J.F.K
R.F.K
M.L.K
9-11
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You Can(’t) Handle the TRUTH!
Firstly, no disrespect toward those poor and brave people whom chose to purchase from the reigning governance of the time, a ticket to battle-conflict taking place in some other part of the world other than Canada. Sold on the conviction that such action would save the conflict from spilling over to our shores by the perceived enemy of the day.
On the face of it Remembrance Day is a noble and unselfish recognition of those whom gave their life or were seriously harmed, in the course of duty on behalf of the nation for which they served however, the hypocrisy from a national perspective, lies in the simple fact that such an auspicious and solemn day to remember is not given to a national holiday.
By comparison, the federal government deems Banks important and significant enough to the interests of the nation, to decree a national holiday the first day of August of the year. Do not the men and women of the military service warrant equally, a day of national day of mourning?
One possible simple reason: were such a day so decreed most would likely spend it visiting the local mall for the Remembrance Day Sale, not for what it rightly deserves obviously. More likely, because commercial interests realized early there were few respectful ways to take advantage of the free time; so why give people the day off.
The above is definitely a cynical view expressed from an underlying sentiment: all conflicts of war initiated by those whom are least likely to find themselves on the battlefield; put to a command of those whom are cultivated and desperate for opportunity to display their prowess and ability; and then, put upon the shoulders of common men and women to make the ultimate sacrifice and their families, who are left to suffer the pain of such loss.
This cynicism is further fueled by the purported cost-saving policy of the Canadian federal government to retire service people months short of qualifying for full pension following ten years of military service. Now that is something worth mournful remembrance.
Huddled safely cocooned in a shell of my making
Hidden from the scourge of pervasive darkness
Protected from the blithe that meanders wantonly
Free of the wrath that burdens most
Unencumbered by the toils of daily life
Relinquished to the joy of self-fulfillment
Purchased from the pain of self-affliction
Comatose to the idleness of mind
Pursuant to retention of spirit
Intolerant to the voice of the righteous
Unforgiving to the purveyors of strife
Strengthened by knowledge of awareness
Unburdened by need for reward
Striving for reciprocity in mind
Traversing the next threshold of time-phase passage
Lives of untold many stand to be impacted
Human talents once sought and justly rewarded
Find their advances suddenly thwarted
Marvels of invented advances decompose as dump-site fodder
Fading into obliviousness of civilized history’s record blotter
All that comes to live charts a reality, digestive cycle
First, the joy elation of emotion to a new arrival
Exuberance expressed over its achievement gains
Then, complacency, its presence a struggle for survival
As its reason of purpose increasingly wanes
Thereafter, forever lost, forgotten, to remain.
Infinitely Unfolding Reality
The dream-presence state, creation of the unconscious mind, a reflection of consciousness’ experience; if regarded as a true reality of presence or experience of consciousness, it too is creator of yet another level of unconscious’ dream presence; a reflection of its consciousness’ experience to yet another dream presence; the process being repeated into infinite layers of consciousness’ reality. Hence the expression `as above, so below’ is given.
Exiting a life-period humorously referenced a `sobaticle’, to embark the next and definitely, last phase of a life journey; this reflection inspired the following:
Life Remaining
Riding the crest of happiness’ wave
Washed ashore from a sea of self-inflicted turbulence
Rendered to a promise land of bliss and reward
Buttressed by the strength of goodness to achieve.
Reclusive solitude transformed to energy gain
Yielding abundance to new resource expenditure
Toward dreams’ formative realization
Resilient to imposed limitations to confidence.
Surrounded and imbued by echoes to a past
Filtered remnants of experienced passage of time
Reflections of the best of life moments lived
To render reclamation of emotional elation.
What promise this remaining life will favor
Is given only to limitations of the Mind to achieve
For the binds of restriction are forever torn
Anchored in the truth this realization is believed.
Ghost like, dark mist cloud of evil slither unseen through sky of goodness’ light with sinister deed to ensue, malevolently executing its providence of domain to refute that which is preached to be said, its wonderment of resolve is sanctioned unto the being who sees to this truth of beginning yet not fulfillled by the challenge that doth make known too, its presence unto the seeing Being.
Cloud of goodness that envelopes each living soul being is the challenge to sustain; for within each is the whisper of evil yet contained but, wanting and piercing to be fulfilled in the full goodness of the the glory it seeks to domain.
The harmony of balance is the Soul’s journey given to sustain giving providence of the domain to the goodness of light
Ghost like, dark mist cloud of evil slither unseen through sky of goodness’ light with sinister deed to ensue, malevolently executing its providence of domain to refute that which is preached to be said, its wonderment of resolve is sanctioned unto the being who sees to this truth of beginning yet not fulfillled by the challenge that doth make known too, its presence unto the seeing Being.
Cloud of goodness that envelopes each living soul being is the challenge to sustain; for within each is the whisper of evil yet contained but, wanting and piercing to be fulfilled in the full goodness of the the glory it seeks to domain.
The harmony of balance is the Soul’s journey given to sustain giving providence of the domain to the goodness of light
I wrote this contemplation some-time ago but, in the course of readying for a move I came across it and thought to post:
Paradox to Existence – The Stroke of Death
In contemplation of the last and final moment of life,
As the last breath escapes past parted lips,
What thought will consume a brain dying?
Will it be:
Speculation of that final event,
Parallels the speculation to what follows.
To experience is to know – then it is too late,
To communicate!
Another Paradox to Existence.
naykdpoet 