Archive for the 'death' Category

26
Feb
17

Empathy: defined?


Image result for empathy

 

Recent developments of a family nature have exposed me to a foreign experience, until now: the depth of hostility expressed and anxiety imposed upon an ailing, dying Father by his only and seemingly heartless Son.

What has materialized from this experience is clarity, from my perspective, of the true meaning of Empathy.

Empathy: what the non-suffering need feel for the suffering.

In the broader scope of human experience: it is the sufferance of the suffering for the non-suffering to suffer to realize the true meaning of Empathy.

 

01
Feb
17

Last Human Standing


 

world divide

This poem, originally written back in 2012 in response to social and geopolitical issues occurring at that tumultuous time, upon review, seems more appropriate to the current state of world affairs with the inauguration of the 45th President Donald J. Trump. 

Unlike the fears garnered when the poem was first written; what seems poised on the horizon to erupt, due to increased nationalism not only in the United States but across Western Europe, should instill a true sense foreboding reminiscent of the pre-World War II era.

Unfortunately, humanity once again appears to fall victim to the machinations of the pathological designs of true power: 

Last Human Standing

Falling deeper into the abyss of our making
This life on Earth seems forsaken
Though remedy of solution viably in-hand
But ignored, for reasons becoming clearer to understand

Global power held by the unseen elite
Are determined to manifest humanity’s defeat
They will not rest until their destructive plan is complete
Instigated with common people fighting each other in the street

Economic collapse is their efficient tool to instigate
Knowing empty belles’ are much easier to infuriate
Whilst poised in their ivory towers left to masturbate
While goon-squad militarized police, the uprisings, mitigate

It would take a fool’s mind not to see what is happening
The civilized structure of the last hundred years is set for collapsing
Then by their design a New Order for civilization is ready for hatching
To render a commoner’s life to impoverishment by servitude, ever-lasting

These are not words to echo the cry of humanity’s impending defeat
It is a call to recognize what is about to come and its receipt
Demanding if it is to happen – common people take their stand on the street
Poised ready to fight until the last Human standing on their feet

 

If this poem resonates with you please explore others written in the same vain as well, several poems of a more entertaining and humorous note. Thank you.

Please feel free, too, to let me know what you think by dropping me your comments to:

naykdpoet@outlook.com

05
Jan
17

When?


 

clock

When?

The beauty of Moon’s brilliant light reflecting on the still water of the harbor cove betrays the anguish felt deep inside as I sit gazing upward at the dark night sky filled to abundance with the flickering light of constellation’s stars.

Absorbed by the wonderment of nature’s paint I seek to find answers to questions’ manifest, reasons for humanity’s self-inflicted pain, dispensed with the hypocrisy of remorse.

The defilement of life’s abundant values given without price; expended as though worthless: life, taking life.

What virus of evil did mutate into the genetic of humanity to give rise to its indiscriminate ability to espouse hatred by voice and physical action?  An evil so dark as to seemingly expunge the full essence of Love from the spirit soul given to all with birth into a world of unquestioning beauty and abundance to be had.  What wayward action was it that led it to traverse our planet without impediment or impunity to find permanence of residence in all, yet diverse, cultures?

Were an alien intelligence to look upon the dualistic actions of this earth’s inhabitants it would assuredly too, be left to wonder the root cause(s) for this profane condition.  Like a child spoiled to indifference to the riches unquestioningly given it without want for reciprocation but to appreciate the inherent value of its worth and, to cherish the opportunity for its giving.

How long can this insidious profanity be allowed to continue without an ultimate price to be paid, to render a final solution that will fully purge the disease sickness that holds to the genetic roots of humanity and its progeny of generations to come? To allow the full goodness of the Soul’s spirit of love that freely resides in all at birth, to flourish and expand in the course of life’s given journey before entering the next realm of energy’s domain.

 When?

02
Jan
17

What A Mess


eagle

Reviewing my library of poems written over the past several years it is astonishing how they unequivocally relate to our current times. The irony, I would presume, lies in the knowledge that the poem was written reflecting upon issues of the time; 2009 to be exact, yet readily still apply to conditions unfolding today. Thus giving credence to the conclusion offered at the end of this poem. 

What A Mess

Have I finally succumb?  After years of exploring, investigating, researching, what ever you want to call it, of all things political, religious, sociological, economic, scientific, metaphysical, paranormal, etc, etc, I have come to a conclusion: WE ARE FUCKED!

Since time began humanity has been on the climatic path to a calamitous end it has long anticipated yet has been cultivated to lack the innate intelligence to fully recognize its presence when it inevitably stares them in the proverbial face.

A proliferation of differing perspectives on everything from the origins of our presence on this planet to the question of whether our reality is, in fact, REAL!  And a more pervasive confluence of idea relates to the prospects of our future, continued existence.

A distracting spectrum of opinions as to our future existence has developed incorporating ideas ranging from annihilation due to planetary bodies colliding with Earth in 2012 to global pandemics brought on by drug-resistant strains of bacteria to succumbing to dominance by interstellar beings with mind controlling powers.

Now to complicate the stress all these uncertainties are inflicting upon humanity there is the looming doom, the gloom, and foreboding of a global financial crisis to which a significant part of the industrialized world’s population has no idea of how to survive.  The cultivated dependence on a collapsing infrastructure of social safety nets and social support systems will only lead to further chaos and strife.

The advent of the Internet has spawned a myriad of rationalization of truth to causes and effect and the avocation to their solution for survival against the countless sources to the demise of humanity and modern civilization as have developed to date, only adds to the confusion and chaos that is permeating the world

The conditions are ripe for self proclaimed guru’s, prophets and other like-minded personalities to advocate their solution(s) to these real and perceived problems to rise up to take advantage of the thousands of souls that have been coddled in the delusion of being `cared for’ or the belief – faith in divinity that will conquer all man-made hardship.

Frankly, were there to exist a RESTART BUTTON that would absolve this planet of this corrupt humanity that has evolved upon it – NOW would be the time for that BIG FINGER in the sky to just PUSH IT!

02
Jan
17

Etched To The Bone


 

WSH_SM4C

Surprising, this poem, written back in 2008, finds a fitting place reflecting the current day’s experience; the unfolding of events that speak to a darker time that, potentially, lies ahead for all humanity and its implication for generations that are yet to follow:

Etched To The Bone

My mind spins

From the chaos echoing

From the choir

Disaster of faith

In the fabric of mankind

Can the deluge

Grow even higher?

 

When will it stop?

When will the end begin?

The pain that I am feeling

Is in need of a pill that can win.

 

Factions in every corner

Spewing the ill

Of the coming way

Offering nothing in return

But explaining

How we will righteously pay

 

Bleed for the children

For they know not

What it is

Tomorrow’s growing darkness

Is the inheritance to be given?

What in the morning

Will they say?

 

Oh what sadness

Is being etched into the bone

For generations to come

This ailing condition

Will call it: home!

11
Nov
16

Proclivity


 

proclivity

Locked away in the mind’s darkness cave,
Left to manifest thoughts outwardly brave
Though, when spoken, the conflicted do rave;
Challenging wisdom’s retreat, to save.

History’s pattern unwittingly resolves
Into depths of forgetfulness to dissolve;
Leaving pain and suffering itself to solve;
To once again, like a clock wound, revolve.

Human nature, a questionable ally or foe,
An intuitiveness’ retarded flow,
A once thought `truth’, to bind and know
Yet, it’s truth’s blindness that does grow.

Giving reason to this proclivity to discern;
Having spent millennia endeavoring to learn
Yet, humankind, seemingly, more resolute to spurn
And, for it; civilization, as in past, does ultimately burn.

11
Nov
16

Rememberance 2016


The following poem I wrote back in 2012 to acknowledge on this day November 11th, the fallen; those who gave of themselves in service to the freedoms we enjoy to this day, however, as much as it is said in tribute, it is meant to reflect the brutal waste of lives given to the folly of those to whom we choose to lead us; those often, whom avoid the true hardships they wittingly impose on the Peoples of their Nation. 

poppy1

Remembrance?

We hail courageous heroes of war; but for whom is the true enemy at bastion door; for each nation’s fallen soldier is a heart made sore; and to whom do the real gains amass, while the bereaved tally the deathly score?

___________________________________

To be of common purpose in mind; is not to be to true reasons blind; for the failings within humankind; for the atrocities inflicted upon its own kind; appeased by pageant and ceremony to remind; but in truth’s end, to repetition, it is endlessly inclined.

___________________________________

Spilling mental guts upon the literary floor; thousands pass but simply ignore, for their lack of interest to what may touch their shore; yet find the time to whisper ridicule and messenger to deplore; yielding incessant ignorance to reason, to endure.




Recent Posts

Categories


%d bloggers like this: