"enormity" poems
I refuse to follow a trail where everyone else has
Crushed their individuality
firmly into the ground,
Silenced their hopes and dreams
so they no longer make a sound.
You do what you please,
but darling I'll blaze a trial so bright
it'll dull the suns light
And bring the trees to their knees.
Nov 7, 2014
Nov 7, 2014 at 8:27 PM UTC
Elephant in the room, shoo the hell away!
Don't stick around; I wish you wouldn't stay
Don't mess with my head, inciting all I feel
I don't need you here, I want to heal
Stop blaring in my ears, your noxious lies
I'm sick to the stomach with my pathetic cries
Resist flapping your gigantic ears
They simply just fan the rage in my tears
Quit blocking my view with your sheer enormity
Get out of my thoughts so better I could see
Halt your incessant skin rubbing against my sores
Chafing me raw on top of my existing scores
Pull out your pointy tusks, they poke and jab
I'm bent in many places; I don't need more stabs
Take your infernal rear out of my face!
I'm self-destructing, counting up the days
Cease your retaliation, leave with no protest
Go find and sit yourself in someone else's nest
Drop your intentions to stomp me broken
I'm mangled enough; almost misshapen
End this mindless rampage...please
Let me iron myself straight, in peace...
Dear elephant, have you gone?
Thank you for the blight of my time, you've spawned
Sep 17, 2014
Sep 17, 2014 at 10:16 PM UTC
*Milky way around me
stars, sun, planets, the moon
interstellar, interplanetary
orbits, i commune
The heavens surround me
galaxies, constellations, nebulae
across my cosmic journey
for revolutions i'll stay
The cosmos envelope me
dark stars, black holes, supernova
flames in my tail I see
celestial brightness of my strata
Heavenly bodies you and me
falling star, giant star, dwarf star
my love is quasar-like energy
a bolide of us is not far
Astronomical intensity
alpha centauri,sirius, achernar
encompasses their enormity
unlike pulsars, we are shooting stars*
Jan 12, 2013
Jan 12, 2013 at 8:19 AM UTC
Brave - bold- bonny young are bloom here!
They have dream, desire and determination!
Preparing for peruse and practice,
Be desperate to perform in perfection!
*****
But we the elders try to eliminate them
In the name of enormity, efficiency and effectiveness;
Enable to create ground for their experiments
We are envious; don’t want to change our thought for them!
****
We fail to remember, their dreams are also our dream!
Because it’s grown up on the soil
What we prepare through our toil!
They grown up, as we prepare the soil!
******
But, brave, bold and bonny young are struggling
Struggling to build their path to achieve their goal!
Through a street which is full of snag, snobbery and sabotage
But they are poignant, they are pioneer.......
They look forward....!
******
Vacate the road for them now
Let them blooms further
To carry our seeds further!
Jun 29, 2015
Jun 29, 2015 at 2:25 AM UTC
Sitting here alone with people around
But I only see one person in mind
She is the person so fortunate I've found
She is the person who loves me in kind.
My head is spinning as I sit here thinking
My heart is aching for the girl I'm missing
My lips they mutter, words of love they're saying
My hope is wishful that these words you're hearing.
I feel this love in my heart, it's growing
To proportions of unfathomable enormity
Sometimes it feels like my boat is sinking
When I think of the undeniable reality.
This reality that I wake up to everyday
Keeps hurling obstacles that I must face
I need the strength so my hopes don't fray
Wishing for more so I can finish this race.
I love her dearly; without her a life I can't imagine
I love her deeply; I never thought I was capable of such
I love her strong; with hopes so high, I would pin
I love her furiously; never thought I could love this much.
She is the sun that around, my world does spin
She is my star that I always look up to see
She is my moon that so clearly I have seen
She is my universe that I'm traipsing through helplessly.
I've never stopped wishing for a life beside her
I've never stopped wanting for her to be with me
I've never stopped hoping for the a life we'd make together
I will never stop trying for I believe it's meant to be.
I have pined for her so, many a sleepless night
I have yearned for her through the hours of the day
I have craved for her; craved with all of my might
I have longed to utter the words I've wanted to say.
Countless of times, these words I've spouted
In my heart I've said them oh so many more
These words are strong like a volcano just erupted
These words are true for they come from my core.
So I sit here still with these people around
They don't know why my heart aches so
It matters not if my feet don't touch the ground
I'd still dare to dream and to her they will go.
Dreams of you I'll never stop conjuring
Thoughts of you I'll never stop thinking
With words so sweet I'll never stop praising
For the woman in my dreams, my heart is loving.
So let me be, you people; you never will know
You'll never know who it is who excites my heart
You'll never understand what makes my love grow
She's the one who had ensnared me from the start.
Sep 2, 2014
Sep 2, 2014 at 4:54 AM UTC
With my blind eyes I seek.
A reason why all I see from what I cannot see,
fills my cup of feelings with enormity
A being that guides me to peoples souls,
in order for me to feel the ones I had the inability to see.
Living in this cipher...
I seek my blind eyes.
Nov 29, 2012
Nov 29, 2012 at 12:24 AM UTC
a passing balloon piece,
his, within in a message,
makes the imagery explode
with numerous contractions,
even confusions, and requires an
explaining explication and a fresh
application of sealant
men see the words ~ think war or football,
women think of the lyric, phrase in a sad
love ballad that means recall, and a
moistening tear drop that liquifies but doesn’t drop
but that word, pulverized, has an enormity
attached, that conjures destruction total,
s battlefield’s aftermath, tree stumps cut
down, synchronized with bodies in parts,
sole souls departing
without reasoning/justification
the lineage upon her face,
pulverized by sorrow and
no expectations for the morrow,
gaveled into existence,
by losses and carried
for a length of a term ill defined,
as “life”
with no hint of irony, for it’s not life
when it’s spent reminiscing remembering
the dismemberment of what was a
joy taken instantly and perpetually inexplicabe
the tragedies multicolored in black,
a solid stolid state that nary a meter,
talking centi’s here, pinch of breeze
and /or hurricane alters status quo,
both of us have long known that, but
we nonetheless pick up grains, single
alphabet scrambled pieces to put the
whole together again, but it’s a cause
hopeless cause we be
are
pulverized inside so
the chorded chore is
a double whammy
and still
and yet
we say
but,
for we cannot stop our fingers
from their appointed rounds
and we think in term not of hope
but a thought out louded,
the eternal question,
what if
we do not try?
Sep 30, 2024
Sep 30, 2024 at 10:18 AM UTC
Set sail on a clear day
at dawn, my love boat.
Facing the enormity of the seas
light waves, soft against the hull
pushing forward .
Coy observer,
of the seas that meet ,
bestowing their souls
to the ocean.
Reluctant, hesitant
shying away, blushing red
as she sees the ocean
now open his arms to her.
Took slow steps into the
fathomage of the ocean
showed her brazen self to him
And flew away the cloak
that bounded her screaming soul.
One ghastly day,
a storm broke through,
it broke the hearty ocean.
And went away all the seas,
leaving the boat deserted.
Waves got higher and stronger
hitting the stern every minute.
didn't topple, the love boat
the mast ,still saving her.
And days from then,
the boat still sailed,
in the wide wide ocean.
No island in sight, but
stood strong with waves
in its favor.
Sailing, just sailing, My Love Boat.
Mar 26, 2014
Mar 26, 2014 at 10:05 AM UTC
Wondering what I should write
and floundering in my own confusion
I thought – why not write about poems
that set me thinking what poems are
A poem could be anything.......!
at best, distilled thoughts put into rhyme
or a moment caught in time
a window glimpse into the world
an engrossing passion’s ardent curl
a snap shot of scenes from Nature- wild
or a slice of life, birth or death
sometimes it could be a yearning
or an image long hung on a pole
a thought turned inside out
or the emptying of a mind about to spill
it could be the liberation of a fancy,
for long held in thralldom
a gnawing pain, long suppressed
or a secret, never divulged
As I pondered over the subjects’ enormity
and a poem’s vast scope,
I asked myself- ‘Why hesitate?’
soon I felt a stir inside,
my thoughts broke loose
a terrible block lifted off my head
my silence became audible
I embroidered these thoughts
into the pattern of a poem
Here it is before you, have a look at it
Will it annoy you or will you enjoy!
May 5, 2017
May 5, 2017 at 8:20 AM UTC
Don't get mad.
Don't get mad.
Don't get mad.
Immaturity knows not what it says.
It doesn't realize.
It doesn't realize the enormity of being a drain on society.
It doesn't realize the hypocrisy
In criticizing me.
I'm the one with a job.
I'm the one with a home.
I'm not the one who's willing to drop mad cash
For a cyber unreality, used as
Avoidance behavior
For two days
And then thrown away.
Immaturity needs to grow up
And learn from me.
Not the other way around.
Jun 8, 2010
Jun 8, 2010 at 11:19 AM UTC
There comes a time when tyranny of numbers,
Evaporates into tyranny of idiosyncrasies,
Especially when the ethnic tyranny tyrannizes
Voice of reason the matrix of humane inclusivity,
When the malice in the enormity of clan numbers
Worships brutality of foolishness that purtains
In the group of the over sized ethnicity
To cement the tyrannical tomfoolery.
Jul 25, 2014
Jul 25, 2014 at 5:26 AM UTC
I am Jupiter storms
Unabounded by time
Raging on
And eons
Can not hope to confine me
To unstable matter
And mass
Rearranging
My molecules morphing
To liquefied jewels
And my surface
A canvas
Of unrefined fuels
Like an abstract mosaic
Of swirling
Unfurling
Tempests of archaic
As constellations
And the ages I've waited
And slumbered and spun
Into memories
Faded
And taken the names of your gods
As my payment
Inflating my ego's
Mesmeric rotations
So quick to claim hearts
Of Europa's amidst
My seductive, enchanting
Illusory bliss
Venture into my centrifuge
Fumy abyss
I have pressed up my lips
Of a frigid, wet steel
And then sealed
With a kiss
What ‘nary
A planetary
Can resist
And as she revolves
Around me
And gives life
Io dances about me,
Callisto my wife
Ganymede my seed
And the rest of my progeny breed
Future needs
What the Earthlings will need
To make up for their greed
All will see
Look to me
In my enormity
As my reservoirs
Fill them
With infinity
Mar 30, 2019
Mar 30, 2019 at 3:44 AM UTC
Inadequate to the task
Humbled by the enormity of our love,
The perfection of our joining,
Where are the words kept that sufficient
Honor and portray what we have achieved?
You seated, beside me by the bay, finally,
Two old adirondack trees side by side,
By the sheltered place you bequeathed me,
Where poems are raindrops, so numerous,
And you, if not the subject, the source.
The waves rolling in, mirror the
Fluidity of thy dancing,
Fluidity of the adaptation,
Two lives, now one bay blue colored,
The merging, the unification,
Many waves, but one bay,
The Bay of Us.
Yet so different.
We are cloud worshippers,
Does not the Skye's Tableau inconstancy,
Mirror our ever changing form, individuality,
Yet, one sky,
The Sky of Us.
So many times have I lain be-sided
Even as we this afternoon sit now a-sided,
Tears welling up, above and beyond control,
This man's steady nerves, constant on patrol,
Our secret open, visible, un-hided,
Your are my Magi
My Yogi,
i.am, your, obedient devotee, shaped to you please.
This is the birthday present my words present.
Words, unremarkable,
Except for the contentment
That lies within them.
Let me love you more,
Recklessly abandon norms,
Kiss you at the supermarket, at the opera,
Unashamedly, take you in my arms
Wherever wonderment and wandering lead us.
T'is so very hard to compose
When tears flow upon my writing tablet,
To wipe, blot them away, I refuse,
For tears are joyous emblems,
Salty badges of love,
All compliments of our complementary beings,
The Tears of Us.
The soaring music we gather in.
The shimmering sparkles upon the bay,
My gift of natural diamonds better, this day,
Than jeweled glitterati I hide in the refrigerator.
All this treasure, part and sparkle of
The Treasure of Us.
T'is truth,
I know not, forgot, your age nor care,
The day the time the year,
What matter they to me these artifice markers,
I weep carelessly, undone, overcome,
Every day, but this day, most, united joy.
Need-No reminder,
I am a survivor,
From a concentration camp
That slow programmed to destroy,
Perhaps the kindness you claim
As the hallmark of my fame,
An inadvertent gift, from the devil?
You shook my hand on our first meet,
Don't think, have I ever let go?
Let me be your driver, entertainer, your only poet,
Let me be whatever you need,
Even as now, I laugh-cry, your tissue carrier.
For t'is I who weeps and keeps
These tissues as part of our history.
You are the first,
Who has ever read
The Words of Us.
Sep 15, 2013
Sep 15, 2013 at 1:52 PM UTC
it's embarrassing but it's true.
i just googled "how to fall in love".
and i googled "how to fall in love" because i am not in love right now and i really, really want to be.
my google searchings were inconclusive and i am just as unsatisfied
mind, body, and spirit
as i was when i started typing "h" into the search bar
there is nothing in my heart right now.
my mother knocked and no one was home.
it makes me anxious:
how did i go from someone so overwhelmed by the enormity and ever-presence of her emotions
to someone so void of them that i feel an echo in my chest when someone says my name?
i've also googled sociopathy,
but apparently i'm not one of those.
so here i am, somewhere on a sliding scale
between all or nothing.
and i report from the field that it is not, in fact, all or nothing.
i know i'm not alone out here,
but it sure does feel like it,
when i reach out and even shadows don't reach back.
it's not like i've already accepted dying alone but it's not looking likely that i'll be marrying my college sweetheart, either.
i just want my feelings back.
is there a link to that in the first page of google results?
i'll even pay for shipping, i guess.
Nov 19, 2017
Nov 19, 2017 at 7:05 PM UTC
The Mendacity of Beauty, Marvels of the Mundane
<1/1/2023 10:38 PM>
commissioned by Pradip^
<>
A special carnet permits the day,
though day itself unremarkable,
permissioning of a thousand,
even, tens of ten thousand
grasping new love poems
all mundane, all marvelous
an aborning of odes re the
vastness of sea, sandy sky,
multifarious penumbras of hewn hues,
vibrantly diverse, still, requiring the
expanse and pretense of “new”
adjectives and metaphoric
in combos recalculating
precisely, it’s the enormity,
of the difficulty of verbal capture
upon tablet of these natural treasures,
once, more, yet again, but in somehow in a new-never
quite-before conceptional~postulation-realization
I sojourn amidst both man made and natural beauty,
provoking, invoking, a steady stream of potable knowledgeables, performing as a hand-written-thank-you-note for the grace, the imagination of their mishmash existences addressed only to
“whom it may truly concern…”
I’m eager to confess that the poetry inherent in the
mundane, requiring not-so-easy mining, a sales taxing
innovation to capture the subtlety of less visible flecks of gold, that present a rarer challenge to the poet’s senses where glory abides in pyrite pebbles strewn and trod upon by most indifferently,
*ah, write of the marvel of the mundane,
**** dare you!*
<>
^Pradip: “writing of the mundane is mandatory for me…”
Aug 12 2022
Jul 1, 2023
Jul 1, 2023 at 11:10 AM UTC
Hope is an oddity to me. It is a double-edged sword. Just enough keeps one going. Too much can leave one in despair.
Throughout my life I have struggled to sustain a suitable balance between hope and despair. The two seem to be interrelated for me.
There were days, even moments, where I had hope that my life would improve. I saw a way out, I found someone who seemed to care for me, I made it through an entire night unharmed... These things gave me hope. I was hopeful.
Then there were other days, even moments, where I was filled with despair. My hope was lost. My heart was sick. There was no way out, everywhere I turned I was met with hatred or disbelief, I was torn apart at night only to be met with "nothing happened" in the morning... These things destroyed my hope. I was hopeless.
My inner struggle between hope and despair kept me alive. I firmly believe this. This same struggle keeps me alive, even today. Too many times I have thought that there was no way out so I surrendered myself to dying. But over and over hope has surfaced.
So I fought. Sometimes I fought against hope. Sometimes I fought for it. It was a sickening cycle. Some days, even now, it is with a sick heart that I press forward.
Today it is with a sick heart that I write. The enormity of my past is weighing down upon me. Normalcy seems to be nothing more than a fleeting hope. One step forward, two steps back. Hope and then despair. My head is screaming once again. It seems that everyone want their say. Everyone wants to be heard. I am one and they are many. Today is a day where I am screaming at them to shut the **** up yet no one hears me. They drown me out and I feel powerless.
Today he is in every corner, no matter where I turn. He is smiling, licking his lips, and he is laughing at me. I tell myself that things are different now; things are better. He laughs harder. Despair is setting in and I am feeling myself surrender while keeping one eye slightly open on the off chance that hope is in another corner that I just can't see yet.
Today is despair with a sick heart. Perhaps tomorrow is hope paired with desire. One can always hope...
Aug 10, 2014
Aug 10, 2014 at 7:12 PM UTC
Vernal Equinox arrives,
a lush middle ground
fresh with turning,
on the fulcrum
of dark and light,
awakening dynamic gaian breath
and ambitious harmony.
Dancing in and out
of shadow,
darting into
waxing shine,
on the verge
of the continuous,
here at the thresholds fray,
off the precipice we go,
cliffs that drop into the burn
of the suns growing presence.
Fire moves into water
like flourish,
Water moves into fire
without extinguish.
The paradox of love
is alive,
with night and day
seen as equals.
In this colossus of rebirth,
the resurrection of winters death,
blooming out of earthen richness,
with the enormity of natures becoming.
On this brink of passions catching
in the Eastern sun rising,
with balance kept in the approach
of spring rains rolling in,
like tears of tender joy;
a drenching
and vaporous
arousal.
Mind is lost on winds of change
meandering amongst the grasses,
the feet hug the ground like roots,
the spine lifts like spontaneity,
bringing the heart to blossom
in it's ribcage branches,
pulsing aromatic swells
moving outwards
in veins of pranic rivers,
with gushing love,
turning the blood etheric
and unbound by the body,
in some natural suffusion
where earth and sky meet
in endless inter-change,
and all is complimentary here,
and everything is reaching,
to kiss the sky,
in gratitude.
Mar 20, 2014
Mar 20, 2014 at 10:18 PM UTC
<Sun May 14 5:00 AM PST>
Let us be smart about this departure,
time unscheduled, yet leaving inevitable,
the sound of fabric torn, a rent performed,
a ripping, a release of the gripping, connecting
tissue of weft and weave tying parent and child
*(All of us poets, all of us comprehend,
there are two points, two buttonholes
that offer escape or farewell, when we
commence on something new, when we
pen our chest’s demands to exhale, cease the hammering*
*Perhaps, here, just after the third stanza,
the brick enormity of our selected task, on chest,
weighs heavy, boulder difficulties ahead, now fastened
and faster and faster realized, begs us, quit this essay,
return to placid, from an arrhythmia of imploding loss)*
So many fabrics, so many tears, wet and dried,
but upon commencement, the only finish line,
is another commencement, when the (mine-own) rendering
is finalized, beyond repair, when guilt gulfs overflows, flooding
plains of forever pain officiated by signed scar, “here was”
So many separations, varied and variegated,
surficial shallow surgical or plunges, widths of trickle,
depths of deadly plunges, records of inches, dates,
names, new heights inscribed, measured on a door jamb,
lost, erased, when child’s door closes permanently
Came today to the West, to Pacific Ocean entrance,
to celebrate a good boy’s ritualized threshold crossing
over into manhood, both symbolic and and realized,
but tear-up seeing the small child-man leaning in and on
his father’s larger frame, a coinciding giving & taking
no bonds are eternal, for such is life, the weft must be
warped, sundered and separated, so many reasons,
experience speaks, scars are like bandages,protecting
but deceiving, what they cover can never be excised,
a space created, that only oxygen can touch both sides
but never, ever be reperfected, mended,…or finalized
2023
San Francisco
May 14, 2023
May 14, 2023 at 10:07 AM UTC
For Little One
June, 2012
I want to be a giant girl
with my hair caught in the clouds
and a bird resting on my nose
I want to be twice as small
as the fly resting on the wall
I
I want to watch small men
smoke pipes and sing to themselves
I want to grow too magnificent for the room
and push down the walls with my elbows
and use the chimney as a periscope
the sheer enormity
and when I dance
I want to fell the planetary divide
and taste the milky way
and wear saturn’s rings as jewelry
stars tangled in my braids
and i’d let humans walk across my shoulders
so that they could see the moon
and remember how it feels to be
small, childlike, wondering
and then things might be alright.
Jul 10, 2014
Jul 10, 2014 at 10:55 PM UTC
*The sand moved slightly as I stepped, welcoming me in its own world of enormity
The wind showed no signs of being meager and kissed me passionately
The sea merrily approached me as if to meet its beloved old friend.
I was experiencing the most beautiful communication of our mother earth.
Sitting alone on the beach and gazing at the boundless waters, I realized the beauty of this perpetual moment.
The cold breeze embraced me like its own child
The sand offered me its tender touch
And the waves whispered and giggled all the time
Time had stopped moving
There was vacuum in the winds,
Silence in the noise
And numbness in the touch
This was an unusual feeling.
A feeling unexpected and un-experienced
I was overwhelmed by the nature of our nature,
Absorbing everything from this vastly moment
Sitting motionless and stunned by the absolute tranquility
made me feel a part of the enormous expanse of this world
Lost in the limbo of space
Lost in the beauty of peace
Lost in the harmony of nature
Lost in the purity of time
Lost was I, in the serenity of life
I could see the inner me,
And hear my unsaid words
I could feel the flow through me
And the divine touch of love
I met a special friend that night
I met myself!
In this sanctum of space,
With the universe embracing me
I closed my eyes to sink in this moment for eternity
Tears welled up in the eyes
Overwhelmed by this feeling of infinity*
Sep 29, 2013
Sep 29, 2013 at 4:40 AM UTC
As he gazed on my face
I saw waves of emotion
rise and crash
in his deep almond eyes
and I became a river
hurtling down to join
the mighty current
When he whispered to me
honeyed words of passion
in the enormity of silence
I blossomed
into
a red tulip of love
As he played on the strings
of my heart’s violin
I got tuned
into an alluring symphony
When he held my palms
I evolved into
a beautiful painting
on a blank canvas
When he cupped my face
to stamp on my lips
the seal of love
I became
a flitting butterfly
When he lifted me up
in his arms
all the stars came down
to see the spark in my eyes
wondering if it outdid
their combined lustre
Dec 1, 2017
Dec 1, 2017 at 10:36 AM UTC
Who and Where in the World is Shaunna Harper?
A young poetess here at HP, a story teller, herein a Mashup, excerpts from her writings. Do not overlook her...
You hold your breath,
stagnant, absent
in the station,
trains grumbling about leaving
and about waiting,
people passing, chattering
about nothing
they are actually thinking about;
*** cheap wine, finances,
time, romances and of course,
the weather.
You stand on the platform
between two trains,
puffing fumes and
oil from its brains.
In your throat
somewhere
you mime the sounds
of a goodbye speech,
the silent, strained
words false even in
unspoken terms,
the ever-after of remorse,
the frailty of indecision.
I am somewhere either in the woods,
walking in the enormity of your shoes,
or in the water, making feeble shapes,
hoping to find you in the blue.
Not a child, ill with misfortune.
One of a kind, she dances
to her own gypsy tune,
free, enviable, fresh
to ears and eyes, not used,
like you or me,
or abused, immune to lies.
I am heading for a shock.
I am leaving home and arriving
only God knows where,
bags empty, head full,
and the place my roots took hold
is never going to look the same.
The win is not important,
only the playing of the game,
and the rules have been rewritten.
With every step covered,
I am someone else, somewhere else,
and only the disorientation remains.
I cannot make up my mind
from my dreams.
Chasing planes from buses
to cleaner places
better places
leaner places
the brittle, broken
fingernails chewed
to fray the anxiety.
America, I’m on my way.
Bury me in your deserts,
throw me to your cities
let my future do what it will
in its own sweet time.
Give me my fury.
Keep me swinging.
Sep 14, 2013
Sep 14, 2013 at 5:52 PM UTC
So much locked within bubbling at the surface
Pinholes of strain attempt to release pressure
Its immensity can't be touched by a million such holes
Desire to discard the cloak grows with every breath
But the fear of being unveiled and naked prevents it
As the molehills burn and the fires are extinguished
Mountains emerge in silence, born of the forgotten ashes
Smoldering embers give rise to the unfathomable
Gargantuan by comparison and seemingly unstoppable
Can such enormity be reigned in,
Or will trying be a harsh lesson in futility?
Never give up or knowing when to do so
Holding tightly or letting go
To analyze or forget
No clear cut paths in the forest of self-destruction
May 23, 2010
May 23, 2010 at 7:40 PM UTC
From birth children are told that love is bowing before an almighty god.
Bowing before their parents, priests, and teachers. Instilled with fear
of going to a fiery hell unless they believe what is laid out before them.
Is it a wonder how our world has turned out?
Tell me a truth I cannot challenge. Can you do it?
Well, with me, no. I will question and challenge everything.
It is with my curiosity that I take in the beauty of life, it is with this
curiosity that my perception changes from a fearful child to
an empowered, hopeful, and critical thinking adult.
I have not turned to science, but is more solace found there?
Scientists are not looked upon with fear the way gods are.
Scientists tell us of the enormity of the universe, how we connect
to it and are already a part of it. Instead of handing us impending
apocalypses, it hands us a galaxy that can support life for 30 billion more years.
So why not turn to science?
Because, once science told us the earth was flat.
Challenge your world.
Never stop asking questions.
Take not religion as your decider.
Take not science as your crutch.
Sit in silence and use what you find
within yourself to judge and perceive
this life. Here you will find freedom.
Here you will find personal truth.
Jul 30, 2012
Jul 30, 2012 at 2:28 AM UTC
Eleven dead; six injured.
How does a person try to explain
The enormity of such a crime--
The inexplicable loss, the pain?
All were shot at a place of worship--
At a synagogue in Pittsburgh, P-A,
On what began as a peaceful morning
On a late October Sabbath day.
Early that morning no one could have
Imagined the horror the day would bring,
Even though we live in a time
When hatred seems to be in full swing.
It takes only ONE hater
To change the course of many lives
In a country where underneath
The peaceful appearance, violence thrives.
The president says that armed guards
Are what we need and not tougher laws.
He bows before the gun lobby,
Addressing the symptoms, but not the cause.
Helping refugees get settled:
For that the synagogue is known.
That was an issue that irked the killer,
Who was from here. Yes, homegrown!
Do we ignore red flag warnings
And turn our heads when someone spews
Hatred of groups such as Muslims,
Asylum seekers, gays, or Jews?
Do we ignore the poisonous words
That constantly drip down from the top?
At what point do the majority
Of people say: This must stop!
Give praise to those who strive for positive
Change with every heartfelt endeavor.
And hold in your heart the many people
Whose lives have now been changed forever.
_____________________
May the victims' lives inspire us all by showing us the power of love,
and may they rest in peace.
Joyce Fienberg
Richard Gottfried
Rose Mallinger
Jerry Rabinowitz
Cecil Rosenthal
David Rosenthal
Bernice Simon
Sylvan Simon
Daniel Stein
Melvin Wax
Irving Younger
And may thoughts of love and healing embrace the injured.
-by Bob B (10-28-18)
Oct 28, 2018
Oct 28, 2018 at 3:45 PM UTC