gifts of war

horrendous

though embedded

through immemorial life..

unexpected

this singular testimony..

one's discovery

of essential being

there in plummeting depths

of darkest time..

the discovery

not confided..

of terrible truth

in secrecy guarded

with rarity spoken..

but when

always with tears..

the discovery

a flame within

a newfound dimension

found with horror..

then awe overshelming

joined with surprise

of inexpressible joy..

this more real

than earlier notions

of what's out there

and in here..

the discovery
a radiant thread
the connector
of life with death..
inestimable worth
transformed awareness
new birth
still..too frightening
too wondrous
to mention..
gifts of war...

(this is for my
dear friend, Paul,
and his gift work
to elevate the
consciousness
of us all...)

Topic:  "How do we separate truth from lies?"

Philosophical Cafe, August 28th, 2012

QUESTIONS...

1.  Well...how do you do it?

2.  Can you define truth?

3.  Is science a search for truth?

4.  What is a half-truth?

5. How does the internet relate to this topic?

6.  How about the political campaign underway?

7.  How do metaphor and mythology relate to truth?

A lie gets halfway around the world before the truth has a chance to get its pants on.

Winston Churchill

A lie cannot live.

Martin Luther King, Jr.

For every good reason there is to lie, there is a better reason to tell the truth.

Bo Bennett

If you tell a big enough lie and tell it frequently enough, it will be believed.

Adolf Hitler

Music doesn't lie. If there is something to be changed in this world, then it can only happen through music.

Jimi Hendrix

Discrimination is a hellhound that gnaws at Negroes in every waking moment of their lives to remind them that the lie of their inferiority is accepted as truth in the society dominating them.

Martin Luther King, Jr.

A lie told often enough becomes the truth.

Vladimir Lenin

No one can lie, no one can hide anything, when he looks directly into someone's eyes.

Paulo Coelho

The great enemy of the truth is very often not the lie, deliberate, contrived and dishonest, but the myth, persistent, persuasive and unrealistic.

John F. Kennedy

Economy does not lie in sparing money, but in spending it wisely.

Thomas Huxley

An excuse is worse and more terrible than a lie, for an excuse is a lie guarded.

Pope John Paul II

Half a truth is often a great lie.

Benjamin Franklin

pawn stars

cajun family

personalities

dealing with

alchemical transmutation

transactions

changing of values

history for money..

wildly popular show..

biting humor wraps

sly bidding and exchange

greed rises and falls..

initial bid and response

a scaling gap

startled unbelief..

increments then decide

decisions' sharp edge

money or heritage..

convenience argues

bad choices faced

painful needs are voiced

a values paradox..

 microcosm of life now...?

snapshots of our mirror...?

The Pillar Institute announces:

SECOND  ANNUAL  MARY  OLIVER  FESTIVAL!!

for Friends, Poets, and Poetry Lovers!

Where?  PILLAR Institute for Lifelong Learning, 202 E. Cheyenne Mtn. Blvd, Suite I

When?  Saturday, Sept. 22nd, 2012

9:30 am to 12:30 pm

(Please call Pillar to register:  719-633-4991)

$25 for Members: $30 for Non-Members

(scholarships available)

You are encouraged to share a poem or other writings by Mary Oliver.

How have her words inspired or transformed you?

Please bring about 25 copies of any work you plan to share.  

A morning of poetry, pleasure, and inspired sharing!! 

Robin Izer, Facilitator (phone 719-634-1441)

docking station

we each have

our place to stand

a place always present

an aligned awareness

and sacred connection 

joining dark to light..

discovery comes first

then remembering..

forgetting is easy

each place is hidden

alignment broken..

sensing ones place

intent brings focus

a movement we notice

shapes in motion..

surfaces rising

then returning to

rise again..

a torus in motion..

watch the jellyfsh

its pulsing survival..

the web also instructs

animations in

splendid variety

this sacred movement..

become the motion

discover your own..

experience then

a gentle rocking 

inhale

centered and upward

to brilliant light..

exhale

light now filtered

shadow and pain

breathing

unending..

a docking station

now introduced..

awaits remembering

intention for use..

check the circuits

the cellular lights..

a new identity

now fully alive

ready connected and 

now to fly...

docking station images...see poem above...

crepuscular rays

from these rays

brilliant at sunrise

and sunset 

from holes in low clouds

below the horizon emerging

we learn

they are really parallel..

only our perspective

makes them diverge..

what of our lives

many divergences we see

separations and frags..

might we change 

our perspective..?

might we wish to

do that..?

 solitude

a time to find

momentary awareness..

those sensations and thoughts

arising

encapsulate these

in absorbing light..

mitigation

transformation

 two become one

then again two..

then new sensations

new thoughts

a neverending story

producing a

glow...

big data

news this morning

the next big thing..

intuition and experience

reported as smothered

a tidal wave 

sheer numbers and weight

left finally defeats right..

data's new patterns

never before seen

a computing triumph

without much doubt..

but taking a moment

reading between headlines

something's unseen

intuition a bird

soaring much higher 

finding new branches

a perch beyond

discovering bold patterns..
patterns

among patterns...

healthcare

a national

dilemma

fears abound

losses loom darkly

i lose mine

if we are covered..

i versus we..

awakening

from this dream

a new lucid vision..

there is no i

nor a we..

a bewildering surprise

the linkage

our real constitution..

the real

patient...

beads and strings

our lives

a parable each one..

looking back

stringing new beads today

evoked memories in

their sequence

a sequence 

never before seen..

then pondering that the

beads in my string

might be strung

in so many ways..

but for today

the string I strung

seems quite enough

for new energy

new joy I found..

then pondering again

a question arising

what are those strings...?

palmer park thunderstorm

by charles coon

a timely arrival..
welcome refuge
a gathering storm..
sheltered somewhat
from the arriving flash
and pelting
downpour..

rain rivulets
quickly formed
on a miniature scale
tiny rivers and streams
branchings and splittings..
the storm's rapid creation
all at once seemed whole..

lightening and thunder
light and sound
their separate reports..
all creation is splitting..
the thunderstorm's gift
instant reminder of
separation in
interwoven whole..

with the storm's passing
a bright light in the west
painted a rainbow on
a now darkened east..
a sourcing of
bowed colors out east..
though very soon
curved colors
took flight
fading fast in
their birthing light...