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09/18/2023

I HAVE A QUESTION.

I have a question. I’m interested in your response.
I don’t wish to start an argument or a fight.
The world’s gone to the sh*t. I think you will agree.
We, the older generation are, in part, the villains;
We allowed it to, participated in destroying
A once-beautiful environment. One could blame
the industrial revolution; on rapacious, greedy men
Who put themselves above a living biosphere;
Or generations of disinterest. One could!
I suggest a more sinister reason,
The driving force behind the industrial revolution;
The weapons of war industry.

It’s time for a discussion, is it not?
The kind, that drives actions.
Between whom? Aye, that is the question.
With our younger selves? Maybe.
How about the generation that is experiencing
This hell? The younger generation.

It will be their task to deal with the environment
And the effects. Can we advise, and share wisdom?
Fl*ck off. We had our chance and blew it.
There are people who see the earth as a living organism.
An organism that has decided that we are unworthy.
So, it uses viruses to deal with us, a living virus.
Stupid to the extreme. Is this the end?

Or a new beginning?

Can we at least discuss the matter?
With whom?

08/12/2023

Robert Frost
1874 –
1963
Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,
And sorry I could not travel both
And be one traveler, long I stood
And looked down one as far as I could
To where it bent in the undergrowth;

Then took the other, as just as fair,
And having perhaps the better claim,
Because it was grassy and wanted wear;
Though as for that the passing there
Had worn them really about the same,

And both that morning equally lay
In leaves no step had trodden black.
Oh, I kept the first for another day!
Yet knowing how way leads on to way,
I doubted if I should ever come back.

I shall be telling this with a sigh
Somewhere ages and ages hence:
Two roads diverged in a wood, and I—
I took the one less traveled by,
And that has made all the difference.

08/09/2023

I dream of a woman clothed in white.
She wears wings that shine with golden light.
Her hair is fine like that of an olden wife.
Her eyes hold a vision of the road of life.
She whispers love through the winds.
Then rivers of love flow to my heart and my spirit ascends.
I grow embraced by heavenly heights.
Then glow rays of warmth and light.
I wait only for her touch of the purest.
I fall to her holding of love, of spirit!
We become one in loving presence together.
In love, we come to heaven forever.
Like two doves we sing and dance.
Love of a queen and king.
Love will forever last.

08/07/2023

Reading out like a heartbeat, Frost's most famous work draws from nature to explore the human conflict of being torn between life’s beauty and its responsibilities. With the repetition of ‘and miles to go before I s poem, Frocaptures the feeling of a moment we've all experienced — one where we're weary of life and

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