Eyes are supposedly the window to the soul
but I think rather the soul is on the outside,
in the form of energy and spirit which flies
uniquely between and among others and
interacts with the universe in a way which is
as unique as each snowflake which must
meld with others to become something more
and in like manner we need others for us to
be who we really are, for in the vacuum of
nothing we are nothing, and in everything
we are potential of everything, looking
for our perfect equilibrium, which always
is changing because of every connected thing,
and the window to our soul is through
the eyes of others who see or sometimes
fail to see the space between us and
each other, and there is this soul-spirit
we use to connect with each other
as well as all other things of which this
universe is made of, and as we are of this
universe, we are alive as long as the universe
is alive, for our atoms have always existed
and may never be destroyed until the end of time,
they merely come together for this experience
and this miracle we call life,
and as we connect to everything else,
we affect by such measurement all things,
and thereby we are unique from the moment
we knew, the moment we understand
we are someone and sense in ourselves that we
are part of something of great enormity, we
are part of everything, and everything lives
until the end of time.
Category Archives: Musings
Tethered
Tethered to a house or in a box
we’d talk and make our plans
for life and to meet again.
Tethered the lines could be
crossed and others a third
party on the line.
Tethered, you couldn’t know
if someone could hear you
say I love you on the line.
Tethered to a word of mouth
messaging system of someone’s
little sister saying he called.
Tethered now without wires,
for you are emotionally
attached, location free.
The third parties are now the
wind, and others around you
as you chase your day.
Messages seldom voiced
but textual, tied to your
heart with emojis.
And you are emotionally
more tethered than ever …
imagine being untethered,
if you lose your phone?
The Magician, Thief and Conman
the thief says sassily to the magician
why do you think your better than me
for I can make things disappear just as you do…
the magician says, but I am not in the business
of taking, I’m in the business of giving,
for my money comes from people I’ve amazed …
the thief says, I amaze them too, for they
don’t know how I came and where I went,
only that I was there and made a living of what I do…
yes, but as a magician they pay me to amaze
them, buying back the watch I made disappear
without knowing how I made it leave and reappear…
so, you are in it for the money same as I,
thus we are no different, we are much the same,
and the conman next to us is also amazing people too…
but the conman, says I might amaze, I might distress,
I might spin a story fantastical, and they part with money
willingly to me, and so I am better than both of you…
in fact says the conman, I tell them all kinds of lies,
and they follow me for the amazement of the show,
and I will never give them what they want, they give to me…
the magician sighs, saying both of you will be caught
one day and you will disappear, one to the depth of jail,
the other to the dustbin of presidential history…
for my magic is the people, and ‘we the people’ will
endure, and find a way to reveal the truth of where
you hide, and how you’ve lied, and taken from others…
and the magician will amaze, and entertain,
as the thief slinks away along with the conman
who is stomping around selling his snake oil …
until they take them away, or we the people
do our magic.
An Old Poem Relevant Yet Today …
Written in 1939, this poem is about the plight of German Jews with no place to go, refused by every country, persecuted in their home country, driven out by a narcissist with a messiah complex and people with evil in their hearts.
Yet this poem is equally applicable today, to the refugees of the conflict of your choice. Yes, borders must be secured, but we must also be mindful that those chased away by persecution, by war, by violence and threat are part of our human family.
Refugee Blues
by W H Auden
Say this city has ten million souls,
Some are living in mansions, some are living in holes:
Yet there’s no place for us, my dear, yet there’s no place for us.
Once we had a country and we thought it fair,
Look in the atlas and you’ll find it there:
We cannot go there now, my dear, we cannot go there now.In the village churchyard there grows an old yew,
Every spring it blossoms anew:
Old passports can’t do that, my dear, old passports can’t do that.
Some are living in mansions, some are living in holes:
Yet there’s no place for us, my dear, yet there’s no place for us.
Once we had a country and we thought it fair,
Look in the atlas and you’ll find it there:
We cannot go there now, my dear, we cannot go there now.In the village churchyard there grows an old yew,
Every spring it blossoms anew:
Old passports can’t do that, my dear, old passports can’t do that.
The consul banged the table and said,
“If you’ve got no passport you’re officially dead”:
But we are still alive, my dear, but we are still alive.
Went to a committee; they offered me a chair;
Asked me politely to return next year:
But where shall we go to-day, my dear, but where shall we go to-day?
Came to a public meeting; the speaker got up and said;
“If we let them in, they will steal our daily bread”:
He was talking of you and me, my dear, he was talking of you and me.
Thought I heard the thunder rumbling in the sky;
It was Hitler over Europe, saying, “They must die”:
O we were in his mind, my dear, O we were in his mind.
Saw a poodle in a jacket fastened with a pin,
Saw a door opened and a cat let in:
But they weren’t German Jews, my dear, but they weren’t German Jews.
Went down the harbour and stood upon the quay,
Saw the fish swimming as if they were free:
Only ten feet away, my dear, only ten feet away.
Walked through a wood, saw the birds in the trees;
They had no politicians and sang at their ease:
They weren’t the human race, my dear, they weren’t the human race.
Dreamed I saw a building with a thousand floors,
A thousand windows and a thousand doors:
Not one of them was ours, my dear, not one of them was ours.
Stood on a great plain in the falling snow;
Ten thousand soldiers marched to and fro:
Looking for you and me, my dear, looking for you and me.
Christmas Decorations
They look great and did no wrong
they bring a twinkle of joy to you and I
as a symbols of a hope and love and more.
And yet after the sixth of January
we tear them down,
box them up and put them in attics
or storage, as if they are meaningless,
at least for the next ten and half months of the year. ..
What strange creatures we are, with
odd traditions which are an amalgamation
of what came before, and was popularized
by peoples long since gone and still we
hold-on, guided by the past and our sense
of preserving traditions. But why?
We do so because we allow ourselves
to feel as we did as children for
six weeks of every year… but what
if we could keep this feeling always?
“Stop trying to get out of it”
… OK… We’ll take them down!
January 6, Three Years Hence
Three years ago today we witnessed the horror of a president attempting an insurrection by inciting a crowd to attack the U.S. Congress to keep Congress from certifying the fair and free democratic election of his successor. By violently attempting to deny the transfer of power, Trump demonstrated his true colors, he is a fascist … and if you think this is an exaggeration, consider the definition of fascism, per Merriam-Webster Dictionary:
fascism
noun
1
often capitalized : a political philosophy, movement, or regime (such as that of the Fascisti) that exalts nation and often race above the individual and that stands for a centralized autocratic government headed by a dictatorial leader, severe economic and social regimentation, and forcible suppression of opposition
2
: a tendency toward or actual exercise of strong autocratic or dictatorial control
A recent poll indicates that 67% of Republicans feel that Trump’s insurrection attempt of 6 January would not disqualify him to be president.
Listen to what Trump says about attacking his political opponents, about a massive deportation plan, about tests to make sure people who come to this country represent white european values, about restrictions on personal liberties, attacks on LGBQT, and women’s rights, the suspension of parts of the constitution, and use of military in our cities, as well as reshaping the justice department to serve his needs.
I mean, really, do they not understanding what happened three years ago, and what continues today in the 2024 election cycle?
WAKE UP PEOPLE AND THINK!
Happy New Year 2024!
Well the last year seemed short
but I’m here to resoundly report
and firmly commit and exclaim
that this year will have a name
and will be longer I can say
by one complete whole day,
as we enjoy a “leap-year” 2024,
a year which surely won’t bore.
Dreams Coming True
When you have more memories
than dreams in your head
and hope is replaced by plans
and the years are ever shorter
and the children are ever taller
then, dreams of theirs become
yours, and their plans are now
your hope, it is then you realize,
your dreams are coming true!
Happy New Year 2024!
Christmas Star
May all of you near and far
know that this Christmas Star
is the sign of a time renewed
where all pain which has ensued
can be healed as a repaired-past,
so a new love and peace may last
because we gave it a new start
by letting the Word into our heart.
Meaningfulness
It seems to be a circular conundrum
that words are needed for thoughts
which beget feelings, and feelings
are needed for emotions, which
are expressed by words for them to
then become thoughts, and without
thoughts, feelings are meaningless
and there are no need for words for such
meaninglessness in life.
Except that feelings might have
begat the need for words to express
emotion in ways more than just action,
which then led to thinking,
and therefore feelings invented words,
which clearly caused thought, which then
adds meaning to what otherwise
might be the meaninglessness of life.
So then, is it the poet who is
full of words which come from feelings,
but are different from, but the same
as thoughts causing confusion or
rather the fusion of thoughts and
feelings into a commitment to
to the meaningfulness of life?
… and by now you might be thinking
the poet is quite full of something else!