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...

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 palate,

At the back there is the garlicky goodness, all comfort, for my soul ... 

To soothe my soul,  for the day is shaky, in fears, in lost senses...

Lost days, those that I had pushed to the back, as I touch  my todays,

My loss of self , my anguish,

Now they have gripped me  again, 

For motherhood was just a taunt thrown at me as I held my dear child ,

My tears to just hold my  own baby , my entreaties  all naught, 

To the sperm giver ,was it all about power, all to torture ?

Today I seek solace in a simple senses of taste ,

For the dark forces gather again , the deep dark soul  drunk on  power,

Thiers  it is to destroy woman,  call themselves 'man'

Lecherous  beasts, dared you to stop me ,to be by my children, 

Yet in power , you wild beasts dare you rule my uterus ?

Dare you  breathe , lest your vile bile  fill your black lungs ,

Sputter you beasts as air grip in its loss, lost from you for all eternity...

Dare you  debase me , all us , all "me's";  

Then yours for eternity, through generations shall be the  veil of death,

 May bilious heavy air be forever  yours, envelope you ever ...

 

poem by Peace crane 3 (05/04/22)

reflect I on (a poem by pc3)

I want to take this space to reflect, as the future  and past draws to a close..lost to a present, almost like the inconsequential feeling to life when hurtled through the skies to the dark force,
not the force of balance but of insatiety... for lives, for all that give meaning to life...!!. .

First things first ...I say again , with more conviction now ...

I am  still afraid to reflect,
For fear if my thoughts spill out here, then can I walk with nary a care?
Or should I at every step feel smaller and weaker, in a new year...
But again, that's not in my nature,so-
I sigh with relief, for some oceans ,and many such cares
Have saved hope of being  that, oceans ...
Thank you ,president Obama, for caring, for being,
Beyond gains of now,for trying ,on the many ways...
For keeping values, reflected , and reflectives,
For thoughts, in a land that shun thoughtfulness,
Where loud matter,to keep right action,beyond all clamour...
An office, a title, not squandered,but honor kept,
For the few amongst many,valued thoughts ,
So a kindred in spirit, for our own thoughts ,values reflected here and there...



as we hurtle to the land of dark forces and lost sights,
we have to try not to be swallowed by the dark,
yet land with our antennae, in our new world order,
our antenae - evolutions' gift , just sprouting

(poem -by PC3-01/21/2017)-- but very much relevant now -dec 2017 or may be more relevant today 

SPRKS IN CSF: Reflecting Pool

SPRKS IN CSF: Reflecting Pool:   Reflecting on a reflecting pool had me thinking, Is it all just to deflect, shall we add more of Benjamin's green , Just all to prove ...

Reflecting Pool

 Reflecting on a reflecting pool had me thinking,

Is it all just to deflect, shall we add more of Benjamin's green ,

Just all to prove the greening prosperity,

Why indeed ...its green in prosperous  reflection of a great nation ,

Never a doubt , green as the trillions , green as wealth and great prosperity !

Poem by Pc-3( 06/21/2026)

SPRKS IN CSF: reflect I on (a poem by pc3)

SPRKS IN CSF: reflect I on (a poem by pc3): I want to take this space to reflect, as the future  and past draws to a close..lost to a present, almost like the inconsequential feeling ...

SPRKS IN CSF: You stay a Beacon

SPRKS IN CSF: You stay a Beacon:   Marjane Satrapi  , you stay a beacon,  Shining your light  over the waters ,  Lest we stay in our blind spots, where dark is called light....

You stay a Beacon

 Marjane Satrapi , you stay a beacon, 

Shining your light  over the waters , 

Lest we stay in our blind spots, where dark is called light...

Honoring through Persapolis , is all we can do now ,

Ponder over the shifting sands of time , 

Of noise and moths of people, of  lives,

Moth eaten bits of truths  flutter all around ...

Poem by PC-3 (06/04/2026)

SPRKS IN CSF: O Little Lamb

SPRKS IN CSF: O Little Lamb: O little lamb, do you hear the calls? The wind whispers, calling for you , Just do wake  now ,the hills are calling, your hoofs to stomp ,  ...