|Insatiable Greed©Page 4 of 6 (1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6)|
|Silverswan ... a VERY good write! thank you for posting ... come back anytime! PC4U|
Posted: 3/1/2008 5:42:52 PM
|One’s will is not shared, it’s imposed|
Causing another will to be foreclosed
- And within such foreclosure
- There is our exposure
And the tyrant proceeds … unopposed
Posted: 3/10/2008 7:50:14 PM
|I am not your knight, I am not your savior|
I am not your judge, I am not your slaver
Nor do I own you, nor you own me
But our world is shared … for all eternity
Posted: 3/10/2008 9:13:58 PM
|Oh my. The day we met|
Never, ever will I forget
Our meeting …quite by chance
An unplanned happenstance
On that day my heart was shorn
You … The Rose, I … The Thorn
There I stood within a trance
Mesmerized by your glance
Then came courtship, you and I
Oh, so quickly did time fly
Lost in love of our romance
My heart continued its’ expanse
Marriage - our joyful day
Then we two, sailed away
The years began their advance
And all held circumstance
Your illness – quite a blow
I realized I loved you so
Our life together – had been a dance!
Thank God we met … just … perchance.
|It Goes On ...|
Posted: 3/13/2008 5:57:06 PM
|It goes on …|
I said it didn’t hurt … but I lied. What else can one say when future plans are cast aside? When the someone with whom you wanted to share your soul, loves that which is voided of competition. I knew the name of her new love and I grew to hate it. Lives were wrecked – hers and mine – and joy can never come again. She found that’s the way it is when love is named Cocaine.
But Life goes on. The sun rises. The moon sets. The oceans move. The rains come and go and still we breathe even though sometimes we wonder why. There is no desperation save that which we create ourselves, for no matter what else occurs Life survives.
The tides ebb. The winds blow. Seeds sprout to blossom. Spring gives way to summer, and all things mature – even we.
I miss her, but then, only speculation provides what our life together would have been.
Posted: 3/14/2008 1:31:43 PM
|His face was wrinkled leather|
Scarred by Father Time
Furrowed deep by etchings
From widely varied clime
His hands were calloused hard
Evidence of work that strained
But it was his eyes that showed
A soul so deeply stained.
No one knew his origin
No one asked him where
He might have been before
He’d ended up … right there.
His stance? Over six foot ten;
With strength of many men
His chest? a redwood tree
His temper ran too violently
Anvil fists could kill or maim
Breakin’ railroad ties was just a game.
Had breath like kerosene
His name was: Nasty Mean
Then one day, the story goes, a female came to town
Seems no one had seen her there-abouts around
She weren’t that pretty, fact some say: it was Homely She
But Nasty Mean he liked ‘er – ‘n that’s how it was to be
Nasty come up to that gal, ‘n said: “Hey, I’d like a kiss”
Guess it was his words to her, that got her so damned pissed
She whirled around quick as lightenin’ an’ smacked Ol’ Nasty’s face
The air went deathly quiet … not a sound within the place.
Faster than a freight train, she quickly squatted down
And with a leg extended, she spun herself around
Nasty took a swing that whistled through the air
‘Cause that Homely She, wasn’t standin’ there
Her leg caught Nasty Mean just behind his knee
Then he hit the ground like the fallin’ of a tree
The ground shook like thunder - dust was ever’where
Nasty bellowed out - his hatred raw and bare.
Nasty began to rise - scramblin’ to his feet
Homely She moved in quick, and didn’t miss a beat
Her leg shot out – it was nothin’ but a blur
Nasty swung two times but both times missin’ her
Her kick caught Nasty on the right side of his head
When he fell so hard, we all thought he was dead
But Homely She wasn’t finished with Ol’ Nasty Mean
What she did next, put an end to what we’d seen
She bent down, and spread Nasty’s legs apart
Then delivered a mighty kick to Nasty’s private parts
Involuntary was Nasty’s passed-out groan
Homely She had provided pain that went down to the bone.
After pain she did impart, Homely She just walked away
Thinkin’ things were over, but … there’s more we have to say:
No one could believe it … Nasty Mean had met his match
And after that one moment, to her he was attached
If she was to go huntin’, well Nasty’d be right there
I’m sure she got tired of it … but he followed ever’where.
He even brought her flowers, what was that gal to do?
She couldn’t shake Nasty Mean, she was in an awful stew.
Then Nasty Mean asked her, for her hand to wed
Guess that did the trick, ‘cuz nothin’ more was said.
After that Ol’ Nasty Mean changed his devil ways
He don’t go out fightin’ or settin’ barns ablaze
Got themselves married, by the preacher from Wolverine
And now her name is: The Queen of Nasty Mean.
|My Life’s Ship©|
Posted: 3/22/2008 10:28:42 AM
|My mind was loosed from its’ moorings|
And demanded to float free
My thoughts were then assimilated
By a theory I could not see
Controlled, then would I follow
Thoughtless and expressionless be
For that is the way of religions
The dictate of their deity.
No longer permitted to question
Myths or miracles read
Blindly was I to follow
All that the deity said.
So it had been with my parents
And with my grandparents, too
Just accepting words written down
By earthmen that they never knew.
Authority never questioned,
Unchallenged in total control
Is not a world to live in
While I am taking Life’s stroll
Religion is but a theory
Conjured by shaman of old
To explain phenomenon
When no explanations unfold
I believe there is a Power
A mere mortal can’t understand
Maybe it’s too immense,
Or small as a grain of sand
I’ll never see that Power
Nor will any of you
But I’ll no longer fret about
What in the next world to do
Around me the world is in turmoil
Too many things that are vexed
Fix the things in this world
Before we consider the Next.
So, for me, I’ll take my mind back
Out of religions grip
And once again I’ll be
The master of my life’s ship.
Posted: 3/23/2008 7:30:07 PM
|“It’s my life! I’ll do what I want with it!”|
I’ve heard that said time and again, but actually our lives are only rented, not owned.
If everything we see, do and know in life, is cyclical, then why not Life itself? If the moisture in the air turns to vapor, and condenses as clouds, and falls as rain to again become a vapor and continue the endless process all over again … why can’t a similar process be applied to the essence of Life?
Somewhere there are endless lines of Lives. The roller-coasters of Life stop, lets off former passengers, and re-fills with new ones, then takes off again. The chain is endless and unceasing. When you get off one of Life’s roller coasters, you immediately go to the back of the line, pickup your new ticket, and wait to board again. It may be this year, or next century, or in another millennium all together, just depends on how long the “line” has become. Oh, and another thing, there’s no guarantee what universe or country you’ll end up in, or what parents, or what color you’ll be, or what religion (if any) to which you’ll adhere. It’s the Grand Daddy of all lotteries.
So, you never “own” the ride, or the experiences on it. You just “rent” the ride, and take your chances.
Geez … you may have already been on this roller coaster a million times before!
Okay … hold on … Here we go!
|Heart Wrenching Decisions©|
Posted: 3/31/2008 11:09:22 AM
|He was an older, retired man, living on nothing more than a very small Social Security fixed income, and was at the brink of becoming “aged”, and he had health problems … potentially serious ones.|
He was also an American Veteran, (from the Vietnam Era, as the Veterans’ Administration terms that particular part of American history). As a veteran he was entitled to Veterans Administration benefits, and one of those was medical, (but not dental or eyeglass), coverage. This coverage wasn’t “free”, but it was provided at a substantially reduced price, with a “co-pay” arrangement between the veteran and the Veterans’ Administration.
The old man heard from one of the VA doctors that a malady the old man was experiencing could have fatal results, if an expensive operation were not performed. Such an operation would include a “hefty co-pay” assessment that would seriously impact his meager income.
Upon hearing the news the old man replied:
“Then, I’ll just have to die. I’m on a fixed income, Doc. That limited income provides me but few things, but few as they are, I enjoy them immensely. Were I to have the operation you mention, I would enlist a debt that would all but destroy the levels of enjoyment I am now able to experience. So, if I am faced with a decision of a longer life without the benefits of my current life style, or … a shorter life with the pleasures I now enjoy … I’d have to make my decision for the latter. I just can’t see living longer just so I can pay a creditor, when I could enjoy what time I otherwise have in the company of my remaining friends without additional indebtedness. Quality of life means more to me that it’s length.”
So, he didn’t have the operation. The old man enjoyed the three years he had left, and, at the time of his death was smiling, and, I might ad: debt free.
It is a tragedy of our age that people are forced to make such horrific decisions.
|Side Effects ...|
Posted: 4/1/2008 3:12:34 PM
|A “side-effect” of global warming (we’re already starting to see human inhabited islands that are losing their shorelines as seas begin to permanently encroach upon their shores), is one that I’ve thought about, but a topic on which I’ve seen no commentary.|
Here’s the scenario:
If, here in the United States, both coasts and the coast of the Gulf of Mexico, begin to lose shoreline from the swelling size of the oceans and Gulf waters, then those persons in low lying areas and those on or near the shoreline, will lose their homes.
That means there will be a influx of “displaced persons” to other locales within the U.S.A..
If large numbers of these “displaced persons” elect to move to the mid-America region where many crops are grown to fed America and the rest of the world, then there could be a loss of crop-producing land, which will be converted to homes or apartment dwelling sites.
That land is already being “eyed” as corn fields for the purpose of producing ethanol for fuel to run our cars and other equipment.
It looks to me like we may have to make a decision somewhere along the line, and maybe these will be our choices to pick from, i.e.,:
1. Retain the land as crop-producing so we can all have something to eat, but have no place to live and no fuel with which to power our cars, or,
2. Plant the land with ethanol generating corn, so we can drive our vehicles, but have no place to live and nothing to eat, or,
3. Sell the land for housing and apartment complex construction, so we have somewhere to live, but can’t drive our cars, or have anything to eat.
Are we slowly coming to the point where we are going to be forced to examine the vicious circle we’ve created from our gluttony and self-indulgences?
Gee … you mean somethings ARE finite? Well, I’ll be. Who’d-a-thunk?
When we’ve finally eaten, sold, burned, polluted and maimed all the land we call our country … guess what? We can’t go to the local “Country Store” and get a new one. It’ll just be … gone.
|Youth Versus Maturity©|
Posted: 4/21/2008 2:28:25 PM
|It seems to me that Youth on it’s journey to maturity, and due to it’s penchant to be clad in rainbows and desire to seek substance-less glitter, has but a small chance to reach it’s goal, until slapped hard by sobering experience and harsh reality.|
Persons and events that prevent those slaps from occurring, keep Youth in a suspended and perpetual state of adolescence and immaturity, and therefore a lifetime of hardship, disappointment and failure.
Posted: 4/23/2008 1:35:57 PM
|Those dedicated and gifted teachers who for years struggled with difficult students; survived the unfairness of academia’s systems; tolerated the ineptitude of higher authority and made an unworkable curriculum work … need to know this:|
Your name has been spoken in every foreign land on this planet by former students who studied abroad, who lived abroad or were members of the military; The education you have provided survives and flourishes in every major field of endeavor from Bangkok to Bangor through those you have taught; You live in every accomplishment, every success and every venture that each and every student has undertaken that you instructed during your tenure in that most exalted profession: Teacher.
As long as your former students breathe, your name and what you provided for them will be in existence, for you will live through them.
When you retire, and you seek other adventures, always carry with you the unalterable knowledge that it was you that changed the world though your efforts, your caring and your dedication to your students.
God bless teachers, for without them accomplishments and the betterment of the human race would not exist.
Posted: 5/2/2008 9:34:57 PM
|There is a Place indigenous to each of us which we seek, and go to, on those occasions when everything and everyone else is perceived as having failed us. |
It is our cocoon of safety, our refuge of last resort, our inter sanctum of conscious retreat and analytic thought.
We use it seldom, thankfully, because when we enter into that seeking process, it is at a time when Life is blackest and Hope is dim and woefully thin.
It is in that cubby-hole of self-solicitous retreat where we can find absolute and total truth. It is within that realm where we are no longer able to lie to ourselves, and all self-serving and falsely fabricated justifications are swept aside and ignored.
… and it is where we can examine the essence of our very being and perhaps as close as we’ll ever get to seeing and touching our own souls.
In that sacred environment we can find our answers.
Posted: 8/29/2008 4:45:07 PM
|It’s then we realize: Oh, my god! It’s over.|
The certainty of it slams into our conscientiousness like a run-away freight train.
It’s no longer: What we were going to do tomorrow – for there is no tomorrow. It is the irreparable facts of what we did in all our yesterdays, and, it is their path that has brought us to the doorway we just stepped through.
At last, as the hot brand of “The End” burns into the final remnants of our brain, we finally understand what all the “sign posts” in our past meant about changing what we were doing before “The End” came. Maybe we should have listened, for it’s lonely on the other side.
Posted: 1/4/2009 10:45:19 PM
The summer days give way to fall
Albeit it, reluctantly
And leaves gather on the ground
As the summers’ eulogy.
And Fall announces what’s to come
As trees their branches bare
Of last springs’ life they’ve shed
And Autumn fills the air.
Just months ahead is Winter
With snows so cold and bleak
And life recedes within the trees
Their former leaves antique
But just beyond again lies Spring
When life begins anew
And we’ll enjoy that life
As we bid last year: adieu.
|You, I and Life|
Posted: 1/8/2009 4:00:11 AM
|The Minds Prison:|
There is no later, it's a mislead deal, Here and now is what's undeniably real.
Cause the inside of a casket has sounds of silence, but so do the signs of faith so have patience.
These concrete walls constantly constricting, But imagination aside it's just the minds way of coping.
Cause all our lives we're told how to act, Live your life this way and like that.
But forever we will fight the battle for peace, Cause the worlds struggles seem to never cease.
With the stars in the sky shining down upon our lives, so that even in the dark we can't be denied.
Till the point in your life when you make the decision, that it's you frontal lobe that builds the biggest Prison.
Posted: 1/8/2009 4:05:04 AM
Silence, inside me,
Bouncing and making my way through, this world that seems to be so blue.
Wether it be iron bars or a steel cage, It's all the same chapter, just on a different page.
With these thoughts of chaos and complete disaray.
I scream as loud as I can, wait, please wait.
But all that comes out is silence and it's too late.
Cause no one seems to begin to understand, this life that has been placed in my hands.
But if fate is really in control, then why even bother? Just listen to the teachings and lessons of our father.
But these lessons are not taught, they are given, for us all to know if you open up and listen.
For we look at some people as though they are crazy, but who is it to determine what it is to be,
Posted: 1/18/2009 5:27:31 AM
|AlwaysDreaming and CountryLivin' ...|
I truly am awed at the depth of understanding and comprehension of life and living that the two of you paint with your words. I can only describe it as subtle genius, for there are few who can relate their feelings to others in such a profound a meaningful way ... thank you so much for sharing here for You, I and Life.
|The Most Important Thing In the World©|
Posted: 1/28/2009 5:27:18 PM
|The easiest, most fun, most fulfilling, most enjoyable, most rewarding thing on the entire planet is: bringing it a new life.|
That life is a wonderment beyond description.
Some of those children will help form the future. Some will find cures to diseases. A few might become famous. One or two might become global leaders. And maybe, one, every few generations or so, will change the entire world.
We, as individuals don’t know which we might produce. And, I don’t believe we’d want to know, for true joy lay in other things along the way.
There is no description, no way to convey the feeling a parent has when they see the light in their child’s eye that tells them they just acquired the understanding of addition or some other mathematical hypothesis. The joys can not be described of the feelings one has when first they see the understanding in their child’s eye that they have mastered riding a bicycle, hitting that high note on the trumpet, or playing a tune on the guitar all the way through without one mistake. The smiles on your child’s face at those moments can never be bought and never be taken from you it is part of the “joy-bond” you and your child create together and forever.
If we teach them right and wrong; If we provide them the tools to identify friendships and the rules to which they must adhere in order to keep them; If we instill in them true values and strong ethics, it doesn’t really matter who or what they become, for we will have fulfilled our obligations to our lives, their lives and the fundamental instructions of life which we know to be just and correct.
Bringing a new life into the world is a wonderful thing, but it remains only as good as the efforts and training we put into it.
Who are we, if we fail our fellow man by failing that new life?
Posted: 4/13/2009 10:42:20 AM
|Winter is the manifest presence of the announcement of intended death of all living things. As nature intended, it is the lowered curtain on Life’s Stage.|
Cold, Winter’s dreadful child, seeps in as the silent assassin of warm comfort and displays its presence through exhaled vapor of those beings still managing to survive its’ slow, icy strangulation.
Some, more hearty creatures, manage to survive several onslaughts of Winter, but eventually Winter wins.
Posted: 10/29/2009 2:11:58 PM
|Silent gliding appeared to be her mode of motion, for no sounds were ever heard, save the subtle rustling of her skirt as she’d pass by. In her passing, I beheld only briefly her ageless, unlined face cropped by flowing flocks of ebony hair …wisps of her fragrance lingered as an enchanted memory upon the cool air. My senses became re-awakened and alive as I drank in the essence of her being.|
No, I wasn’t dreaming … but recalling.
The strangling emotions in knowing I’d never again hold her … never again see her face … never again be near her, restricted my ability to breathe. My existence was lessened through reluctant acceptance of that truthful knowledge and my vision momentarily blurred as deep, involuntary sense of loss was born within me.
For recurring periods of time, there is nothing else in my world, save her memory, all consuming and mesmerizing.
And so it goes … day in … day out … month after agonizing month …
Loss … the forever empty abyss … known only to me … she … and God.
Posted: 12/6/2009 9:39:56 AM
|When will you meet her … or him?|
You already did … but, sadly, the moment passed without being embraced.
Now, too late, that moment is recognized for what it was: the golden ring of opportunity.
Hesitation can be the harbinger of regret, and regret the burial ground of dreams.
Posted: 2/21/2010 12:41:56 PM
|I remember way back when,|
I couldn’t have been more than ten
On a dusty road with my cane-pole
Powdered dust ‘tween my bare toes
Walkin’ with no cares or woes
To the Covered Bridge and fishin’ hole
Taking up my time by walkin’ slow
Wond’rin’ ‘bout things I didn’t know
Time moved on, I became a teen
I met “her”, - she was serene
Entering my life, she made it bright
We held hands and we would dance
The world it sparkled with romance
And we’d go walkin’ late at night
Taking up our time by walkin’ slow
Wond’rin’ ‘bout things we didn’t know
High school days were left behind
My college grades were quite a “grind”
‘Cause my thoughts were back home with “my girl”
Then she met somebody new
They held hands like we used to
My mind and grades were sent into a “whirl”
Taking up my time while walkin’ slow
Wond’rin’ ‘bout the way that I should go
After Graduation Day
I found a job with decent pay
I began to get on with my Life
I met her at the City Park
Instantly I felt the spark
I’d ask Lila if she’d be my wife
Taking up our time while walkin’ slow
Talkin‘ ‘bout the things we didn’t know
That’s now been four kids ago
Lila and I watched them grow
Seeing all the things that they went through
Kids have married, now they’re gone
Time has a way of moving on
Sometimes I wonder where the time went to
Lila and I talked while walkin’ slow
Laughin’ ‘bout the things we think we know
I lost my Lila this past year
Oh my, how I miss You Dear
In my heart you’ll always ring a chime
And now I think back or’ the years
Filled with joys and filled with tears
And I wonder when will come My Time
Through this lonely house I’m walkin’ slow
Wond’rin’ ‘bout things I’ll never know
Life is only one short ride
Like the flowing of the tide
First it rushes in – and then it ebbs
I have taken my Life’s ride
And I have my peace inside
With no problems – with no tangled webs
I’ll see what lies ahead while walkin’ slow
Where God needs me, is where I’ll go.
Posted: 1/29/2012 7:31:59 AM
|In times of solitude, when her thoughts drifted backward into the wake of her past, the wrongs, outside her realm of control (provided by fate and circumstance), silently screamed in protest of the losses and shortcoming they provided her for the rest of her life. Often those moments culminated in the flow of unanswered tears.|
Sadly, she wasn’t and isn’t unique in those moments. Millions of persons have the same experiences. What separates one from the other, are their methods of coping with those moments. Some have more successful results than others.
As time advanced, and age accumulated, the visitations to the wake of life became more and more frequent. There came a time in that procession where she retrograded and relegated herself into constantly reliving the events contained in that wake. In doing so the misery provided by past fate and circumstance became her constant and continual companion.
At some point in her past, the opportunity to change her future presented itself, but, either she didn’t recognize it for what it was, or having recognized it elected – for whatever reason – to ignore it.
She is now, and forevermore, trapped in her past, doomed to relive it without any possibility of reprieve or relief. Her advancing age no longer leaves enough time to allow an expectation of successfully engaging attempts to reverse the cocoon of the past in which she has surrounded herself.
There are millions of such lives – and we go on oblivious to their plight, and ignorant of their pain.
The waste that indecision can provide is monumental when it comes to such lives.
|Queen of the Rails©|
Posted: 2/24/2012 5:25:15 PM
|The engine: Long and black|
And sleek as she could be
She shook the earth in her approach
It was her heraldry.
A wake of steam and smoke
Hovers o’er the rails
Of hardened steel and wooden ties
Which her magnificence assails
Massive is her presence
Enormity her design
Power is her excess
This Queen is so refined
She rules again with majesty
Today while she’s in view
But … sadly this is the time,
Last accolades are due
Slowly as she comes to rest,
We see she’s thoroughbred
Where water, steel and hard, black coal
Together have been wed.
In regal-ness she’s resplendent
With fittings’ shining bright
Her radiance commands respect
On this – her final flight.
Now sitting at the siding
Puffing rhythmic breath
A far away museum will,
Of her life commit its’ theft.
Photographs will mimic
Her image of today
But missing from those photos:
The Glories of Yesterday
When o’er the steel she thundered
Demanding from all who saw
Her massive immense power
Which held them all in awe.
But Glory, she found, was fleeting
When “progress” came to call
Her future then was set in stone
Like the writing on the wall.
Now we hear the brake release …
Her throttle then is moved …
She inches down the track
There on the landscape grooved
Then as she gains her breath
And whistles out her yell
An announcement for all to hear:
“Goodbye! Hope I’ve served you well!”
She’s journeyed through the ages
And this boy – an old man now -
Watches as she fades away
And waves, as he yells: “Ciao!”
But in his mind is yesteryear
With his dog there by his side
Standing near the railroad tracks
Where Queen-of-the-Rails did ride.
And long from now whenever
He says: “Remember when …”
It will be those times to him
She’ll come alive … again.
6 (1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6)