As we enter to what is essentially the last phase of our Chromosomal-telomere quota of flesh-blood existence [excluding prematurely succumbing to freaks of nature {full spectrum inclusion of non-human}& human intervention {accident or otherwise}] one might contemplate, more so maybe than otherwise, but contemplate past, present, and future [emphasis on the `future’ contemplation] rendering such thoughts as the following: WARNING: this is not as morbid as the illustration suggests
Withering and dying, this body slowly degenerating to its ultimate demise, to for-ever be lost to this world, that evidence of its presence to future generations knowing, be forever obliterated as to not have existed at all. If into Nothing our Being ultimately goes, for what reason does it exist in the first place? What Legacy proof be created to harvest a permanence of presence on this evolving, revolving planet Earth? Does the answer lie in the presence of the Cemetery wherein fields of granite, limestone, and other material of aging permanence serve as concrete evidence, witness proof to the Lives that once held prominence and footing on the hallow ground to this perceived existence? That only by Death’s relinquishing of the captured Soul, Life’s energy force fueling existence, does Truth to a Knowing, ultimately become solved. Or does the answer ultimately lie elsewhere; beyond this reality’s need for comprehension?
As one who has spent many hours of his life infused with the need to express what is felt, seen, and heard; to acknowledge a young, inspiring Poet Amanda Gorman [https://youtu.be/FpR7iELvVrI]: to give poetry its place to affectively communicate in so many words, the hearts, minds, and consciousness of the many; gave inspiration to the following in tribute to her glorious achievement(s):
To Be Heard
To write a Poem, is not just words;
It is an individual’s feelings, felt to be heard.
To those whom encounter such a poem;
Know, its meaning is to find an emotional home.
Inspiration, often from the most innocuous place,
Can stimulate a composition of wisdom, hope and grace.
So, understanding that a Poem is more than just words;
Let its next encounter give cause for its meaning to be truly heard.
It’s been a while since motivated to put random thoughts to reality’s gain; but, so goes this day:
Nights Spent:
Like roaches that feed in the void of light; hiding their machinations from morality’s sight; to garner the lust of debauchery’s delight; filled with feelings contrite; displacing rancor with blithe; to find refuge in other’s fright, so go the hours spent by night.
Field of Dreams:
Blazoned upon open fields of trails; foot passages that hide deviant tales; trodden by exploits where wanton lust prevails; greed for pleasure hard to curtail; a place, ethical prohibitions are destined to fail.
Bathhouse:
Through dim-lite corridors, naked men parade; each lost to their own charade; to orgasm of pleasure, they’ve become the slave; for it, their moral soul to trade; open doors, engorged lust wantonly displayed; stale sweat, spent cum pervade; pheromonal triggers waff and cascade; driven to frenzy, driven to engage.
Creative Block:
Cloistered in a humble room of mindless imagination; spawned from germ of discontent; survived by the fruit of constant failure; striving toward ill-conceived ambitions; thwarted by the causation of reason; hopeless to gains of promise; foments realization to threat of survival.
Book:
Brandishing tool of eloquence; striving to be creative and communicative of mind, thought toward their realization of meaning; embodied in time, the measured vehicle of distributed reason; unencumbered by resistance of ridicule; saved for perpetual salvation of archival history.
Comments Are Much Appreciate: (consider them a author’s reward)
Insignificant are these words that fill this page fore they render nothing more than a stain. Stain markings as feelings, thoughts, ideas of less importance, impact upon the direction, course evolution takes toward an end. Contrivance of communication subject to seeing by blind eyes, being heard through deaf ears, never to be spoken. The encumbrance of thought compiled line by line, expelled to satisfy each moment toward their meaningless, meaning or purpose. Collected, bound, volumes comprehensively fomenting artificiality of presence recognized, though invisible, amidst the masses of trite representation to the same. Succumbing to be buried, lost to chance to be forgotten, dormant upon the ageless shelf of lessor importance. Energy expended without reward of return, fading to darkness: The End.
 This Requiem ofSpirit: Creative Mind, lost of its meaning to gain furtherance to expression brought to the Conscious that grave for its experience be brought, by reading minds’ imagination. Allowing for the Ether, Heart of Soul, be brought tangibly to Life, through the senses expunging, from each taste, stain of Word: What it is to BE!
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.
Are the roots of my behavior anchored in the thought of not knowing the ancestry to my beginning, lost to the passage of time, expunged forever from the frail, failing minds of those who preceded this presence?
That I should walk blindly into the unknown struggling to gain handle-hold of the truth that will propel me forward unimpeded; rendering concrete proof to this troubled passage steeped in the evidence of success?
That a modicum of recognition edges its way beyond the shadow of the spotlight’s beam diligently focused upon they who are deemed to warrant the energy?
Are these the asking of one selfishly deprived; looking, striving to be realized in the flesh of this time; a time that is ticking ever faster toward its end unresolved to the want emblemized by these words spoken?
Or am I just feeling the anc’s of the coming anniversary of my birth’s birthday?
All comes from Nothing (Future) What IS, is the expression of Future as Present What Was, memory, lies in the Past
To illustrate, take this digital page: it is designed, created, configured, etc., by the software utilized to configure it into the Present by a design engineer, synonymous to the unknown origin of this Reality, a mythical entity as far as concerned. The program application, within a designed environment (computer) of specific electromagnetic and resonant frequencies applied to a binary polarity, represented as zero’s and one’s, produces the reality of the digital page. It is irrelevant to know or comprehend the programming essential to its existence, it is just taken for granted.
What this simple example illustrates is that Reality, premised on specific mathematical laws and physical principles, disseminated for purposes of comprehension into the different departments of science (physics, astronomy, medicine, etc., etc.,) simply are the product of digital binary code or polarity (negative: 0, positive: 1), so configured by the influences of electromagnetic and harmonic resonant frequencies to the binary polarity, into patterns of reality, Reality as comprehended.
This is duly illustrated by placing a thin, bed of sand particles upon a flat surface exposed to a variant range of vibrational frequency. Each amplitude of frequency results in a unique, 2-dimensional, geometric configuration pattern of the sand particles. Now, if each grain of sand were of an alternate polarity (negative–0, positive-1), exposed to a unique vibrational resonant frequency, within a specific electromagnetic environment, potentially, a unique, 3-dimensional representation should develop.
This hypothetical reasoning is promised by the scientific establishing that specific binary code structure (programming) resides at the foundation of DNA (Deoxyribonucleic Acid) sequences of the Human genome.
With this basis of understanding, it is not too difficult to postulate the existence of a multitude of realities within the multitude of variations of resonant frequencies and fluctuations of electromagnetic environments (gravity) that comprises what is known as the Universe. In much the same way as flipping  to a new frequency on a radio dial will result in a new program station is derived.
Ultimately, the true determination of `What is Reality?’ will be discovered, however, the key to doing so is to look for the simplicity in the complexity of Nature, therein lies the Key!
[i] “Strait is the gate, and narrow is the way … and few there be that find it.” When a modern religion forgets this saying, it is suffering from an atavistic relapse into primitive barbarism. It is appealing to the psychology of the herd, away from the intuitions of the few. Religion in the Making  A Series of Four Lectures delivered during February 1926, at the King’s Chapel, Boston, USA by Alfred North Whitehead
If you find it difficult to understand the foregoing, here is a video of a young person, 13 years old, who fully comprehends the basis of Reality:
 From the perspective of Mathematicians: Check out this Video as an aid to understanding, however, with one proviso: watch, listen to what is stated with the perspective of hindsight. That is, Reality, as being experienced,  comes after-the-fact of its happening. Reality resides, on a time-scale, a nano-moment of time AFTER, its being shaped by the forces of Nature influencing its existence. This explains why the laws of Nature are consistent throughout the known Universe AS WE PERCEIVE IT TO BE within our CONSTRAINTS of OUR Reality.
The question of creating a rendering composed of different works, some sourced from the Internet, while others originating from one’s own library of photos, graphics, etc..
Can the result be deemed original or potentially, copyright infringement for those elements sourced from the public domain?
For instance;Â this is the result of just such a manipulation:
The base image is one found on the Internet using the search phrase:Â scary landscapes,
Then adding an element taken from an original photo:
Then utilizing a photo-editing software, add a few elements such as an eery moon and some flash lightening for dramatic effect, finish the rendering  with essentially a different story being told from the base image.
Why is the REAL world hidden from view?
Is there TRULY something to hide from me and you?
Science-fictional tales attempt to undo,
What most have come to believe is to be true:
That alternate worlds reside beyond this earthly existence!
Unfortunately, with the wrong people controlling, with resistance,
Guarding centuries-old secrets with deathly persistence,
Demanding Common People to stand up with insistence:
For the vale of futile secrecy for once be lifted,
Exposing the nature of what secret knowledge has been gifted,
So humanity can for once gain from what has already been enlisted
And, to recognize Ex-terrestrials and Terrestrials have and for-ever, co-existed!
![IMG_20161005_121148821[1].jpg](https://naykdpoet.files.wordpress.com/2016/10/img_20161005_1211488211.jpg)
naykdpoet 
Thoughts De jour
Tags: art, books, commentary, computer, content, fun, Internet, life, relationships
Nights Spent:
Like roaches that feed in the void of light; hiding their machinations from morality’s sight; to garner the lust of debauchery’s delight; filled with feelings contrite; displacing rancor with blithe; to find refuge in other’s fright, so go the hours spent by night.
Field of Dreams:
Blazoned upon open fields of trails; foot passages that hide deviant tales; trodden by exploits where wanton lust prevails; greed for pleasure hard to curtail; a place, ethical prohibitions are destined to fail.
Bathhouse:
Through dim-lite corridors, naked men parade; each lost to their own charade; to orgasm of pleasure, they’ve become the slave; for it, their moral soul to trade; open doors, engorged lust wantonly displayed; stale sweat, spent cum pervade; pheromonal triggers waff and cascade; driven to frenzy, driven to engage.
Creative Block:
Cloistered in a humble room of mindless imagination; spawned from germ of discontent; survived by the fruit of constant failure; striving toward ill-conceived ambitions; thwarted by the causation of reason; hopeless to gains of promise; foments realization to threat of survival.
Book:
Brandishing tool of eloquence; striving to be creative and communicative of mind, thought toward their realization of meaning; embodied in time, the measured vehicle of distributed reason; unencumbered by resistance of ridicule; saved for perpetual salvation of archival history.
Comments Are Much Appreciate: (consider them a author’s reward)
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