Storm clouds are rolling
all around, bringing humid heat to the hot days of July. Thunder where all you saw blue. Fear in the emotions in every snap. You can smell the heavy, frightened air. Searing flames of destruction tear apart the village of Lytton. Fires burning buildings, homes. People running to escape, young adults watching parents burn. No one knows for sure what may have caused the melt in one of those hot days in July. In an industrial town in Bangladesh a warehouse is used as a captive deathtrap. Fifty-two mothers, fathers, daughters and sons burned, trapped inside with no way out. No exits from the heated walls. The owner lit the match that burned the lives away in one of those hot days in July. Cars flying through the air as the floods form in Eastern China. Raging rapids covering roads, violence screaming from river waters. People and houses tossed aside. Twisters clearing an unforgivable path. Destruction that must feast during these hot days in July. The heat of July days is taking over, people are acting murderous, senses of the earth scrambled. Terror in unexpected places harvesting in the hot days of July. July 27, 2021 @Andrew Scott – Just a Maritime Boy 2021
1 Comment
Watching the heavy rains
outside my stained window, realize the sky is not the only one with sadness. My own heart is crying tonight, tears from discovering my elders from yesteryear, that always preached the right thing, have let all of us down. Have always been told how good we are as humans, taking care of one another, holding hands, protecting all. Tonight, my body shakes in grief. The words were all lies. Mind is full of confusion, learning how sinister and, at times, still are through the denial f wrongdoing. Saddens my soul, the elders preaching how they and we are good. All along they knew where the bodies of the young were buried while pleading innocence. Everything, everyone I have believed. I am now questioning this night what is the truth, what is a lie? All of it heavy on the heart that cannot stop crying tonight. July 10, 2021 @Andrew Scott – Just a Maritime Boy 2021 Finally going home.
It has been a long year, leaving a foreign land where I saw things that I never thought I would. Hoped I would not get scarred like the others. The ones that were there before my tour arrived. I heard their crying for home, moaning and fighting in the nightmares the night shared. That was a life I became afraid of under the sky of Afghanistan. I went over as support for the new foreign government providing arms for humanitarian relief and operations. Seemed like I would be away from the fighting and killing. The sights are now playing in my mind when I close my eyes. Saw remains of families taken away by the violence. Mother’s holding onto their husbands after death. Crying children when homes were bombed away. Destruction by us or the Taliban, I will never know. The memories are chaotic under fire. Carried friends back to camp not knowing if they would live or die. Enemy or friendly fire, who knew in the confusion. More than once I thought I took the shot. Breathing deep, almost home carrying invisible baggage. I have no one to talk to about the shakes or the substances I started using to forget Afghanistan. June 16, 2021 @Andrew Scott – Just a Maritime Boy 2021 Angry Sea
The waves of the sea are angry at us all for what our souls have become. Bombs are burning the sister sky. Families ding as they land while we watch the horror without blinking an eye or saving a soul. The sea watches us, becomes violent at every injustice we perform, crashing to land. Its waters taking what we do not appreciate. A plague is spreading to all corners of the earth. Searching for a cure while citizens are not protecting others. Spreading a death sentence. Waves crashing into the coast taking people away with each strike to even the score. The sea is full of rage. Tsunamis are taking communities away, washing homes to sea. Revenge waves. Seas are red from watching the damage that we are doing. Harming each other intentionally. Our greed has taken hold. Seas are rising, fists drawn and it is our fault. May 19, 2021 ©Andrew Scott – Just a Maritime Boy 2021 The drums are beating
with sadness, sorrow now. Crying with the stolen souls of the innocent, lost children. Buried so long ago, never returned home from the abuse provided from captive walls. Healing circles chanting for the children’s spirit. Mourning the loss, the children who were never given a chance. Beautiful children taken from their elders, tortured and abused to forget who they were until they were murdered, placed in a grave, forgotten by the government and the church who put them in the unmarked dirt. Died being forced to assimilate. Little spirits rise in piece to be remembered, given to the ancestors to share in the healing drumming around the fires, tears lined over their hearts, preying for the Lost Children. June 1, 2021 ©Andrew Scott – Just a Maritime Boy 2021 Thomas stares out his window,
sitting at the kitchen table, bills piled up beside his resumes. Five months without work aside from low paying odd jobs from working on yards to food delivery. Frustration lines his forehead. Determined to stay constant, some days are better than others however it is mentally wearing. Thomas sighs trying to believe that this unpredictable time shall pass. The evening comes with a glass of wine for Margaret, alone in her living room, attempting to adjust to a new life after twenty-seven years of the same one. Without a true explanation her partner left leaving so many questions behind. Where to start over? What does the future hold? Starting over bring fear. With each sip, thoughts get stronger holding onto the fact that this time shall pass. Stacy closes the door of her room trying to digest another horrid school day. Others hurling insults for no reason, students that used to be friends causing tears and confusing thoughts. Sometimes Stacy wonders if the abuse is worth going through, determined she will get past the next two years. Stacy knows a new chapter will be soon. This present time shall pass. March 17, 2021 ©Andrew Scott – Just A Maritime Boy 2021 So many marching,
looking for a place of acceptance as they do not know who they are or what direction they wish to go. All they need is a path set out before them to follow. They do not see who is guiding them. Those seeking spiritual enlightenment took their journey to a place called Georgetown to search for the teachings of Jim Jones who taught them apostolic socialism. As the people gathered in mass reports came to others about abuses by the temple members. Life was not what the followers expected, no enlightenment but punishments. Children taken away, rarely seeing parents. Monies taken to run the temple. Under scrutiny of stress and outsiders there were cyanide poisonings to all. On November 18, 1978, Jonestown was dead. Not one saw the guiding hand to the light. In Axtell, Texas, many gathered, waiting for an apocalypse with the second coming against the armed armies of Babylon. Firearms and soldiers lined the compound protecting the disciples inside the barrier following the leader of the Branch Davidians. Families waited inside while the law was outside until the fiery end for all being led. Flames taking lives in the chaotic compound. Everyone looking down, praying, not seeing who lit the match. Students gather in a classroom hoping to learn about multi-level marketing, course upon course with slow steps to get ahead within the organization. Enthralled by personal and professional seminars that were to grow the students. Being hypnotized to follow, no question. Ignoring the secret society the students were buying into until they were poor and sold. Branded by the leader with his initials. The pain never healed. No one saw who burned the brand. So many with empty thoughts searching for a place to go and follow the leader. Blind, without question only to feel impure. Once they realize the path that was taken to the current place. Too late in realizing the truth, questioning how they got there. Doors opened by the unseen, the Dark Figure that guided down the sacrificing path. April 7, 2021 ©Andrew Scott – Just A Maritime Boy 2021 Only you can feel your struggle
that your mind sees or thinks each day. The loneliness that comes with the unspoken words. Promise others are feeling the emotional pain also. Different triggers, same feelings. Never believe that your words and thoughts and feelings are the the utmost of importance. They are. Support is always out there when it feels like all is lost. Reach out. You will be held up. Outreached hands of support are always there. March 5, 2021 ©Andrew Scott – Just a Maritime Boy 2021 We are walking with shackles
on our exposed dreams of this world. There can be a time when we can be free. There will be a time when we come out our caves just to hold each other freely regardless of looking eyes. When we come to an understanding that with all our differences we are the same as human beings. All we have to do is listen and embrace. When a young man can play in a park with whoever they wish. When a little lady can keep her faith and innocence without adult corruption. When no one dies due to race or religion or living in fear of who we are, then the world will be would be free. January 4, 2021 ©Andrew Scott - Just A Maritime Boy 2021 |
Archives
July 2023
Categories |