Poetry and Random Thoughts 073017/0608


There is a difference, I think, from the common to the uncommon. Yet, in many cases they appear side by side as twins. Just a subtle difference here or there can determine the difference that you and I cannot perceive on the surface. But isn’t that the problem? Isn’t it how we perceive what we consider to be4 reality?

I have, since early childhood, wondered how you and I see color. A teacher points at a chart and says, “That is blue.” Really? Think about this for a moment. The teacher has an assigned role to play and relies upon her belief and understanding of common versus uncommon. And yet, how do we know if her understanding is correct?

If she says that the object she is pointing to is blue you record that in your mind as being blue. But what if her perception of blue is more tinted with green in your mind. So every time you look at item that in your mind has green in it or perceive it as such then when called upon to point at blue in a test you we pointing at something which in your mind is blue and yet in reality is blue-green  to her but she perceives it as blue because she sees everything put before her as blue being blue and yet her mind approaches the color she sees as being blue-green.

I mean, seriously, how can we come to the belief that what you see versus what I see is actually correct.

In another example, I just fell asleep while sitting here and dreamt I was at a seminar. The hotel that we were staying at was very nice and had a very large swimming pool. Everyone was swimming and so I decided to join in. I just now realized that I was the only one in the swimming pool that was naked but neither I nor anyone else recognized that fact until in my mind I just now realized that I was naked. The reason is because I remembered that in my dream I did not have any swimming suit with me. But in my mistaken reality I and everyone there had a swimming suit on. So, if by chance, you happen to go swimming the question then becomes are you wearing a swimming suit or are you naked.

So, I guess, the real question is quite simply: what is reality?

 

 

Followers 7/3/15: Miller Happy3, Marc Kutyloski, Fosterthepodcast


A few new followers:

http://en.gravatar.com/millerhappy3    http://millerhappy3.com/  Well, he is a writer. He has several “chapters” displayed on his site and a number of other bloggers had “liked” them. Your turn to go and look.

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http://wheatorweeds.com/about/          http://wheatorweeds.com/2015/05/07/spirituality-vs-religion/

Marc writes: My good friend Joey once told me, “Religion is for people who don’t want to go to hell and spirituality is for people who have already been to hell and don’t want to go back.”

You know something? I like that. However, and this is not a criticism, but for some this might be a bit too rich in religion. Just sayin’. I like the site. I think it is an honest site and worth visiting.

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https://fosterthepodcast.wordpress.com/about-2/   A comedian. Okay, Never had a comedian following me. Justin Foster and Kristie Marie have weekly events that sound really like a lot of fun. Drunken Samurai fights? Really? Missing Kidneys? Looks like a fun place.  I’m going!

https://itunes.apple.com/us/podcast/foster-the-podcast/id613983475?mt=2

Revelation Project 316


If you are seeking a religious experience, I would like to suggest that you visit the following site:

http://revelationproject316.wordpress.com/2014/12/16/introduction/

I think having a spiritual relationship with the creative forces that surround us at all times is important to us for a variety of reasons. Yet, I know that there are some of you who will grow cold at seeing this and even colder at visiting her site. But I think you are missing out on something much broader and more important than you would give credit to. In any event, I am not here to teach, preach, or annoy. I am here to share and share I shall.

RAGS BY THE DOOR


Rags by the Door
Copyright 2013 Gordon Kuhn
Poet in the Rain, All rights reserved.

It’s fucking 3 AM!
I growl at it
—I growl at him,
There,
There, the reflection by the door.
I should be in bed!

I should be in bed, but I’m not.
I’m not!
Instead—
I’m drinking beer,
At a solitary party.
And it’s fucking 3 AM!

What would they say,
If they would know?
What would they think?
That the injury is so thin?
And yet they cannot even see,
The shadow by the door,
The bundle of rags,
Left by me years before,
Left in a pile,
Added to each day.
Just inside the door.
The injury is so much more.
The injury is so damn much more.

Over there,
Beside the door.
It rises up,
And speaks its mind
Once more.
Its rush is to remind,
To drive the dagger of memory
Deeper cut than before.

Don’t tell me to hush!
I‘ll tell you in a rush.
Just who the hell are you?
To speak to me from way back when.

Give me a piece of cheese.
Give me my bottle standing there.
Don’t you dare judge me.
If you please.
If I please.
I’ll drink it down
In a gulp.
It’s fucking 3 AM.

The beggar lays there,
Lays there near the door.
All crumpled, he lays upon the floor,
And wants me to comply with his wish
To visit spaces known to him,
Known to him and thought I so very dim
In my mental category of time and dates
Known to him, but lived by me.
And it’s fucking 3 AM.
And I rail at him.
And I rail at me.
And I drink my beer
And it’s fucking 3 AM.

And thus clouds fell upon the mind
To straight up fog the evil from design
The melancholy from repentance fled
And acted as if the soul were dead.

Twice spoke the prophets to the crowds
Twice came the loud resound
And there and then the prophets died
And there and then all were denied.

God Went for a Walk.


GOD WENT FOR A WALK
Copyright 2013 Gordon Kuhn
All rights Reserved

I woke to hear a rooster throw
Its head back to announce
The coming of the dawning day
Before a hungry cat did sudden pounce
And ran off all the silly school children
Who squealing terror passed me by
Who had ventured out with games to play
But could not stand to watch the rooster die
Nor understand as nature went her natural way
And watching wondered then I about it all
What place within this lack of walls
Should shelter me from asking then
For certain someone told me way back when
I thought it odd with all so very wrong
That God should simply take a walk
And fail to ask me to come along. June 19, 2013

The Problem with Fridays.


It’s now 1448 and I’ve washed one dog, took one hour nap, carried out the garbage, talked to the neighbor Karen who told me today is Good Friday. I have to say I didn’t know there was a bad Friday unless, of course, you consider Friday the 13th as being a Bad Friday and if you do then why don’t we call it such as it is instead of so many words …. three against one. I think this is more politically correct to have a sameness instead of making the one with a longer description than the other. Don’t you agree with me?

Then we have the problem of more Friday the 13ths occurring than Good Fridays. We simply cannot allow one to outnumber the other. We also have a Church problem here as Good Friday is a Church day and Friday the 13th is considered not but the reality is that it is.

Friday the 13th is a Church day, which of course horrifies Atheists because …. because …. it simply does. I think it has something to do with the movie by the same name.

If you don’t believe me then research it. Now, of course, we now have another problem with that: separation of Church and State and then there is the atheist thing.

Alright, so let’s look at the problem of separation of Church and State. Well, in France (recall that is where the origin of Friday the 13th occurred) you have the problem that it was a government policy of killing off a religious order that started the whole thing, So, how can separate that? You can’t. You can ignore it but you can’t separate it. If you choose to ignore it than you stand the possibility of forgetting history and if you forget history than you are doomed to repeat it. See the problem here?

Now, let’s address the atheist problem. The atheists that I have met will take the day off if it happens to be in their employer’s position to allow the day, Good Friday, to be off. But while off they will criticize the fact that Good Friday is in existence and that it should not be because it is a religious holiday and how dare the damn Christians have a holiday name Good in the first place. But, and this is the important part, Atheists like Friday the 13th, most do because it makes them happy that the King of France was out killing monks and monks we all know are perverts (well some are but a lot of atheists are also and so you don’t hear the atheists running around pointing fingers at atheism as having perverts like they do the Church), and so even if they don’t they will speak of it as being a Bad Friday which goes right back to what I said in the first place. If we have a Good Friday why can’t we just have a damn Bad Friday and be done with it?????

THINKING TWO


I was standing outside a store earlier today looking at a publication and I glanced past what I was reading to the sidewalk where there were several tiny ants running around in circles. I’m not sure the variety of the critters. I know they weren’t fire ants and they weren’t carpenter or black. They were what I’ve come in the past to know as “piss ants” or (more politely) sugar ants.

Anyway, they were running around staying close to the wall and I thought about stomping on a few of them and then I thought about the universe and life and began wondering. (I knew I was heading for trouble.) Sure enough I started thinking about the ants and everything else under the sun and beyond that was “alive” and puzzled over how it all is, or how it came to be, and what separates me from you and you and I from the ants. Is that a run on sentence? Probably. Probably broke every english rule or at least a fair number. But … rules. Who sets them? Are they of value? I suppose they bring order. So, yes, they are of value. Now, what of the ants and the rest of us. It is life. Is it not?

So, what is life? Animation in reality? Consciousness empowered to act? If we destroy an ant are we harming the universe? Are we harming ourselves? I don’t know. I really don’t. How could I. I would be arrogant and totally out of place if I said I did know or understand for that matter. Besides, at 2 AM I surely am not completely awake enough to be able to really be complete in my thoughts.

But I want to know! I want to understand what is it that takes a bunch of atoms and animates it and brings about thought such as I am having now and such as you are having while reading this. And, please don’t hand me the athiest BS that we just happened as I don’t buy it, not that I am into a religion but I am spiritual.

So, in the end, I looked at the ants with my foot raised above them and then I lowered it carefully to not crush any of them and walked away with so many unanswered questions. As I did I wondered if any of the ants had looked up at me and wondered about me.

Thoughts on a massacre.


I think what happened at Sandy Hook Elementary was horrible.  Yet we live in a society that allows partial birth abortion where a child is alive and being born and its skull is crushed.  But we as a society are not shocked by that.  That’s OK.  It’s not really alive because only the head has exited the woman’s body.  So we can kill it, and that’s OK.  It’s OK to kill as many unborn children as we so wish and we’re not shocked by it.  They have no names.  They have no photographs taken of them.  Newspaper articles are not written about them.  TV commentators make no mention of them.  And that’s OK.  We as a society allow these deaths to occur every day.  Every day!  And it’s OK, to crush a child’s skull because we as a society believe it’s OK.  Well I don’t!  It sickens me.  So mourn the dead of Sandy Hook, as you should.  Be horrified by the acts of a madman, as you should.  But shame on us for allowing the deaths of other innocent children struggling to be born only to have their brains crushed.  How many died yesterday.  How many would die today.  But we as a society endorse that.  That’s OK.  No gun was involved.  A clamp is used.  No one is of there to protect a child, to mourn a child, to give a damn about the child.  And to our society that’s OK.