Expressionism: The Findings of a Man

Chapter I

During the cold winter month of January 2008, and until the spring of April of that same year, it seemed as though my feet had traveled seventy-times-seventy thousand steps during the plight of losing all that I held sacred. My body carried the weight of the agony that my heart was experiencing during those lonely and painful steps in life. Hunger had been a companion, and my desire for relief communed with me daily. With only the shirt on my back, I fought vigorously to overcome the spirit of insanity as I pressed on to find a better tomorrow (at least that was my hope). The nights during that period extended no reprieve to my tiredness, and each morning presented no promises of a pardon. The weary state of my mind and body led me to a tree in a remote place that seemed to be so free and at peace. While I sat at this place of refuge, my mind reflected in a repetitious cadence on the many thoughts that accompanied me during the days and nights wandering back and forth upon the concrete paths under my feet going to nowhere. To stay focused, and to keep my fears from robbing my mind, I comforted myself in the assurance that things were not going to remain the way they appeared, and that the condition I was experiencing was only temporary, and a brighter day was just around one of those corners that were ahead of me. 

After reflecting on my poignant state, I slumbered under this tree. The morning finally made its appearance. I opened my eyes, and whispered a salutation towards the heavens, and thanked God for another day of breath. There was a chill in the air, and the snow which surrounded me appeared as a crystal blanket covering a field of precious stones.

The clouds in the heavens seemed cradled in serenity as they traversed across the blue skies above my head. The cold crisp air presented the scent of fresh water which made my mouth very dry. I could hear the infant birds as they summon its mother to nourish its hunger, and the swiftness in her wings confirmed her concern of the infant birds needs. The beauty of this creation around me created peace and warmth within the depths of my being. However, sadness surfaced and engulfed my heart, because I knew that I must leave this serene place I feel so at peace in and journey into the Hell of reality in those streets that were ahead of me. Rising from the ground where I rested my weary body, I began the journey to wherever - to keep defeat from being the victor of my soul.

Through the alleys of the neighborhoods, and between houses I roamed. Most of those houses were condemned or needed to be condemned (with a few of those houses converted into drug infested malls of destruction and illusions). I stopped, and leaned on a fence and watched the addicted as they shuffled to and from these malls of destruction. All of them that were controlled by this demon of addiction had the appearance and similarities that revealed their bondage. All were disheveled, and their eyes were sunken into their heads revealing the death that had a grip on their souls. Their malnourished bodies and deficient spirit of hope unveiled their darkened essence upon their faces which brought fear into the hearts of the normal observers. I then began reflecting on my past days of bondage with the spirit of addiction, when at the age of sixteen heroin was injected into my veins. I began to recite the following words as I silently wept for myself and for those that I seen.


Addiction is my name, and destruction is my claim. From the depths of Hell I have risen to fame.

Like the venom of a snake I kill at first strike, and I have no remorse on a person precious life.

I can make a woman betray herself and her child, and ignore the consequences of her actions while performing distasteful deeds with a smile.

Make a young man steal, lie and cheat, and push a father not to care if his family eats.

My status of persons I do not discriminate. I can make persons of power and authority even hate!

 I make the new look old, and turn family’s hearts cold. My powers are beyond any ones control.

I am very deadly this you should know, just look around you can you not see my growth!

I have entered into cities and turned them upside down, and have taken quiet and peaceful neighborhoods and ran them into the ground.

I am the Demon of the last days, and there is no deliverance in the games that I play,

Should by chance we pass each other by, don't stop, nor listen to me, for you shall surely DIE!’

  (Excerpt) Copyright 2010

StarPoet   StarPoet wrote
on 8/27/2010 3:30:16 AM
Welcome back, Mr. Qadi. Good to see you again and am looking for more deep and intrinsic works from you. Like this masterpiece here.

on 5/21/2010 6:32:42 AM
I love this writing. Very deep thoughts...I'd like to read more.

shakatoah   shakatoah wrote
on 11/5/2008 6:07:48 AM
There's a quality of writing that's not often found in modern literature...I seek it out because I love its gentleness, its thoughtful turns of phrase and its mode of reflection. I see it here in the beginning of your work and am looking forward, very much, to reading more.

OneVoice   OneVoice wrote
on 10/23/2008 10:45:49 PM
This exquisitely bittersweet write 'speaks' of remembrance, past joys, fatigue, alienation, loneliness, regret, doubt, disappointment, uncertainty, lack of self identification, betrayal, hope and yes…, love - even if that love wasn’t ‘perceived’ as real. It is filled with a cornucopia of emotions that 'scream' in the in silence of the rain – feelings that evoke tears that flow like the drops that covers him. You have 'summed' the gambit of human emotions in this tragedy. To read of a tragic end would be ‘The nail in the coffin.’ Hope lives! Let this (the 'Findings of a man') write be but a glimpse, a snapshot of a tragic event, in time, into a ‘window’ of the life of a man - with the possibility for hope. This must have taken time and great pains to write. It resonates of a ‘personal’ nature.

StarPoet   StarPoet wrote
on 9/29/2008 12:08:46 AM
I can tell that this will be a very well thought out book. Just reading this shows your depth.

Novel / Novella
writing Luqman_Qadi
Expressionism, Victory, Overcoming
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Rating: 10.0/10

There is always a revelation of reason that manifests through the disappointments and pain we endure in life. Some people surrender to defeat (only to and live a stagnating and hopeless state of existence) instead of waiting on the revelation of the reason they are being placed in that state of turmoil. However, some people build stepping-stones to victory during their disappointments and pain they endure, but it is a process that takes a lot of perseverance. Defeat is a spirit that over powers the mind and soul, but the spirit to challenge those conflicts in life embraces the strong in heart, and these people soar to the level of mastery in life. I hope that in reading Expressionism:The findings of a Man, through the experiences of a man in conflict with life‘s uncertainties, you will find some comfort to know that, all actions executed against anyone-good or bad- can be for the victory of one’s soul.
A Word from the Writer
Available through AuthorHouse
Published Date
9/5/2008 12:00:00 AM
Published In Qadi