War ,by any other name

War ,by any other name is still war...
The ugly head of war has started its rythmic  dance moves. 

Here is a reason- 'The public is getting restless, lets get some games going in the arena...so we can forget about things that bother in our daily lives'. How can we forget the entertainment value, something that the kingdoms of the past used with much pomp and fanfare. Some  places still do , after proper blessings and prayers and what not.. many regions in the world could use it, esp. to avoid thought. Think of the Roman empire. Thought can be dangerous especially , the kind that looks back, sometimes delve deep--all uncomfortable at any  which way you slice. So now we have elaborate names, catchy phrases, all for the war theater.
Collateral damage, hey its just them...those others...them lowly humans, over there.

Pc-3(03/2011)

(re-posting this , was from many yrs ago)

SPRKS IN CSF: War ,by any other name

SPRKS IN CSF: War ,by any other name: War ,by any other name is still war... The ugly head of war has started its rythmic  dance moves.  Here is a reason- 'The public is ge...

SPRKS IN CSF: My anxieties

SPRKS IN CSF: My anxieties: Little strands of anxieties trail me into my mornings. I don't care to dream as I worry which of these are going to come in as realities...

My anxieties

Little strands of anxieties trail me into my mornings. I don't care to dream as I worry which of these are going to come in as realities many years hence . In a way I am ok, because I have already looked into the end  where just a vacuum is what is left at the tail end of my crying and calling out to my kids  and everything just evaporated ...strangely with a calm resignation in the knowledge that  all of humanity  as is all nature had just evaporated .The current talk of AI threats just brought back that nightmare  from many years ago.

So what is there to be anxious about - really nothing , for life is finite , so we focus on our days as they evolve  before us  and hope for the health of earth to sustain us.. 

I dreaded these and other dreams- those that had bothered me more in the waking hours as they were  more implausible at the time , yet too vivid to be discounted and yet i had forcibly erased them from my thoughts . Now that I have seen that some of those nightmares were not  as implausible as my previous definition of implausible was .

I do not plan to go into the details , lets just say that what was a nightmare about  thirty years ago has come to pass in the recent times  as living nightmare scenarios . I wish and hope that we would not go the path to annihilation of humanity and earth as played out yrs ago in yet another  nightmare , but we are selfish humans and the more self absorbed ones just may feel the need to throw caution to the wind, just to  create this too into reality.

Even though this is my anxiety, I have to say I look at it  and see what stares back... ' that it is just beyond my control" I had seen it , now it is just ' whatever is going to happen is  going to happen '- besides I saw it in my nightmare , now  all I can do is just live each day hoping that in the day after tomorrow  humanity  would  still exist - For that, a better insight and right judgement by each of us - yes  all of us , do  need to occur ...

So with hope , I hold my anxieties in my hand , hoping to hold it tight for eternity in one hand and grasping at hope with the other.

by PC-3  ( 09/27/2026)

SPRKS IN CSF: Brief Musings on AI

SPRKS IN CSF: Brief Musings on AI:  Not that long ago, as a child , I marveled at my name...shortened to AI for Aida ( before i could write it all out, and coudn't fathom ...

Brief Musings on AI

 Not that long ago, as a child , I marveled at my name...shortened to AI for Aida ( before i could write it all out, and coudn't fathom the need for all those letters then).

Now they  go to a fantasy world  where  everyday I go to take over the world , the ruler of all , AI at my fingertips , no AI is my fingertips ... I think and therefore I am!

I have workforces that fear my AI, enslaved to their real and imagined threats directed to the masses , Ah my workforce , the masses...

My wealth- who needs wealth when you have absolute control, oh yes, the high of absolute control.

It was not that long ago that my nightmares , they  scared me, though not anymore . They are my companions now -in the AI universe of mine, move over Genghis Khan and Caligula, the ever empowered nightmare visions of mine are here... all nightmares are now immense possibilities with this beautiful AI. I control drones that swarm the universe, my thoughts their commands. My wishes unleashed , I call myself the one great AI.

Now that I am  almost fully addicted  to Chat GPT and Claude , words has lost their edge, lost of their beauty and magic, they have become 'just average'. When things lose their beauty and vibrance, they just become mediocre. So now with me ,'the one great AI', that I am, I realize  I don't even need the drones for external validation, and control ( too bad they are here, so let them go and swarm the universe ) .

I am here , there, everywhere... on second  thoughts , I am the automated extension of my codes, so why would I even consider a drone - I am code , therefore I am... so very existential , by myself , AI , I am...

By PC-3( 09/20/2026)

separated, at at at , tender age ...

This was written in 2018, when a certain memory just brought in a sudden burst of  anguish..

Today I read about Massechesets governer's call for nurse calls for Postpartum moms

A nurse can call , but I would say more than that is needed. real view of  things can  make a real difference in some ones despair and inescapable wretchedness of the life...

I thank Nurse Smith for the day she came by, knocked on the door until it was opened , thus saving  me and my child from the  abuser(however short a respite, it gave us relief),yet the other parent here whose standing was used to dissuade the  home visits by the nurses . The horrors are now just shadowy filamentous memories , but Thank you Nurse Smith and to all those who are able to sense what is hidden behind the facades we erect , the facades of happy lives even as these facades are what lie  closest  to real hell....

(pc-3 , 09/15/2026)

------------------------

 Seperated ,at at at ,tender age...

words, sounds
separated children,  man-made borders,
shelter pets, crickets in a nuclear dust, cries , breaking souls,
repeat again -- hate .. .control, laws, cruelties,
gloating laughter, backtracking words, sounds, crying children,
slammed doors... Bullies, laughable notes, music, sobs...
miller got soul envy,
hates a child that's ever been loved...
suckling pigs , sati on a pyre
paper white , ink that spread don't cry -only sulk to torture,
PTSD, return of the devil...time rewind, 1985 June , rules , laws...
untouchable, female, dirty, child, closed door ,
infant cries, pediatricians rules,.. dare to disobey?..
bully by any name is still one;
bully pulpits change, titles all shift shapes...
God weeps in children, in an infant,
love is not rules, nor dunes
dictator comes in all shapes, shape shifting demons,
beguiled masses...
oh so many years, traumas shadow all a life,
dare I question, raised eye brows,
oh nurse smith, one less moment of torture for my baby...
pediatrician, president or king-all shapes,
devils adorned in shimmer, mirage, life or oil vats..
Bibles- blades to guillotines,
dark days, dark shadows swirl inwards,
sorrow seeps to coat my soul,
soulless floaters, fake gods,
north star, plastic bit ,shimmer in the sky or the seas,
universe- reflected tar in our souls' images,
death, hell, life -all iterations of the same...

(poem by pc3-06/18/18)

consider donating -
https://www.aclu.org/
https://www.raicestexas.org/
or
https://actionnetwork.org/groups/raices-refugee-and-immigrant-center-for-education-and-legal-services

'I don't recall what triggered this poem, but  the content was a deep sadness for the cruelty meted out to my children by their father, especially my child born in 1985 with rules created each day , thus  seperating him from me - his mother ,preventing him to be fed even... yet was saved briefly by Nurse smith. I don't remember her first name , just glad she came by when she came to see  her consultant pediatrician's new baby ... the little miracles that happen even in the midst of the hell called life , these are what one is thankful for ....wanted to put it out here as I recalled that miracle"

SPRKS IN CSF: separated, at at at , tender age ...

SPRKS IN CSF: separated, at at at , tender age ...: This was written in 2018, when a certain memory just brought in a sudden burst of  anguish.. Today I read about Massechesets governer's ...

SPRKS IN CSF: Remember and recognize , and act...

SPRKS IN CSF: Remember and recognize , and act...:   Lets remember and act on the many losses as we recognize what we are loosing . 'My dear children, I have to advice you all not to loos...

Remember and recognize , and act...

 Lets remember and act on the many losses as we recognize what we are loosing .

'My dear children,
I have to advice you all not to loose heart, despite the much feared event-a Kaos presidency.
You are all blessed with wisdom that life gives... the values of moderation.
You have gone past the rigors of an education system that advises you to think , while abhorring your questioning and thinking minds...
You have managed to get into the adult world, where nothing is fair, yet with your determined souls you have made each of your environments a little bit more fairer for all.
You have witnessed the closet racism, the bigotry, and even the master mentality of some. At  times you re-call those  few occasions and have risen above it all. So with these experiences have come wisdom. It may seem like desperate times, but now is not the time to despair. This is the time for thought as well as action and there is much work to do.

THINK , because thought is not controlled by any, besides it allows you to bounce various ideas, stretch and contract things in your mind without any restraint. Out of thought is born actions, and clarity.
You may be quiet, which is alien to the majority in this nation, may be even to the vast world , especially because the process of contemplation and thought are somewhat alien to many.
Hence we have this  new president((not surprising ), and now the new icing on poisoned cakess...
You have experienced many a conflict...conflicts of identity, ideals and the external conflicts of power that is inherent in every community, including its smallest unit- the family and the individual...
It gives me great hope for the future as you all manage your lives, I am sure you will negotiate change, including your efforts to change policy, even beyond your areas of expertise into the outer world far beyond your comfortable niches.
You will also learn much about adaptability and creating change without loosing your inner selves, as I did over time.
So my advice to you all- make the change, just as the gentle waves do, but assured that your efforts will produce change. The tsunamis may have usurped the beaches, but the gentle waves persist and round out the jagged edges, where they break...
So go forth with clarity and the efforts that persist , joining forces with the many moderates out there just like you, ones with clarity and goodness in their souls, who strive for change, in the midst of a mindless robotic prattling lot and in the midst of the many that have destruction and hate within them ...
Do not despair, loud bangs do not carry the weight of clear thoughts, it's just noise and remains brief...'
If with clarity in your minds, you need swiftness of action, persistence, do not give up ...Go with determination , yet clear in your minds and remain true to the right thoughts and actions always.

a renewed re-post 

by

Pc-3 (from 2017, but ever more relevant today)

Lets all connect tcollectively hrough moving  democracyforward  in every little droplets we have or can

SPRKS IN CSF: Looking at a post partum time

SPRKS IN CSF: Looking at a post partum time:  All  days merge into nights , nights spill into mornings as sheer exhaustion Anxieties peak as the wail of the baby merges into your fears ...

Looking at a post partum time

 All  days merge into nights , nights spill into mornings as sheer exhaustion

Anxieties peak as the wail of the baby merges into your fears ,

Fears swirl all night long, worries becomes more of  flashes, 

Googling  those worries, ah they just  leaps  as kindle and fuel, 

Sleeping  or awake , none cares ,loathe yet do act... dance with joy and smile -to all,

Family and friends to perform to ,expectations  and more- when all you need is comfort,

Some understanding , some care , even when you are snapping slipping and sliding ,

But...Here you hear a snicker ,  one whispers 'it's the hormones', 

Some one else has a right way to feed the baby,

Yet another opine on  how to swaddle correctly, 

And another wonders aloud how your moods stops you  appreciating 'the wonderful father'... 

Oh how wonderful- he changed the baby twice , yet  no one sees you ...you, as you ...

Your MD or NP wants you on meds and 'yes, see you in two weeks'!

Dullness becomes you,  sometimes you feel you are loosing it, 

You hear  more , you see more ,just  as thoughts tangled with anger and despair swirl ,

And still no one sees it , say it out aloud... how indeed , indebted to joy , how can you?

Indebted to norms  , to womanhood as expectations , how indeed can you say what is deep , 

Deep dwelling , deep in your mind,

All the dark that swells as it swirls ... if only there was more comfort , more sleep ,

Less guilt , less  blames , less of  judges ;if only  more comfort, more real supports...

I would just love for some one to hold my hand and hear me truly, see  that I do feel within...

All the fears, the worries which mushrooms there ,the abyss of your thoughts,

To be truly present, more than with just words  or judging looks ...oh , if only...

Poem by Pc-3 (08/20/2026)

SPRKS IN CSF: 'Hind'

SPRKS IN CSF: 'Hind':  Hind-It's a name , names that means... 'some one', Yet names , they define one , they limits one, and we all have names ... The...

SPRKS IN CSF: 'Hind'

SPRKS IN CSF: 'Hind':  Hind-It's a name , names that means... 'some one', Yet names , they define one , they limits one, and we all have names ... The...

'Hind'

 Hind-It's a name , names that means... 'some one',

Yet names , they define one , they limits one, and we all have names ...

They are children, they are mothers, are fathers , brother, sister  , some ones' some body...

We never chose who we are , how we are  or where we were placed on this earth,

Yet again others want to destroy lives ... just because , just that ;for 'being'.

There are shapes, colors ,sounds , they differ ...

I pray again,  oh universe, oh let the might of nature  take over please ,

Yet again my prayer so the 'puny humans of war' be made to stop, 

By the wrath of nature , even as all Gods sleep, for Gods,  ''an eternal  coma'-

Has unleashed the demons of Men, here , there and over the hills too...

Demons of men ,theirs  an epilepsy  with chants of ' destroy all', theirs 'god given insanity' indeed...

So I pray , Nature do what you do, so the blinded men stop their wars, please....

Poem  by Pc-3  ( 02/10/2023)

SPRKS IN CSF: Japan-images, fuzzy yet clearer... (may be )

SPRKS IN CSF: Japan-images, fuzzy yet clearer... (may be ): As the dawn creeps along on the tail of fading darkness, I lay somewhere between sleep and wakefulness. Some images come floating by again....

Japan-images, fuzzy yet clearer... (may be )

As the dawn creeps along on the tail of fading darkness, I lay somewhere between sleep and wakefulness. Some images come floating by again...vivid, more bright, full of life than life itself.
I connect these and recognize the dots, the dots of fire that dance all around me, flickering, little tongues and comma-shaped worms ...all curling up along the wall.  The repeated theme of my nightmares before I was even four...nightmares that came maybe along with me at birth itself...pieced into my awareness , may be even before birth. 

I would call out  and some-one  would awaken to get me down from my  bed, stayed to soothe me. These flickering tongues... they were there even  before I learned to stretch  and crawl up the steps at my grandmothers house.
They stayed even on the day I heaved myself grasping at the hard cement step, holding to the edge of the stone that jutted out a little, just big enough for my tiny fingers as I hauled up there scraping part of my  four year old abdomen. I had scampered after my grandmother as she went along to feed the goat somewhere under a  low tree. I followed her foot steps that stayed as fleeting depressions on the wet grass. I followed these depressions gingerly as I wanted to see her awed joy at my new and unexpected ability that day, my first climb achievement ..
Jewels of the first dew drops smiled at me and at the morning sun that peeked through the leaves. Fear had stopped me briefly as I neared the top of the stairs...the vast expanse of the universe in front of me  looked scary and different from all my previous reference points.  As I climbed that last step  the yard seemed smaller yet large , but now  an attainable expanse. 

I had brought along my friend, invisible to all others, talking to him, the encouraging words and looks keeping me busy and with that courage I had made that epic climb. Of course he would become very quiet if any body came by, but would look at the adults and blink the eyes to tell me to be quiet. The only exception was my grand-ma , some-times..
When  finally I caught up with my grand-ma she had that surprised look...for "there I was...indeed"...both of us excited about -growth catching up.
Despite all these landmarks , the nightmares came. They came nearly everyday. My invisible friend could not do anything...but just watched, powerless. He was just an imaginary friend to the grown ups, but he knew every bit of my being, always by my side 
  I never really understood then, nor paid much attention to those dreams  for most of my life, those nightmares stayed in the backed up stack of memories...until I visited Japan. As I walked through Hiroshima, there was one picture by someone who had seen it, the horror, the awful depth of the horrors  at that  far off time... way before I ever came into being as me...
He had  seen it and lived it...My nightmares , exactly as I had them, so exact, so clear, yet he drew them, lived that ,with no way to escape... The flickering glow of fire worms, against the gray orange of the days, the all enveloping heat and the hazy orange gray of evening.... I used to wake up screaming "puthan, poothan' , then I could hear a jumble of conversations as a faint murmur of sounds , and it just repeated  night after night...they were there every night...there even before words formed into meaning and sounds..
  Then as I walked out to the park by the  river it came, as a vision , the recall merged into something I could not express...just profound fears next to past horrors.. the fear of water in my little river where the ground shifted, algae that felt to my child hood mind as grasping hands, all pulling me down. I had tried to tell my mother... more fear than words that tumbled out , but  she just said" it is just algae, it cannot catch you or pull you", all matter of fact in her responses.. My fear of that algae was so extreme, that I could not  step in there without checking for the green algae in the water, but I loved the river so. Yet there  I was ... Oh how I  feared that algae .

I understood that feel of silt on the quite side of our small stream . I  tried to describe it to my cousins as they waded in  to play in that part...tried telling them how it felt like people, like a doughy yield of skin, of bodies , of death, but they just laughed and splashed water at me. I stayed at  my safe area where the gravely sand was never soft, but cushioned my feet pressing gently against my tiny arches, my tiny feet.
In the  Hiroshima park I sat on a bench, thirsty, parched throat that refused to be hydrated despite the water and milk tea...
The stone lanterns in the park, the carved stones- there it was again, what I had obsessively drawn, tracing the outline, despite the annoyance in  every adults' glance. Finally my grand-mother bought me a slate and slate pencil, so I could draw with a clean washed surface each time as the pictures filled up that board. Yet it remained the same picture..  over and over. It was one of those lamps in silhouette....I had forgotten about my constant drawings until I saw that lamp , just as I passed by it that evening.. my children stared at my tears and were concerned, rightly so....then it all came to me as a flood of memories, all locks broken, from some unknown past pieced into one slipping into my present life...
It had never crossed my awareness that rebirth may be possible, but now I am not so certain. I do not have clarity about my imaginary friend, but one who was by me all that time...may be still is, or will come...The nightmares are stay vivid in my memory today, so is the feel of the algae and the silted riverbed. I can close my eyes and feel those, same feelings. They rushed through my mind again this morning as I moved into wakefulness, thus that uncertainty has taken form and spilled out as words. Now that it has found some clarity, the disquiet has calmed itself again. In one sense I only belonged to my grandmothers house, yet the only other place I felt happy and really that same sense of belonging  again was just in Japan. How can I explain that sense of "not quiet right" even when I build a home, even through the many countries I have been to and yet never felt 'I know the place, that I was fully part of it in any way', with a disquiet, a longing ...
     May be this is where my affinity for Buddhist philosophies came into being-or may be it was there all along waiting to get out into my conscious thoughts, despite another religion that enveloped me always, that I have passed on to my children, along with some life principles that I strive to... I will never know with certainty, will I? Instead I will continue to course through life trying to cause the least damage all around as those principles advise....

by Pc-3( updated 08/06/2025)

The clouds of inhuman nature in man has taken over the  many who are able to work towards bringing peace in this world, yet they  do  walk away from those efforts ,loudly creating divisive destructive policies  and they all act to cause more suffering  ... 

SPRKS IN CSF: Red flows clear

SPRKS IN CSF: Red flows clear:  Here spilled blood  flows clear , Muddied streams, they hold souls  , Every raindrop holds a curse,  icicles are spears , For the string of...

Red flows clear

 Here spilled blood  flows clear ,

Muddied streams, they hold souls  ,

Every raindrop holds a curse,  icicles are spears ,

For the string of thugs , your fates, lies cannot clean

 Yet rain on your families , your children ,

Theirs' to carry the burden , the dead never forgive...

Be it here or there , cruel your minds'  scabs,

Festers  within your souls , the decay , the stench,

It all coats , volcanic ash over a nation

Stench through time, the red has  colored the earth,

This decay, seeps deep within the nation's soul...

Poem by PC-3( 07/13/2026)

SPRKS IN CSF: ode to my senses in time of loss

SPRKS IN CSF: ode to my senses in time of loss:  Ah, the flared nostrils sigh in pleasure, hints of garlic and chilli waft in , Sprinkled into the  cup of yogurt, the sour notes tickle  my...