have to break out of his own mind’s cage if he was going to win again. It would be work, but he knew he could do it.
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Read Marty’s fiction book,”Trevor and the Dark Rider – ebook 1.1″, here
To see the sun and then turn your eyes is a lasting burn of retina. Yet, it causes in us the desire to look again – to see into the purity of being that exudes from the burning orb. The remembered effects pass rapidly from our memories, yet in the moments of looking we swear that will never again attempt something so stupid.
The gracious moments of afterglow cause us harm in that we burn while waiting for the streaks to pass. The brightness would cause blindness if we continued to look and saw past the center of the glow, both in space and in our sight sockets. Flesh will melt away faster than the light will. But given time, the light will pass into oblivion, as well.
To see the day beyond
Is dwelling in foretell
To see, to know, believe
Gives heaven light, not hell
Tho many come to claim
Abiding in the see
They never will know true
They never will achieve
It’s more than jest of hand
It’s more than lie of heart
It’s all that dwells within
That sets the real apart
The say they know the truth
State future’s in their hand
But only those of faith
Can knowledge they command.
Words of the afternoon light filtered through the window, glided across the sill, and slipped into the room. They met me where I sat. They asked me why they came in from the outside and not from my heart. I told them that since I didn’t originate them, they came in from some other source. But because I could sense them, I was able to have a conversation with them and help them on their way.
During our chat we covered a lot of ground. In a way, I could identify with those wandering bits of thought that passed through the window and into my house. They brought with them a perspective from another dimension – the realm of the surrounding unseen. To float through the air without physical texture, yet to have it all the same. That’s what those words were showing me – beyond just showing up to ask directions.
A refocusing of sorts occurred on both our ends. They were no longer wandering. I was no longer wordless. The meeting was good. We both benefited from it. They gained direction, and I gained this page full of their relatives.
In gossamer gowns
We see straight away
Where death doth stalk
At close of the day
We see but a bit
In moments unkempt
And know hell has
For us much contempt
With morning shines forth
Brightness renewed
And speaks here not
Of demons subdued
With gossamer gowns
We speak but not in voice
Of our lives lived
That mirror your choice
Though heaven shines bright
It will not partake
Of lives below
That it they forsake
— — — — — — — —
Published online at
www.MartyReep.com
www.Scribd.com/mjreep
Two tormented souls
Clung to the past
And to each other
Trying to see the end
To their misery.
The darkness that surrounded
And the shelling
That would not let up
Seemed to deafen
All hope that tried to invade.
No intervention would come
And if they were to survive
They’d have to walk
Through the streets
In the midst
Of hell on earth.
They left their bunker of safety
And breached the night.
With sirens wailing
And bombs piercing the sky,
They went from alley to alley
Trying to escape.
Then they realized that
Only by walking down the main road
Would they get out
Of Dead Man’s Lane.
Looking into each other’s eyes,
They squeezed the other’s hand
And broke ranks from fear
That gripped at their hearts.
In an instant they were standing dead center
Of the Plaza Central.
It took a moment,
But the men shooting downward
Recognized the two.
Voices rang out,
“¡Alto!”
And bullets stopped.
The two souls looked at each other
And knew they had made it.
In an instant, they were gone.
Like the night that had stretched out before them,
They disappeared into the wind,
And heaven lifted them home,
Tormented no more.
# # #
Published online at
www.MartyReep.com
www.Scribd.com/mjreep
According to ancient myths, Pandora opened a jar (sometimes translated as “box”) and as a result, released the evils of humanity. Startled by what escaped, she quickly closed the lid, leaving Hope inside.
Side Note: Based on her other actions, she most likely opened the jar out of curiosity and not to be malicious.
Either way, what was done – was done. There was no turning back the hands of time and reversing the deed. Yet, Hope remained.
Yesterday, I was reminded of the same kind of thing. I can’t return to earlier years and re-do anything. Last time I checked, the present time continuum of the universe doesn’t grant “do-over” scenarios. So, to wish I could go back and do things differently based on what I know now – only burns up precious resources through regrets, stress, and anger.
Instead, I will cling to hope and utilize the experiences of my past to better accept my path and to walk it well.
By the way, if you’re looking for an exciting young adult fiction series to read (or for somebody you know), then check out Trevor and the Dark Rider. It’s intriguing, suspenseful, and connectable:
Marty Reep 