In the Spirit
  Poets, Poetry, & Poems

Abraham Heschel (1907 – 1972), The prophet is a poet


“The prophet is like a poet who is frequently overcome by a raptus mentis [raptus conveys seized, captured, trance-like state, and ecstasy and mentis conveys standing outside oneself or departure of the mind]. At times the poet is overcome unexpectantly, at other times he prepares himself for the creative moment with a pen in hand and an inkstand on his desk. With his attention concentrated on a specific content, a certain excitement enters his soul, with his thoughts and images flowing upon him.


….The prophet is a poet. His experience is one known to poets. What poets know as poetic inspiration, the prophets call divine revelation Psychologically considered, prophetic inspiration is not materially different from furor poeticus [ the divine frenzy or poetic madness] of the master-poet or artist. The inspiration of the artist is what is meant by the hand of the Lord which rests upon the prophet.”


Heidegger: The most basic form of language is the poem. Heidegger writes:


True poetry is not just a more elevated mode of everyday speech. On the contrary, it is everyday speech which is a forgotten poem, a poem exhausted by its overuse, whose summons is now barely audible.

It is in poetry that we hear the speech of being. True speaking is first of all listening: we can only speak to the extent that we listen (58). As things are summoned through language, they ‘come-to-presence’, yet this ‘coming-into-presence’ is always marked by absence. It is a ‘trace’, not a fetishizable and circumscribable presence. It cannot be grasped onto, as it melts away as soon as we seek to do so.

‘Symbol and Sacrament’ Chapter 2:I: Heidegger and the Overcoming of Metaphysics Posted on December 31, 2011 by Alastair Roberts

 


Poetry of Spiritual Leaders

Spiritual leaders throughout the world and widely scattered in human history have relied on poetic expression: St. Teresa of Avila, the monk Thomas Merton, St. John the Cross, Zen Masters such as Dogen, Ryoken, Huang Po, Thich Nhat Hanh, and also Chinese spiritual leaders such as Chuang Tzu, Wu Men, Wang Wei. Rumi is probably the best-known Sufi poet but other Sufi poet-seers include Ibn Arabi, and Al Hallaj.  include even Pope John Paul II, and Buddha, as well as Confucius and Lao Tzu. In fact, in the Old Testament, many of the Biblical passages are in verse and poetic form.


15 Then Moses and the Israelites sang this song to the Lord:

1 “I will sing to the Lord,

   for he is highly exalted.

Both horse and driver

he has hurled into the sea .....

7 “In the greatness of your majesty

   you threw down those who opposed you.

You unleashed your burning anger;

   it consumed them like stubble.

8 By the blast of your nostrils

   the waters piled up.

The surging waters stood up like a wall;

the deep waters congealed in the heart of the sea. ........

11 Who among the gods

   is like you, Lord?

Who is like you—

   majestic in holiness,

awesome in glory,

 working wonders?


Mirabai: Hindu spiritual poet-saint- The Spiritual Fire - 

I am mad with love

And no one understands my plight

Only the wounded understand

The agonies of the wounded

When the fire rages in the heart

 Mirabai (c.1498–c.1546) is venerated as Saint Mirabai. Mirabai, a famous Bhakti saint, was a Hindu mystic poet and devotee of Krishna!


 Synopsis of real people with real stories of spirtuality



  1. Rebecca

I have had the good fortune of meeting a lot of people who have had spiritual or spiritual-psychic experiences. Of all those people, by far, Rebecca has done the best job of Illustrating the Truth about spirituality - which is often much better than explaining it in rational arguments. Since a focus of this poetry page is on spirituality I thought I should start with that.


When you see your knowing come true

A scene of a life unfolding

Two years before life knew

When you know loves meaning

And feel the frequency of powerful truth

Sometimes you are shown your path

Future moments given for review

The gift and curse of this sight

Colors my world in shades of blue

I must believe or not believe

Stay blind or walk the path to you

And while I surrender to the mystery

All the feelings come along too

I get fractured by this weighted sight

And the knowing that comes from the view

Poet 💫

Rebecca 


To Be, or Not To Be? That is the Question! -


Rebecca, who was very private about her experiences, as many are, spoke about the essence of spirituality in a poem about her experiences says pretty much the same thing that I do - except much more creatively and expressively! The following is an excerpt from her poem. The pivotal question is as Rebecca says: "I must believe or not believe"  - To Be or Not To Be , That is The Question! I am a little more pedantic about it but I say the same thing - experiences force the mind to do something with the experiences - one way or another   --- which comes down to "yes or no?" Believe or don't believe? To Be or Not to Be? It is the Ultimate Question of what to do faced by something that just doesn't make sense? - Faced by the Ultimate Chaos Question?    


Flynn made simialr remarks to what Rebecca syasFlynn, who at age nine, had a dream that his mother would die mirrors what Rebeca Says as well!

many times I have explained to my children that reality is a very important observation and that understanding it, is living in the now the present regardless of the past reality which only exists in your mind .They have started to understand and understanding it does not destroy the world you live in if you have always been kept in the loop as it is called your reality for example if i have seen the future told others of it and it happens what is the meaning of it ,I am not sure, yet It happened several times and it is my reality.


                               "fractured by this weighted sight"

I couldn't have explainjhed spiritual expericnes better "fractured by this weighted sight" - an absolutely brilliant insight!


2. Angel, a counselor and confidante that I met back in 2017 on my journey, eloquently and passionately describes her vison of "spirit" and spirituality that seems to be inclusive of and embrace many others' views and understandings of spirituality : “Spirit, to me, is literally; everything. It is the universe beyond our very small, limited existence as human in a physical world. This encompasses your view too, of Spirit being a creative force. It is THE creative force since it is everything. So, when we as humans, create or connect or dream or heal...we tap into Spirit.” As Angel mentioned my view has always been that spirit and spirituality is in essence and at the core creativity-energy and life-force and drive. 


3, Gerlinde Staffler, an award-winning poetess: brief bio and views

I'm Gerlinde Staffler, a writer from Italy, I started to write in September 2020. My poems are mostly emotional and strongly philosophic and spiritual! These sides in me are the motivations to live the life in fullest way! Spirituality is a limitless dimension of human experience and has a special approach to life, where research and inner growth counts, extending our life to a deeper level of existence that brings balance to body, mind and soul.


4, Linda Skarrup

Linda Skarrup, a Buddhist, observed that "Spirit" covers a wide range of beliefs and experiences that are personal! I don't think it's possible to pin it down to just one 'thing'.....for myself, it was a gradual awakening as to who, I AM. It was always there waiting, my first direct experience was at a meditation retreat in Montana... 30 days, no talking, nothing but meditation, food, sleep. One morning, while watching the snow come down outside through a big picture window, I heard the phrase: "this", is all there is"! Later Linda added "My spiritual practices GOT ME TO HERE! There are many paths, many teachings and many teachers.... seek and you will find the right One For You...

Last year when I started my spiritual awakening, coming from a life of agnosticism and eventual atheism, I felt that I was only now beginning to reclaim something that was stolen from me a long time ago.


5, Annie, a psychology student in a masters program:

I went through a major 'dark night of the soul' for a few years that led me to question and dig deep deeper into my false beliefs and what is really going on in the world. In a separate comment she told me that "Spirit is definitely primordial - existing prior to, within and after material. Everything is energy. Like a fish in water, many are just unaware. It's also largely a highly personal experience so the experience may come sooner for others or not at all if they choose to look at a superficial level.

Almost all of education unfortunately focuses on developing and using the left-brain, logical mind and not the right- brain creative mind. Both must be balanced. When people are stuck in the left-brain, they will never understand your spiritual message. The unconscious speaks in symbols and is the key to spiritual truths but people no longer understand how to use this. I feel it is by design...."

Similar to Linda, and Angle, Annie's concept of spirit in that it is "pervasive in consciousness" (everything) and a way of thinking is "everything" as well. She also talks about energy. A moment's consideration of how science might objectively describe or define life in an abstract way, describing "life" as energy or an energy system would seem likely candidates.


6, Mirabai, an independent woman with some hybrid beliefs parallel (though likely very different as well) - to Congresswoman Tulsi Gabbard's hybrid beliefs. Tulsi Gabbard says that "I was raised in a multi-faith family studying both the Christian and Hindu scriptures. We observed Christmas and Janmastami (the birth of Jesus and the birth of Krishna). So my two primary sources of inspiration, spiritual comfort, and illumination come from the New Testament, and the Bhagavad Gita (the song of God), the ancient Hindu scripture spoken over 5000 years ago." (from Tulsi's website https://www.tulsigabbard.com/about/my-spiritual-path)

Mirabai states that "In our Vedas teachings, we each have a Dharma...a sort of duty... There is the Dharma of an educator...there is the Dharma of an intellectual person...who will always be in the pursuit of gaining knowledge...& enlightening others about it... There is also the warrior Dharma...The merchant Dharma... The labourer Dharma... The other is the outsider Dharma... These are the people who change things... None is superior or inferior. All the above is needed for us to function in this world, relying on each other's Dharma." That is each individual has their own cosmic divine destiny - or dharma. Again this is very parallel to both the Corinthians as well as to Marwa's views.

One focus of Mirabai is Santana Dharma. Sanatana dharma, in Hinduism, term used to denote the “eternal” or absolute set of duties or religiously ordained practices incumbent upon all Hindus, regardless of class, caste, or sect. Different texts give different lists of the duties, but in general sanatana dharma consists of virtues such as honesty, refraining from injuring living beings, purity, goodwill, mercy, patience, forbearance, self-restraint, generosity, and asceticism.


8. Sarah, who has had a few spiritual-psychic experiences expressed her understanding as "Religious and spiritual frameworks allow human beings to co-exist comfortably with mystery and unknowing. My relationship to God is limited by my cognition (ability to intellectually conceive or imagine ) It is also outside the scope of my material perception (eyesight, hearing, etc.) Yet, this relationship is essential to my existence. Technology has benefited mankind enormously but it has limits and can be used for bad ends."


9. Dr Paul Wong:  A metaphor of light within the meaning of meaning

The best metaphor for meaning in life is LIGHT.

When we feel lost in the dark, we need LIGHT to show us the way to our destination.

When we don't know what is happening in the dark, we need LIGHT to understanding the situation and our role in it..

When we cannot see ourselves in the dark, we need LIGHT to see our true self.

When we feel the horror of night, we need to discover the LIGHT of shining stars in the dark sky.

When we don't know how to make our life significant, we need to endure sacrifice or burning in order to give LIGHT.

by Dr. Paul Wong

 

10. Marwa a Muslim woman who has had spiritual experiences of her own and has a beautiful poem about the "spirit eye" which many people like when I posted it. Marwa's spiritual experiences do appear parallel to "dark nights of the soul" as the psychology masters student explained it.

Of her own spiritual experiences Marwa said her spiritual experiences are a "Gift by Allah, giving to those who love believing in him, and give them this spiritual gift" - a "gift and will commit leading to creativity and geniuses." Marwa went on to say that different people have different "gifts" - much as Corinthians in the New Testament lays out about gifts - such as the gift of wisdom, clemency and patience. gentleness and patience, bravery, intense faith, resourcefulness, and leadership, as well as discernment and inspiration.   

 

11. Marija Najthefer Popov: an Award winning Poetess from Sivac, Serbia Marija says that her poetry focuses on "Love, the beauty of the rose ... and all my songs are focused on the essence of a woman. A woman's mother, daughter, sister, lover is lonely ... a woman and a woman's inner nerve.

There are countless women in me. I write about them. Spirituality but, that spirituality is so magical, so elusive .... to everyone ... Only hypersensitive women are filled with that spirituality and only those, such, can feel, experience ... all emotions and all passions ...."


12. Annael Poet Artist, perhaps said ti best, when she said

"The ability to be an artist, a true artist, stands like a gift from the Gods in one's soul. To be able to bring down to Earthly life the images of harmony and beauty that live and weave within the Spiritual Worlds, is something that cannot be learned or taught. It is like a river that simply flows and it is a blessing that no human being can produce by himself/herself, but is a Divine Desire and Choice to bestow such a gift unto a human being....As for the gifted person though, this gift must be looked at only as a grave responsibility, and that the whole Glory belongs to the Gods, not to the human being."

Annael


 




Preface: The Song of Amergin I - Earliest Poem in Irish history   


"According to the historical legend, Ireland was invaded from the south, in the year of the world 3500, by Milesius and his followers. They found the isle in the possession of a fair and highly gifted race, the Dé Dananns.


It is related that when the Milesians landed, a conference took place with the kings of the island: these offered, if the Milesians withdrew for three days, they would decide upon one of three courses, namely: retire, submit, or fight. Amergin (brother to Miled, or Milesius), a bard, druid, and judge, was chosen as arbiter. He decided that the island belonged of right to the Dé Dananns, and that his kindred should withdraw over nine green waves. If then they could land again and conquer, the island should belong to them by the right of battle.


"This is traditionally believed to be the first poem ever composed in Ireland. All of the elements of the poem have ruminous associations in early Irish literature There is no dualism here. All is one. This ancient poem preempts and reverses the lonely helplessness of Descartes’s “cogito ergo sum,” I think there fore I am. For Amairgen, I am because everything is in me. This magnificent hymn to presence outlines the ontological depth and unity of the anum-cara  (title of John O’Donohue’s book - anam meaning "soul" and cara meaning "friend". Experience)!"



The Song of Amergin I

loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch


I am the sea blast

I am the tidal wave

I am the thunderous surf

I am the stag of the seven tines

I am the cliff hawk

I am the sunlit dewdrop

I am the fairest of flowers

I am the rampaging boar

I am the swift-swimming salmon

I am the placid lake

I am the summit of art

I am the vale echoing voices

I am the battle-hardened spearhead

I am the God who inflames desire

Who knows the secrets of the unhewn dolmen

Who announces the ages of the moon

Who knows where the sunset settles


This is traditionally believed to be the first poem ever composed in Ireland. All of the elements of the poem have ruminous associations in early Irish literature There is no dualism here. All is one. This ancient poem preempts and reverses the lonely helplessness of Descartes’s “cogito ergo sum,” I think there fore I am. For Amairgen, I am because everything is in me. This magnificent hymn to presence outlines the ontological depth and unity of the anum-cara (title of John O’Donohue’s book - anam meaning "soul" and cara meaning "friend". Experience)!       


John O'Donohue speaks of the ancient Irish poet and bard Amairgin and says that "For Amairgen, I am because everything is in me!"  



 

In the crystal dark night of summer

 The infinitely-distant pin-prick lights of the infinitesimal iron core star-lights

 seem but tiny bright winks

-  winks hinting conspiratorially of mystical secrets known to a chosen few

 Thirstily perception drinks in the vast starlit darkled sky bound heavens

Upon the gently waving water of the broad creek,

tiny light points are fleeting reflections of the bright moonlight

-dreamlike, these miniscule sprites

dance and spin as if on sparkling wet fabric

 This summer’s warm night has unveiled an enchanted theatre

-a theatre with a light sprinkled watery stage.

It is a ballet of pirouetting moonlight

-a ballet choreographed to the faint murmuring of summer-wind

It is a shushing song sung by moon-struck muses

-shadowed silhouettes moving about in the dark cloaked scenery

The light wind warmly caresses bare skin

- Sighing wistfully as if the wind-substance had been pressed against ears


Summer

weaves its magic;

creates a tapestry of rich feelings and emotions

- emotions which tenuously touch – and so ever so tenderly - mind and spirit

In the knighted beauty and splendor of starlight, moonlight, and warm tingling wind

 the senses relish the freedom from the drudgery of the day’s duties

-new found freedom from the enslavement of society’s regimented rituals

 It is a long awaited escape from the chains of need and desire

feelings revel in the drunken orgy of senses

It is the fullness of life that spills over

It is the joy of being

 that bursts forth into the warm summer night

Being  rebirths as self-fulfilling prophecy

The purpose of life is to live

 -to feel and to feel intensely and passionately

 ;whole within a melded-universal consciousness

 Being transcends self, like a sphere turned inside out

Being is content in Being-there

-  and

for a brief millisecond

 Being is an end within itself; yet, somehow

,and paradoxically, impossibly

reaches beyond its-self to the realm of Grace.

o Miraculous wonder passes quickly

It is enough to be alive

on a warm summer’s night.

  But the Briefest Brilliant Light,

So much like a shooting star

Life and Creativity reaching so high to touch the divine,

a thought-instant of brilliance in an infinite universe

 
so much like Like the ten thousand hurried, rushing moments and scenes of mortal life, 
the Briefest Brilliant Light from a Shooting Star 

         burning bright - and brilliant!
                  passes so quickly
is yet, but bright for the briefest of times - 
                  perhaps, a minute, perhaps even two

our only too human lives - 
at the end appear but the tiniest time of thought-instants 
linked together by the most delicate and fragile insubstantial \
memoried images  

     our spirit, our life-force and energy
burning bright fiercely in the brilliant life-energy 
                creation of meanings and purposes

a tale threaded with passion and drama
which - in our mind's eye so brightly spotlight-ed theater
a saga embracing momentous passions, 
of loves lost and loves found, 
stormy desires and turbulent temptations, 
all on the stage of truth - 
and finally, by chance, coincidence or destiny  
perhaps even enlightenment and transcendence,
 

though only hardly understood or grasped at all
there is an unconsciously driven mutual sharedness within consciousness

 A communion of life, energy, purpose and direction
a collective connectivity and mutual decision-making
not oneness,
                     yet, an intertwined being, and life-evolution


Author: Charles E Peck Jr.

Burning bright

               

It is Going Full Out,

                            It is No Surrender

It is Unrelenting and Indefatigable -

It is Purpose and Drive

direction and velocity –

It is targets and ends to be achieved

                                           It is an an objective, to be reached,

               

Surmounting all other considerations

and criteria


It is That

               that MUST be Done


It is that which is Spirit within

-an all consuming drive

It is not just an essence or being for me

               It is an Energy and Truth for the many


Life is made or broken on ideas, on thoughts, thinking, and beliefs

And ideas and symbols that embrace the mysteries of human destiny and future humanities

all at risk, in doubt,

and ever to be struggled  - and striven for


In a word

 it is Spirit

Not solely in a mere word,

         But in overcoming the deathly emptiness of meaningless-matter

         Because in that model of a spiritless human being there are the ten thousand horrors

         And meaninglessness’ ceaseless tortures of thought and being

          With death and extinction stalking the Being and the Becoming of a Humanity Envisioned  though not yet born


But it is the spirit of life,

it is the bringer of truth,

Born of hopes, dreams, symbols, creativity and imagination,

It is the harbinger of unending creation,

   - spirt the workhorse of fruitfulness and productivity. 


My self!

I am but one light, one candle,

but I am far from alone

we come!

and there are many, many of us!

 we bring creativity and fruitfulness!


Charles E Peck Jr.


Might Makes Right - a Very Real, Dark Force of Historical Violence 



Rising,

                                                               Screaming for the sky.


Arguments are stated,

Historical Cycles,

 Might makes Right,

born of arrogance,

A cultural state of mind – a prison of norms

               Barriers and boundaries

Binding thoughts to conventions

and mundane procedures, codes, and petty protocols


though unseen, unconscious, invisible

and unknown

is yet still a Force

A powerful emotionally energized force of symbolism,

And violent dark energy unleashed upon a witless world


It is the age-old serpent’s trick to give the illusion- the lie that ‘We’ are God!

-         that ‘We’ have the power, the right to rule All,

-         that ‘We’ have All the Answers, All the knowledge


Such a false and empty truth,

In that Absolute Truth is beyond all human consciousness,

For, without questions

               Unfinished understanding and knowledge will turn upon itself

-devouring that lying serpent and your Self and Worldly Being with it.

A Collapsing onto itself.


But for now,

In me, there are questions strung together,

               And thoughts of iron

-         as if chains, forged

 to hold and contain a violent and aggressive ignorance –

an ignorance born

               of some kind of twisted beastial logic,

 an irrationality with its own life of hunger and depravity


Calling, calling,

Horn blaring,

               Loudly, desperately,

 Tangled, perhaps even lost

among the mundane winds of the world blindly turning,

 as ever,

pausing for no one or nobody

not for compassion

not for understanding, or truth

 not even for an angel,


Turning, turning, turning

               And I dancing,

calling, calling, calling

 Singing Spirit,


With Spirit Screaming for the sky,

Hoping to touch the divine – or perhaps in truth be touched

And now,

Gathering is whispered by the wind

Rumors of Truth and Being are brought by these new winds


Historical Old Testament Prophecy: When National Death Threatens

The prophets dealt with man, not as an atom, but as a part of a social organism, a living member of a living body. To heal this body when diseased (Isa. I:6), to warn it against coming dissolution, and to bring it back to the paths which lead to perfection in God, was their great and only mission (Jer. 6: 6) Hence, they were always the more numerous when national death threatened. Just before the fall of Samaria and the fall of Jerusalem we find them working in the greatest number and with the greatest energy. (The Old Testament Prophets As Social Reformers, Rev. Geo. Stibitz) 


Studies consistently demonstrate that Trump's hate speech incites and increases violence Studies: O Hodwitz & K Massingale (2021); J A. Piazza (2020); B L. Nacos, R Y. Shapiro, Y Bloch-Elkon


There have been 804 deaths of children and teenagers in school shootings – not including college shootings. The K-12 School Shooting Database, maintained by researcher David Riedman, found 804 victims have been killed and an additional 2,221 have been wounded in 2,699 incidents since 1966. School shootings in the usa are 57 times the total of the European nations combined 73+ school shootings for 4 consecutive years plus 610+ mass shootings for 4 years!


There have been at least 76 school shootings in the United States so far this year [2024], as of November 11 [2024]. Twenty-four were on college campuses, and 52 were on K-12 school grounds. The incidents left 36 people dead and at least 103 other victims injured, according to CNN’s analysis of events reported by the Gun Violence Archive, Education Week and Everytown for Gun Safety. (CNN fast facts)[1]


Plus, the recent assassination of the United Health CEO on 12-4-24 confirms Piazza's conclusion which states “I find that hate speech by politicians is a statistically significant, and substantive, driver of domestic terrorism in countries.”


 
[1] Matthews, Alex Leeds, Amy O’Kruk, and Annette Choi. 2024. “School Shootings in the US: Fast Facts.” CNN. November 12, 2024. 



Often, I find it difficult to explain or express how, in my view, there are some very powerful social, psychological, spiritual, religious and historical forces that - in my view - are clearly powerful forces at work in the world today. For that reason I feel including my "Might Makes Right" letters to the embassies of the allies warning about historical cycles makes sense in that the historical cycle is an intuitive perception and not hard science. So, here is some "historical" background to add perspective for the poem above.


Letters to the allies embassies sent in Mid March 2017


In a letter sent to our allies' embassies, I stated: "I read an article which said that Trump’s envoy to the United Nations was going to “take names” and dictate terms to the nations of the world. That is an utter disgrace. When it comes down to it, at times, Americans can be downright arrogant. Some Americans (especially it seems when it comes to spirituality) think they have all the power and all the answers. The truth of it is Americans don’t even have the right question. History repeats itself and has definite cycles. I believe America is in the cycle of might-makes-right. After the Athenians defeated the Persians they rose to the leadership of the Greek world. They used their power to bully and dictate terms to their allies. The Athenians ended up massacring all the inhabitants of Lesbos on the argument that might-makes-right. Their policies ended up backfiring." There were, in fact, two armed revolts against the Athenians by their 'allies' who the Athenians had abused horribly. It was definitely a "Might makes Right" state of mind - and historical cycle. They say attitude is everything, and in this case it has been very real and horrifically true.



 

                            Leaks about Trump’s Abusive calls to Allies’ Leaders


July 30, 2020: The title of an article in the Indy 100, Independent stated that “Trump accused of 'near-sadistic' bullying of Angela Merkel for 'vicious attacks' in private phone call” The article went on to say  How Bernstein of CNN observed that Although Trump "regularly bullied and disparaged" other leaders like Emmanuel Macron, Justin Trudeau and Scott Morrison, his most "vicious attacks" were reserved for women, the report claims. Bernstein quoted one of his sources as calling Trump's phone calls with Merkel and May "near-sadistic". Some of the things he said to Angela Merkel are just unbelievable: he called her 'stupid,' and accused her of being in the pocket of the Russians. He's toughest with those he looks at as weaklings and weakest with the ones he ought to be tough with.

The leak from foreign intelligence led to further revelations such as how Trump called May a “fool” on a phone call which was alter verified by former National Security advisor Bolton in his book. Bolton went on to say how he, former Secretary of State Tillerson, former Defense Secretary General Mattis, as well as another former top national security advisor all agreed that Trump is “delusional – off his rocker in common parlance. So it turned out I was right and then some in my letters to allies.  




Athenian Debate About Attack On Lesbos


While I have a few documented transcendental spiritual-psychic precognitive experiences, one of which, my very detailed notarized "What a nightmare" precognitive warning to the FBI, O believe the Might Makes Right Warning is the best because it does bring some major forces at work in our world and culture into focus. What makes the Might Makes Right warning is the specific detail about Greek history focused on Lesbos - because it highlights the "Might Makes Right" argument used by Athenian politicians by the Athenians which Trump and his Republican Supporters are using now. Trump's flagrant and blatant abuse of power has been recently perfectly illustrated by his attempt to destroy the election by hijacking the Post Office.  Many seem to think historical cycles is a philosophical theory. the Might Makes Right worldview and state of mind is a very serious - and violent - real force in today's world.


In the annals of Athenian history, Cleon, an Athenian politician, in a debate in the Athenian council about a punitive (and as it turned out bloody) action to be taken against Lesbos, an "ally" of theirs argued, “We are an empire, we are at war, these are the laws you have passed, you need to uphold them or you put the city and empire in jeopardy.” In Plato's book, the Republic, the philosopher Thrasymachus perhaps argued the power position more forcefully: Injustice, if it is on a large enough scale, is stronger, freer, and more masterly than justice' and goes on to state: Justice is nothing but the advantage of the stronger; Justice is obedience to laws; and Justice is nothing but the advantage of another." 


That is Exactly Trump and McConnell's attitudes and beliefs: "Justice is nothing but the advantage of the stronger!" Convicted out of his own mouth, as the impeachment trial was getting ready to get underway at the Senate, Senate Majority Leader Mitch McConnell (R-Ky.) stated outright that no one should "expect him to handle President Trump’s impeachment trial as an impartial juror: “I’m not an impartial juror. This is a political process,” McConnell told reporters Tuesday while fielding questions about the upcoming trial. 


In a word, it is politics -and politics is POWER! McConnell, Paul Rand, Ryan, and Nunes hadn't the slightest intention of being fair or being concerned in the least for right and wrong. So Senator McConnell and the republican senator granted and acquittal for a president who uses National Security as his personal plaything. And what about: Andrew Milburn, a former top Marine officer who denounced President Donald Trump's decision to pull American troops out of Syria amid a Turkish attack on the Kurds, "saying it amounts to a betrayal of allies that will harm U.S. national security." and What about the 300 Former foreign service and Intelligence Officials who condemned Trump's use of the State Department as his personal "toy" or all practical purposes. All the Republican Senators are perfectly fine with that. The republican Senators have accepted and condoned corruption on a scale never seen before in America - all for POWER! 




New Paragraph



~ Soul Beauty ~

If you want to know where her beauty lies

I promise you it goes beyond

The simple hues of the honey, spruce green,

tangerine, dandelion, and chocolate

The colors of her eyes are soft and subtle, but passionate

Hazel is what they call it,

Bedroom eyes

Pretty as they are,

That's not where her beauty lies

I could tell you of her smile,

And the creases of her dimples

The corners of her mouth,

And satellites of her eyes

Yes her smile, Compares to a sunrise

It's warmth and it's glow

But even in all its bonny

That's not where her beauty flows

You could get lost in her curves

Yes her body is splendor

She could dance away the night

Causing you to render

You would give up your will

Give in to all temptations

But with all that is right

You'd better hold your patience

Yes her body is resplendent

But that's not her beauty's pendant

You'd admire her thoughts

They are a thing to value

Her unique way of thinking

Makes her all too often sought

For her mind is full of wisdom,

Logic, and reasoning

But even that is no comparison

To what lies in her heart

She's sweet, kind, and caring

Her love is overbearing

She wants to help everyone

And watch her people stand

She's an advocate for love,

Fairness, and forgiveness

For equality,

Dreams and creativity

Her soul is full of passion

It's where her beauty lies

Once you meet her,

You'll never forget her

She's written in the skies

In all of her aesthetics

You'll see a certain glimmer

A spark of satisfaction

A definite shimmer

You're sure of a reaction

Yes, She's pretty, certainly

But it's nothing like the beauty

Of her soul internally


© Justine Nichole 2021

All Rights Reserved

JNichole Poetry

#JNicholePoetry


                              It is the lacking


                                      looming, hovering, an oppressive presence overhead,

           The gathered greyly-darkled clouds,

brushing the horizon, lingering weightily on my eyelids

The ominous sky

               Leans over, with an oppressive awareness

The threatening-clouds intimidate, 

                    and glower glaringly,

          upon a winter-withered panorama.


Stark skeletal trees

           stretch longingly, with bony-branched fingers

                       vainly scratching the sparsely grey sky -

                                as if for revenge


These dark-barked life-drained silhouettes

                        blackly contrast to the grey horizon’s colorless canopies

               It is a sky blankly grey and devoid of hue,

                       and hinting darkly of death-masked veils.


The somber landscape,

             with the beaten, wintered grass hunkered down

   Mocks 

the past-spring’s bright budded birthing, 

the summer’s growing green grass, 

and autumn’s pastel tapestry


Gone are the fond memories of lush life of brilliant well-flowered colors

                  Now, Numb to life, 

          and deadened in its own un-existence

Earth has dimly slipped into the winter's seeming dreamless sleep

                 - a dreadful un-life, un-buried, dirge


The world has lost all feeling, and slumbers

 in an soundless senseless nearly half-awakened awareness

             

Left only with a lingering feathery nostalgia

       for what was once felt,

       

Now absent

unwept and un-dreamt,

               Being fades to naught,

fraught with haunted fleeting memories

      yet being, now dead to the world


It is The Lacking, 

It is The Absence

That pains the soul!


It is something vibrant and vital

       Now, Not here,

Hurtingly missed;


It is energy and life

 which is so desperately sought;


Humans must feel!

Human beings must feel something!!!

- if only but the stripped-down and nearly naked self-pity!


though perhaps, the slightest breath of life

 – Life needs but the barest ember of hope!


Author: Charles E Peck jr. 



OM SHANTI OM


Om Shanti Om, White Buffalo Calf Woman.

Fate’s boomerang whirling round a rainbow

in the skies above Katmandu. Eagle feathered

Familiar in the form of Cat Woman too,

trailing sparks in the silence of the forest dew,

searching for the fool who thought he knew

the lamp in the darkness of Lao Tzu.

If Minerva’s owl flies at dusk,

and with a glance a child bends

Neo’s spoon, it is not too much

to follow Gandalf’s lance

to the Tao in the new moon,

like water at the bottom of a lake,

flowing over stones

with a song that calls buffalo

back to the land.

……….

don stefan


Footnotes:


         Minerva's Owl


Minerva, the Roman Goddess of wisdom strategic (defensive) warfare, justice, law, victory. Minerva is also the virgin goddess of music, poetry, medicine, arts, trade, and crafts! Minerva is frequently portrayed with her sacred creature, an owl, usually named as the "Owl of Minerva!" The Sacred Owl of Minerva portrayed Minerva as symbol of wisdom and knowledge!


Shakti

In Shakti-Hinduism, creation arises from the union of Purusha (Pure Self) with matter or energy (Prakriti). That is, Pure Self enters into matter and gives birth to the myriad energies (which then lead to the formation of the ‘false self’). Shakti” represents the primordial cosmic energy which is the dynamic force that permeates the entire universe. As the Sufi, Rumi, observed, “The lamps are different, but the Light is the same. One matter, one energy, one Light, one Light-mind, endlessly emanating all things.”




                                        Fears and Doubts  
Morphed into Terrible Fell Beasts  

A Greek spiritual agon - a conflict or fight - 
between the Madness of Illusions and Delusions
and Real Being

threaded by anguished pain and death-fears.
          I stand,
at the edge,
on a cliff,
on the brink,
so dizzingly-mind-tingling at stunning heights not reached before!  
          Towering, Towering far above,
a bottomless void, endless, and so deep, so dark
It is a long, long, long way down 
  - twisting perspective into an inverted vertigo
being both directionless lost within itself and turned inside out
  
 taking a sudden deep breath, then holding it 
then suddenly a simple question posed and 
forced into a suffering awareness 
          simple, yet, with perilous traps and pitfalls
Bringing a paralytic fear gripping limbs, and my bone dry tongue

These dizzying cruel torments,
born of barbed thoughts swirl about me
This memory of mine - this world-shaking experience - seeming so long ago,
So many doubts: Was it? Is it - at all? 
Or, Is it not-naught - nothing but nothing?  
So, then..... Am I a man who dreams of only dreams dreaming,
Not being in truth or reality

Being,.... so unordinary, it feels, seems, and tastes unnatural
 - perhaps better put - "ab-natural" 
an of-ness outside the being of ordinariness. 
   "Is what I have conjured up as “reality” naught but a mesmerizing mirage?’
- A mangled truth mocking what is really true or meaningful
 an empty void, a beinglessness of darkled shadows 
– a phantasm, 
and formless ghosted ghoul of being and truth 
wailing and moaning of life now gone and understanding lost

This inverted, reversely-mirrored vertigo-ed unreality 
has given birth 
to the fell and grisled beasts that are 

Doubts and Fears!

Terrible in devouring hunger,
these horrid ravenous bane-wolf dream-shadowed beasts stalk me,
heartless, cold, cruel, pitiless, remorseless.

I am hunted.
Though I feel the hot breath of the long tongued bestial rancor,
I am blind to the mauling monsters.
  Since these beasts are naught but sinister veiled phantoms of my
 darkly muddied and murkled mind

Yet, 
 I can all too vividly imagine the red-eyed fiends
  with their bloodshot large eyeballs, 
watching, scrutinizing,
 each thought that crosses my mind.
Easily, all too easily, I can sense
 the venomous drool from their fangs 
drip into my emotions,
poisoning my being with their filthy saliva
which absorbs into my body which begins to rot

There is no rest, 
no sanctuary from their merciless clawing questions.
Razor-blade-sharp their long curved unsheathed claws are the inflexible, irrefutable laws of logic,
Logic incarnated as destruction.
Against the world, the rational reality,
 it seems I have no faith to armor me.
The tomorrows crawl agonizingly, horridly, and tortuously 
across the tormented, pained, bodies of painful yesterdays.

The inquest is deadly and dangerous.
Inquisitive questions can be stimulating, even intoxicating.
But demanding and incessant questions 
That call the mortality and purpose of being into question,
casts gloom and a pall over the living of life

Question-burdened emotions configure drives of despair 
destroy the balance of existence and being.
And thus, creates the chaos of a Steppenwolf, 
torn by the need for ultimate truth risking difference and being of everyone else.
This dimensional churning of consciousness,
  where needs be, some kind of direction and charge, whether real or not.

In a land of uncertainty, 
a world fraught with half-thoughts and dark feelings.
It is all madness
Thus insanity is ordered and becomes meaning.

I am the self-created prey of my own imagination.
The doubts bring fears.
And the fears bring anguished pain.
a perpetual torture of mental anguish
The darkly hidden threat of insanity that brings cringed shaking.

Within the hideous dungeon of insanely self-incriminating guilts and blame,
which makes of the mind a prison, breeds a loathing of - and for - oneself 
making of life cruelly unbearable.

               The not-knowing is excruciatingly agonizing unbearable.
If I could but grasp where I was in this torturous pained maze of thoughts,
  Faith would light my way out,……………But I have no faith 
and so I crawl along on what little hope I have, moving as the disturbed ghoul of contorted reality.

Nested within the question of what is real, 
is a question of being!
For if what is, is not real,
then I am but the shadow of a ghost – nothing but a joking jester,
 a specter mocking my own being!

Tattered and torn is my consciousness,
 my emotions mere shadows of feelings
Piercing are the beasts’ intelligence, 
and savagely the beastial logic tears at my being,
Now become a mangled mass of mutilated meanings and fractured feelings.

Unless, 
I turn and make a stand,
I will devour myself with my own doubts, questions, and forebodings.
I will rip and tear at myself with questions and doubts

 Yet,
Unless,
the question is asked, there can never be an answer,
Either the dreams of men have meaning and purpose
 Or the dreams are nonsense, the drivel of madmen,
Leaving man destitute of destiny or fate,
And life an empty joke and a cruel abstraction.

The world is a surreal and dreamlike theater, 
a play, in which absurd marionettes 
pontificate vainly and obscenely gesture, derisive of meaning and truth. 

I am a prisoner in this play’s plot of pretense and sham. 
But in this scene, 
I will posture,
 and I will articulate words 
as If they held some secret and hidden meanings,
I will say my appointed lines at my appointed time,
whether they be the jabbering of a jester
 or the inverted gibberish of a Jabberwocky
 speaking for the amusement of a cold scientific court,
or, perhaps of words in spirit unknown.
 

Driven, as if by unseen and overpowering forces,
 forces against which I cannot contend.
 playing my part.
Speaking seemingly incoherent lines
Though, perhaps, not convincing –
Not even myself.

Upon this nightmarish stage, this seeming black hole for consciousness, 
I will utter my assigned lines,
Yet I know not whether it is the portent of a fool,
An idiot’s soliloquy,
An actor on a stage unseen.
Speaking words without fully understanding - or believing them

Or whether this may reveal a glinting, glancing glimpse of a truth.
a thought-instant of cosmic consciousness

For, in this theatrical play of portent, and innuendo
Long forgotten  
Visions and Dreams yet held fast in ancient memories of humanity 
of futures that seem eternal forces of destiny,
aspects of reality, rarely seen, and much to be wondered about.

New Paragraph



We can not deny we need each other to survive. 
When we are sick we need someone to take care of us. 
When we are sad it is nice to have someone to console us. 
When we are happy how wonderful it is to share our joy. 
As co creators emerge in an era of trust a love, 
and what better way to celebrate this with the union of helping each other 
through with the unique gifts we all discover 
through our becoming and connection to God. 
Peace 💚🥰

Belle Namaste
KARMA CLEANSE:

Be grateful.
Act with love.
Check your motives.
Watch your attitude.
Forgive.

Judy Mullen Baumann
Elizabeth Lansing's prayer formed and spoken as a lyric poem
 
                                                                                                   In the Vortex
                                             In the Vortex  of life and being
                                                                         
 What is Being, but, of Of-ness
For when Being is, it must always be "Of" something -         
                                Yet to be of something is to belong to something,
and belonging is kindred to possession 
 
in the Matrix of the Myriad Choosings
                  being is shrouded in the veiled darkness 
steeped in un-ending, un-knowns,
                 are the silent whispers of shadow-ed life
                                   
                                    of the striving-yet-to-be  
                and from even darker doubts,
                                                         seeming replaces being 
                      - as if - delusions now mock the eternal truths,
                                      
                                           in this darkened world, 
             yet-to-be-Being 
grasps desperately
                        for the real,.............. for the life, 
                                                                     and yet. even more,
                                                                                         reaching, for Spirit and Truth

 For thoughts mirror birth-
                              and consciousness is of creation's ofness
And so, these strivings-yet-to-be
                  reach forward into a fractured future
                             - ever creating meanings
          making paths for the unbounded and unshackled
Though born of beginnings, this striving-yet-to-be is, in truth, an end –
                               The horns of an endless finality 

In beginning, it is a Royally heralded fanfare //
                 always beckoning, urging ever
   to a beginning, to an end
                  motion ever toward a connecting
The connectivity of a consciousness's web are intricately woven 
                     into a thought structure of myriad aspects and diamond-faced facets

                 Guided, blindly, by an inner light
grasping for necessity and life

Always Driven, 
compelling 
                              spirit-born
              and striven of the ten thousand entangled realities,
                                 all of which are
          inter-reflection-ed and self-mirrored-refracted truths

Yet ever moving,
         And never resting
                 creating, birthing

                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                          a quest, a journey

Is
                              A narrow precipitous path;
A thin ribbon restricted fine lines 
                                 with constricted space squeezing and limiting potential. 
In the dancing journey of meaning and purpose!
                                A purpose from which
 A single misstep or slightest slip of concentration
must bring, a falling - and then disgrace;
ending all, in ignominious failure

Yet, it must be tried
So, I ask,
 Where is a way?
Bring forth that inner light of understanding and truth
That it may shine on us all
And Show the way!

The inner light,
Ancient, and long hidden amidst the eons, 
must shine forth!

An end, a goal to reach,
Yes, though the ever elusive words
escape the chains and fetters of thoughts
and, so, remain unspoken;
In a vision it appears ever so clear 
 That I must bring the light to me!
Light renewing in re-birth!

Perhaps an illusion, though it appears in my mind,
It must be that my Lady of the Lakes,
 who holds, dearly, the sword-of-light,
She blesses me:
That mesmerizing mystical mystery-laden lady -
she has the sword of Camelots 
Camelots, long lost in the shrouds 
of half-remembered, half-dreamt legend and truths,
Though also being of the myriad unknown futures and utopias yet to be/

For utopias are but, bits of light-sparks,
 Beginnings brought to brilliance by being!
Dreamt in a dream long cherished,
Yet to be done, that which, was, and, is, undone! 

 
yet, yearning-to-be
Is for the asking!
Quest is rooted in Question
Truth, rightly asked questions,
Is that Seeking brings answers
     and necessarily
lights the inner illumination of understanding!

And so, 
the questing journey marches onward,
ever perilous 
amongst the prophetic portents of meanings and purpose
and 
the rocky dangers of destiny's sensuous siren songs!

  
   
                                                     The Phoenix: Rebirth Again

From a
           Mis-shapen  palm-sized heap of sand-like dusted gray ashes,
Though, from all appearances, dead -
                   There rises misty twirls of radiant steaming-smoke

Gradually from warm
                                         to red hot
             Glowing-grows within the ashes,

And from seemed nothingness,
                          First smoke,
 Then small licking flames sprout from
                                                                          The dead ashes

It is human rebirth,
                                          Human creativity-creation and life’s birth-rebirth
                Irresistible and unrelenting

Rebirth quickly grows and now
                    In this life form that is within
           Flames leap forward,
Burning energy,
 
In the act of conception
             Thoughts, arise
                                      Forming, informing actions
 
A design within which there is life,
                            - for without design and designing, there could be no life -
And, it is that design is the first breath of life,
                - perhaps it also is the last breath of life

So,
          From the dead ashes,
   a new design appears
                     the flames of being rising brightly
 the phoenix reborn into
                                             A new being
And so,….. a new life

              Burning brightly
                                          Rising again,
 Intensely burning red into blue tipped

It is wonderous life
 Rising-awesome of itself 
      
            A miracle, 
…  NOT to be denied.
                                                               Born-Again, the Phoenix Rises 
                      - Rebirthing ever again 

                                                        (From my 1970 High School Graduation Yearbook) 
                                                        

                     The Wall Poem
                                                                                                     
                                                                           Seeing nothing, 
                                                                 he searched for Godot, 
                                                                     found Steppenwolf, 
                                                                         and touched feet with the wall 



                                                                        Some Reflections on the Wall

Jungian psychology holds that in the Unconscious and Collective Unconscious there are archetypes which are according to Jung "predispositions" in the unconscious of a person's mind. Archetypes would likely act similarly to having “scripts” or pre-programmed plans within consciousness. In looking back at the Seeing Nothing poem, the poem would appear a bit prophetic of some future events and situations that were to happen to me later in my life - so perhaps there were some predispositions and archetypal scripts at work in my mind which made things turn out the way they did. Also, the line about “Steppenwolf,” which reflects a Steppenwolf-split personality between a higher ‘divine’ personality and a lower ‘animal’ persona, would seem to express a conflict that happened within me, but also in society in general. In the wider ‘society’ there has been a definite decline in religious affiliation but also a decline in belief and even acceptance of spirituality. 

                                                                              Waiting for Godot
In the Waiting for Godot play, the author, Samuel Beckett, has the two main characters, Vladimir and Estragon, waiting around - seemingly aimlessly - for the arrival of a person named Godot. Godot never arrives! Similar to the characters of Beckett’s play, in my own life, in high school and college and later, I searched for an unknown something or somebody – waiting for that mystery-answer to life to appear. But, of course, that never happened since, in all reality, at the time, I really didn’t have the faintest idea what I was looking for. So, in my own life, my life at the time was metaphorically a mirror reflection of Beckett’s play, Waiting for Godot. From 1970 to 1981, I searched for Godot, when, in 1981 I had my precognitive “What a nightmare” spiritual-psychic experience – which started me on an entirely different journey and quest.
Also, in regard to “Waiting for Godot, I had some awareness in high school of the play, but I definitely had not heard that it had been suggested by Deirdre Blair that due to the common references to “feet” in the play that it might be an unconscious play on the slang term for boot, "godillot or godasse." In my short poem, of course, the concluding line was “and touched feet with the wall.”

                                                                                 Finding Steppenwolf

There is much in Steppenwolf that not only appears to mirror some aspects of my personal life, but also seems to profoundly reflect some very salient characteristics of our contemporary society and culture, as well. Steppenwolf, the character and person, decries the the hollow essence and well-being of his society, when Steppenwolf proclaims, "Ah, but it is hard to find this track of the divine in the midst of this life that we lead, in this besotted humdrum age of spiritual blindness, its politics, its men! .... And in fact, if the world is right, if this music of cafes, these mass enjoyments and these Americanised men who are pleased with so little are right, then I am wrong. I am crazy. I am in truth the Steppenwolf that I often call myself; that beast astray who finds neither home nor joy nor nourishment in a world that is strange and incomprehensible to him." (p. 48-49) "Spiritual blindness" rings especially true in today's world where much of orthodox or mainstream psychology views spirit and spirituality as illusion or even mental illness.   

Due to the fact that, in my upbringing, I had no awareness or education in spirituality or psychic and consciously thought them superstitious nonsense at the time, there was an intense emotional and spiritual fight going on. Essentially, then, in part due to the lack of any central purpose or meaning, for all practical purposes there were two personalities battling it out. One personality was a “rationalist” or materialist personality that regarded spirit and spirituality as superstitious nonsense. And in conflict with that materialist personality, there was a “spiritual” personality that believed in “Sprit” and a more pervasive “Spirit”, as in a universal intelligence to the universe, or God, as it were. It definitely wasn’t as if the spiritual experience had sprinkled some “fairy dust” on me. There were a lot of emotions, a lot of unknowns, and a lot of fears. It was a pretty gritty fight, in all truth.  

So, the reference to Steppenwolf, who in the novel by Herman Hesse, had a split personality between an “animal” personality and a “human” and “higher spiritual” personality was definitely a prophetic observation. One analyst noted that Hesse felt there was an obsession with the “suffering and despair” of Steppenwolf eliminating the human potential for “transcendence and healing.”  

Also, it is unclear whether the climatic murder of Hermine by Steppenwolf actually occurred or whether that was in truth just another illusion and hallucination of the “Magic Theater.” Some believe that Hesse tries to juxtapose the physical causal reality with a higher “metaphysical” Truth. In any case, in my life the struggle between what is real and what is illusion was a fairly constant struggle. The bottom line for me was that the two somewhat conflicting -philosophies-ideologies became entangled and it took me something like twenty to thirty years to sort things out. So, for me the reference to Steppenwolf represents a bizarre synchronicity and an incredibly eerily very prophetic.

                                                                    Bokononism and ‘Feet Touching the Wall’
From Cat’s Cradle, written, by Kurt Vonnegut, Bokononism is a fictitious religion whose foundation is the principle of “foma.” In essence, foma, are held to be harmless untruths. The sacred Books of Bokonon, begin with this admonition: "Don't be a fool! Close this book at once! It is nothing but foma! All of the true things that I am about to tell you are shameless lies." The most sacred Truth of the Bokonon religion is to "Live by the foma that make you brave and kind and healthy and happy." So, the Truth of the religion is that if you believe in their lives you will have peace of mind, be righteous, and live the good life. Boko-Maru, the pinnacle of Bokononist worship, is the ultimate intimate act of prolonged touch and contact between the four naked soles of the feet of two persons. Of course, many people these days see God and religion as a “delusion” and “untruth.” I can’t help but comment that without “Spirit, Truth, and Compassion” religion is really just a farce.   
Lastly, the poem, at the end, refers to “the wall” and it seems a little curious and a bit of synchronicity that I began writing and connecting with people just as Trump with his “Wall” came onto the stage. Though, “the wall” could represent the barrier I run up against frequently when I try to connect with people about spirituality and especially “transcendental” spirituality. 

                                                          


                                                                        A matrix of encrypted life-energies

                                 Incredibly, unbelievably complex
              And in the codes are the myriad meanings 
- the variegated fountain of life
                   Though seeing beyond the cyber-video- veiled- rainbow walls and barriers,
Finding direction is the overriding command,
                            And, if-then, and thus it is seeking ever more for questions
Leading to answers,
Leading to questions
An unending challenge to intelligence, to being
Evermore driving for the end,
                                                               perchance to dream, as it were

Of all the miscellaneous meanings 
                  interwoven into purpose and purposes
and though not fully understood,
                always 
one holds fast with a death grip to these slim threads of life,

for life is meaning and meaning is purpose
                        blossoming, ever-adapting and adjusting,
shifting, now yet at times in the future foreseen,
                                                                     yet always in movement
 
and in that journey, is life and guidance 
                    Which would be the meaning of motion and energy
A discernment and judgment.
                      And in that,
                                                                               a  tapestry of Spirit and Truth





                                                                        A Meaning Seeking Animal on the Hunt

Beyond the nether regions of absolutes and stiff-backed theories,
                     There are truths that move along paths-unknown,

Intruths, the myriad ten-thousand well-articulated thoughts 
                                 are of beautifully jeweled-ideas from seeming forgotten pasts and unknown futures.

In this “ought” world of ‘what-ifs,’ ‘only-ifs,’ and ‘should-have-beens.”, 
thoughts subsist of ornate ornaments of intentionality.

And,
                            Intentionality, much like a theatrical drama, 
hints of portent and enthroned purposes 
                      costumed and bedecked actors and actresses
           and pompous jesters giving voice to profound speeches and insights 

All these players, thespians, and artists
               are advising and lecturing in long-winded sermons 
                                                                                          of reasons for Being,

For it is, in reality, that Being 
                                     that asks the questions 
                    of what is, what was, and what is yet to come.

Being asks of Prophecy, Spirit, Time, and Truth

It is a question of life,
                          the life-being-animal leaving its mysterious tracks of meaning and intentions

 
Man, the animal spirit=meaning, on the hunt,
The meaning seeking animal is intent on capturing an elusive and cunning prey.


Everybody needs a little B17 synchronicity

                           After a somewhat sleepless night of tossing and turning,
My mind,…being mind-in-itself,
Nested in words, writing, and spirit
                                           of precognitive being,

and Feeling combative 
Like a B17 Fortress has,
                       is
           Raring to go, anticipating takeoff,
taxiing down the runway,
All four engines firing rapidly, loudly, 
efficiently soundly thrumming within the mind,

                                      Propellers turning, whirring in the air
                                                            A blur of motion and energy

Turning on the liftoff-runway,
                Then, pushing the throttle to full
The engines loudly thunder-in-thunder
                      Roaring a Deafening Defiance
, silencing all the half-thought unspoken objections 
                      Objections
                                            wishing for speech but nestled within ideas and, 
                                                    so, soundlessly-structured, -- not touching leaden lips 
 
 Shuddering, the plane leaps forward,
Picking up speed, shaking, shuddering
 Pushing - Wings are drafting air
                          As if by will and wishing alone,
Lifting, lifting, lifting 
                         an irresistible force longing for height,
      For the heavens

The wheels lift from the concrete path
I am off,
I will go,
I will not be stopped,
This will be done.

Winged words fly forth
, each upon their dedicated purpose,
Of intricate understanding,
Fruit will be born,
 For,
in the end,
It is,                       , that is food.
        , of meaning,                              !!!!
                                                                                           And is not truth above meaning?
And thus, meaning and as writing, are of the species survival 
Truth must not be denied.

Note about this poem. After I sent this poem to my good friend, and advisor, Angel, she mentioned that in the film she is making of her departed partner Sam’s photography, her final addition to the film had been a video clip of Sam flying a B17 Flying Fortress.

                                                

                                                                        The unseen inner fire

                                     Forged of unleashed imagination, 
                                                                 abstractions from the furthest reaches, 
                     and fiery emotions

so much like those sudden flashes of brilliance and brightness 
                               on the sun’s volatile and radiant surface

so much like those powerful  blinding solar flares 
                         , those boiling eruptions of electromagnetic violence imbued upheavals   
                                       - launched upward from the surface in coronal-mass-loops of ejected energized mass
first lifted then pulled down by unseen electromagnetic forces.
 
Ever erupting – unceasingly ejecting raw desires in pyrotechnic displays 
  Oft born of necessity and purposes barely grasped or understood,
 Born of mass-earth yet induced by heaven-ed transcendental consciousness

Seeming from nothing - from dead matter - comes this force
 =- this energy which so desperately
  bends desires, wants, and needs to its end

  
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