This day dawns hushed,
The red fruit of the haze
Floats low on the horizon,
Wisps of burnt nature smart my eyes,
Nature's revenge ,its own singed skin;
Scars the earth though slow,
As you flay the forests bare in wider sweeps,
And soups the oceans in plastic,
Natures revenge , it coats my air.
Maybe I will remember it tomorrow,
May be I will stop to think again...
Poem by PC-3 (06/07/2023)
On Asthma, flashbacks and Gods….
Flashbacks, they come un-invited. A little girl cowering
under the covers, stuffing her shirt into her mouth to stop the sound that
escape unannounced…Yet you fear ,trying to place a comforting hand on her, you
fear that her attempts to gain air through the sobs will be heard beyond these
walls, unleashing further wrath in the one in the next room. You again pray
that sleep has closed off that other
parent in the next room. Through her
sobs she lets you know that which you and she knows inherently… “I cant help it,
I am trying , but I cant stop crying”, and then bigger, deeper sobs…
The air that is trying to oxygenate the deeper far alveoli
gets stuck, as the mucus fills them, those airways stay tightly closed ,a wheeze is all that can escape along the interspace of those heart wrenching
sobs…You silently pray, then you carry the frustration in you that ‘God can’t hear’.
All the Gods cannot change is the reality before you, when
humans choose to produce the suffering.
Natasha, Tony or Jana, none can escape that which is before
them every day…that suffering, the suffering that which becomes part of them,
they carry the weight of what they have seen and heard, they just walk one day
to the next… Their lives are forever modified, they shake but no, that which
left the scars deep within their minds can never be shaken off... Never will
they shake off that heaviness…
Providence is just another misguided term for where the
souls fall, who your caretakers in this life be , all set to chance and that same which seals your destiny. As mothers, fathers, children
and ancestors course through their lives, destinies are weaved in. Here we humans
and all universe interconnect, all just a factor of chance …
By Pc-3(from around sept 2004)
I opened the New York Times Book review section , ready to toss it to the paper garbage , after-all I will never have the luxury of time to read. What is even the point of scanning at the grapes presented, preemptively knowing that they are going to be sour or just sit there and rot. Besides why spend thirty quid on some book that likely will looses flavor in a few pages, just to add to the fattened pot of an author who when not writing , may minister to the sick or infants of the profession ...thus went my thoughts as the page opened to the heading 'family medicine '.
I scanned through the review, made a face and threw into the paper pile. In the evening as I made my next day's lunch ,a part of me go over to the paper pile and read the review a little bit.
Some thing in the review irked me and I mutter to myself about 'some Solomon guy who has no clue about places and people sit there and feel all mighty big and judges a book's content...I bet he has nothing to do with India ' The phone rings and its my daughter... so I express my annoyance about the reviewer .
Thus I decide to buy the book and as I read , I am more annoyed at some random reviewer with no clue of the land or people or a past that is plausible( and true if you stitched together just the group of people and families I knew in my infancy in a tiny village area ) had felt righteous to judge with his words . Move it another generation back and I see it all as really possible . The story flows and here I am reading it - the covenant of water...
I change the names and move them like chess pieces and I have my childhood vividly displayed with all the dramatic flair of those days .There are too many mishaps and terrible things happen in the book, and possibly in a past not that far away , but life did go on and people had an element of goodness and ethical ways to get through from one day to the next as best as they could . I am not blind to the impact of caste system and the power of the landed over the poorer sections of the society , nor am I discounting that the corrupt systems' grapple-hold and the powers be created and made so much suffering , but the simple goodness despite it all in those around me is what I recall . It has changed now and just like the dew drops dies on a blade of grass ,the good in people have shrunk and the goodness dies daily and gradually... Just like the reaches of a cancer , quietly invading and eroding the goodness within people , in our Gods own country...yes God has been quietly slumbering , unable to heal our minds ,may be.
Back to the book - I am glad to be reading it , makes me skim to the surface of a time that at once makes me sad and touched, for that which is gone as it is part of the fabric of me... a person , part of my mind , my memories that makes me , the parts I hold dear and those had moved me through my life in times that would have felled some others under the strain it brought... I am glad to get back to that land through a book , so thank you book for getting to me through a confluence of chanced emotions and actions...I am certain some call that 'fate' and others call it 'god /deity in action', but what ever name it carries it chanced me to the book and through that into a window that I can slide into the past where with all the faults it was truly the land where God lived in its peoples minds perhaps..
by Pc-3 (05/15/2023)
I am at once elated and concerned by the recent interest in my posts, I wonder who finds what I write interests them. (mostly I write... more for myself) . I am glad someone reads them, hopefully not just a bot or AI generated readership. I am always hopeful that my writings are not used for creating suffering for anyone in the vastness of this world, however I am sure even my innocuous words could shape and metamorphose into spears within some dark forces, hence my trepidation with the recent interest in my posts . If more good comes of it , then it will be gratifying that something that I wrote helped some one in some form. That all I have to say about the viewing of my random posts
( by pc-3 -05/03/2023)
The fog lifts gently as the land warms,
A log, once a tree, now on a journey,
To oneness with dear Earth,
I step, a poor judgment trip,
On the ground, the earth smells me ,
Not mine to smell the earth today ,gifts of pollen,
My nares' scourge , so reactive they block all scents ,
No breaks, no twists but for a bruised ego,
My fall cushioned on the softened leaves,
Last fall's gift to Mother nature,
All nature ,a gift for us too always
(poem by PC-3 -04/22/2023)
I am reading books again, as my days have spaces opened for them as I travel to see family.
It is on a whim that I bought the book 'Braiding sweet grass' by Robin Wall Kimmerer, just by a chance encounter with how the words flowed in the book . I don't remember where I read the sentences, but just went ahead and bought it for reading on the train .
I have since stopped my thoughts to wonder more about the strong connection I felt to nature as a child growing up , how we were reminded of not wasting and to be grateful for all that is before us. There was a sense of compassion to all the nature that surrounded us, including those wasps that bit me , the snakes that wandered out to near our house... the general premise of the times and as my grandmother used to say was this, "they have as much a right to be here as you have , so let them go their way". The subsequent generations have shifted in their ways of life and views. The general acceptance of all life and the way of sharing with the others in the community has given way to an isolationist and narcissistic way of viewing every day events and people which has permeated the minds of people even in my old village in India . The place I once remembered has changed , but all that is left in me is an ache for a past that is gone away , withered away with time .In place of the small houses, now there are mansions each of them vying to be bigger and grander than the next.
I have noticed that the sustainability of 'less waste ' as more of a struggle , I see my daughter turning off the lights that her husband leaves on all through the house and her frustrations at the lighted house in the middle of a sunny day. This is a place cultures collide and I just hope what comes out of it will be a more sustainable approach . Their new child may show the way to a middle ground away from the extremes that is all around him. As my daughter said, "I hope I can give this baby the life I want with the values I think are important, not his dad's or society's waste everything way of thinking".
As I read more of the 'braiding sweet grass' , I too begin to have a deeper understanding , I too realize , each small drop of relevant values will move the future generations closer to a place of wisdom and lives lived with gratitude becoming a way of life .Of course the future will be guided by nature , it's just a question of if it will be a transition in ease of acceptance or forced despite our resistance ...one way or the other nature will lead .
(by Pc-3, 02/17/2023)
I have no words, only tears,
I can't watch news ever again.
I heard it as I turned the tele in the evening ,
Now no more...
Know I will be haunted with that sound ...
Oh no, dear God, why have you made only evil,
Named it humans, said we have words and choices,
Yet dropped it like molten rock into men's hearts?
Cruelty thy name is human...
Animals are your creation, yet we pride in a soul,
The souls are charred vestiges ,left from your better creations ,
Be they created or evolved, evil dwells heavy in the souls ,
That had only cruelty to a young Tyre...
The cries will reverberate through us , for all our days ,
Waking us from our sleep, as we pray to faceless gods ,
As we hope again in the dark for life for our children,
As this cursed nation search for a soul, yet again , in vain...
Yet again see the hardened souls , drunk with power ,
Walk by and lay down to a sleep so sound ,
For theirs' is a remorseless power, dark and set solid...
But for us , despite all prayers and hopes, our days just stretch long ,
Anxious hours drag into days , stretched into shriveled time,
To our lives, our wretched lives waiting for our children to return,
Until the next day again and again for eternity,
With prayers to Gods who cannot hear us...
poem by Pc3 -(01/27/2023)
I think back to the time when they checked for some boxes in a Marilago corridor , well it appears that what was not recovered there has been found in a series, as a more to follow event I am implying the classified documents found in Biden's locked cabinet. The surprise is why stop with just two sets of documents? I am sure there are many more documents to be moved and deposited in other places . Lets say for example New jersey is closer and so is New york some sheds etc. on where Biden may have stopped by at lets say fifty/sixty years ago. Transportation costs will work out cheaper too for the cheapskater in chief and those said mole employees.
Oh in case one forgot or is stuck with a lack of ideas , I have more suggestions... timing matters , hence consider to time it with summer solstice or near July 4th, and the expose can be timed with summer solstice, if that is not possible can time it overshadow any other major events. The expose time should be timed right and that way more light can be had on the tube for the great one. Thus round and round we go, until it gets all jaded and then ' pinkie and the brain' go again to another try at 'take over the world'...
Next try to numb any brain cells left for the masses , so they are more vulnerable to be gaslighted . The masses will fall for all the gaslighting and be pliable to any and all possible lies and convenient truths. It seems already evident as seen at the house speaker debacle and santos blindness ,already infecting many. Its not covid that is stripping life out of people it is apathy and the inability to question the appearance of fakes right in front of all our eyes ,lets cheer for the grabbers for them to grab our finances, our minds and thus our lives.
Post script: adding a few forgotten points on the above subject:-
There is option for an air drop to the various yard's with Biden's name to it, one can save cost by scheduling a drone drop and then they can be found by any random person floating by within the pres's yard and this can continue the drama. Then again why not get climate friendly and claim as your own the 'climate saving agenda' by sending those files along a kite that will be wind powered ... this will align the cheif cheapskater a way into the hearts of the idiots like me. We will lap it up with tears in our eyes for the great T saving the earth and all those polar bears. Ah, one small advice , don't leave the greasy finger prints on the files along with the added fake prints , may have to wipe the greasy ones and the burger flavor off so as not to entice some random neighborhood canine who may disturb all the pointed proof, all that evidence...
PTSD is like a shadow that follows you every where , the difference is this shadow is there as your constant companion , just popping up whenever and wherever it feels like, always uninvited . So with that being clear, lets try to face it and accept it for what it is - its a lifelong companion who is with you for the whole journey of life, whether you like it or not , like a bump or bug bite that itches and re appears every so often, for some of us it is so often that it is a daily part of the essence of ourselves through out our days..
Step 1- Accept it , always easy to say , but can't get to really do it as a first step, so to alternate steps...
a - Have a daily schedule that you follow every day diligently, be it on holidays or weekends or work days ie. any day and every day. It helps initially to write down a schedule , look at it , stick to it and don't forget to include things such as showering or eating/drinking ( not alcohol- alcohol even if it may be your current companion is not your friend , so ditch alcohol ) and sleeping on a schedule.. .some times these basics get forgotten and lost , especially when the PTSD is really bad . It always get better with time, indeed it does .. .
b-Any kind of physical activity helps , a walk , learning a dance - i say learning to dance , because the act of dancing or singing no longer comes naturally, nor does any of the things you ever enjoyed in the past, they all have an aura of a chore when you are struggling with PTSD . Despite that feel , do it like any chore and repeat . On an aside all hobbies that you get into , they are fleeting and thus do not last , so being aware of it helps.. Do still get to hobbies, doing them and attempting to try them. Any interest in a hobby or activity is a positive.
c-There is a certain urge to dwell on things, saying, "why me , how unfair everything has been" etc. But try to think of your traumas not as miserable events, but just as ' experiences' . Life always have experiences, just that these were hard ones . Hence you are not the victim ,the suffering one , nor under the yoke of PTSD, you are the survivor . Yes you are just a person who had some events, which you are going to chalk up as some 'experiences'...This construct is just for your mind and it doesn't negate the horror of the traumatic event, just makes it manageable for your mind preventing it from unravelling moment to moment. That is one way you try get a handle on things in the attempt to live, to get on with life , one foot in front of the other, one hour at a time( at better times one day or few days at a time) and still one step after another.
d-There are some distressing things that are beyond comprehension. One of them being flashbacks. With the flashbacks you notice that your day just stayed there and withered away , hence that feeling of wasted time .. . How to get out of these uninvited flashbacks (ie. they come in all forms and varying severity but they are never in your control) - Try to find something that you like , be that a beach, a park , a tree that moves in the breeze, then make that piece of nature yours. keep a a picture of it with you... for all just to escape to breathe , to get a gasp of momentary sanity... those times when you need a visual reminder and momentarily imagine being there . These reminders help you move through your day a little easier and each day these pictorial images help you to shed some of the internal burden you carry. Some other things that help are inspirational quotes, soothing music ,stretching , even moving to another place like out doors , another room etc. If you can catch yourself sliding into a flash back( you can occasionally be aware of this) then these things aid you to get out from it's hold a little quicker . Some times you have to do multiple things , but you try and try again . If possible any physical motion or movements help and can be done unobtrusively wherever you are at. Some days you may just wake up feeling restless, annoyed ,but do know these are all part of the PTSD.
f-Nightmares... like the flash backs they are there... only how bad or how often they are present varies. They tend to come in groups . Bring yourself to think of them as movies ,but just horrible ones. Another helpful step is this -before you sleep try to tell yourself how the room is yours and look at the things that make it your room and force yourself to own it ,to make it yours .This will have to be repeated for many many days. When you wake with a nightmare , it helps if you can get to ground yourself by looking and seeing something that will get your mind and brain to move to the present place and time. It doesn't reduce or negate the jarring nightmare that was present, just make you become aware to the present .Yet it will be hard to fall back to sleep. This is the time when you try to day dream of your favorite place in your mind to force yourself to get back to sleep again , to get back to sleep hoping of no more nightmares . But the reality is that they just come , so go on doing it over and over , and manage to get whatever measly sleep you can(nightmares are going to be there, but they do become less with time) So...
g-feeling of disconnect and lack of joy...The biggest bummer is when you feel disconnect to your children , especially to your young child - it always put an added layer of guilt and anger . Force to act the part of what you think is the normal action , what has to be done to interact and do that acting part when faced with disconnect . With time the connectedness happen (this may come in on and off form and do take time ,so do persist to act the part) If you feel angry , do work out ,or use that energy to get things done that tend to be put off..... postponed or neglected from day to day. The reality is there is a constant inertia that I can only describe as "being weighed down and feeling of being stuck in cement , unable to move" It helps to have a list of prioritized tasks to complete/do as the tendency is to focus on and to do non essentials at any given time , anger works as an energizer to task completion. No feeling of achievement will be present ,(even if you win the Nobel prize, the feeling of achievement can be absent) so say to your-self that you did it .
h-guilt feelings and remorse . Guilt and remorse of what you lost or what could have been is a definite feeling - so come to accept that the present life is yours . It is during the holiday season and special occasions that they seem to envelope you more than any other time. At these times this remorse and guilt seems to become so huge and untamable . How ever force yourself not to ever compare your day or life to some one else's. I think it is hard to do , but focus instead on how you can help another in need , do anything to help others and that seems to make the day bearable and at some point you start looking at some of the silver lining of your big cloud...yes the cloud that goes with you everywhere and comes uninvited .
I have only given a brief mini guide . So many a times you are going to feel that you are not you , but the you that is there will come together slowly bit by bit...Yes time , sometimes it seems such a long wait , but time helps, and so do your efforts in those everyday small steps you take .
I may add updates to this , but for now , give these suggestions a try, one small unsteady step at a time. I hope you do, and thus get to finally see how to manage one day after another. Just remind yourself that one cannot identify people who have Diabetes if and when you come across them. Like wise you don't know who all around you or me has PTSD. As anyone with PTSD knows you feel everyone else can see it in you , but as I said , its invisible just like the disease Diabetes...
an addendum-
what has helped me at the many recurring low points is, if I do something to help others, or to think of some other person who may have worse life events in front if them , mostly beyond their control, of where or how they were born etc . I end up giving to charity , many a time though in small amounts that I can , I do these moments to direct my thoughts to MSF(https://www.doctorswithoutborders.org) give in small amounts as it gives me momentary sense of peace as I feel they are helping those in need in places other charities may not get to.
(by peace crane-3 -12/15/2021)
I wish each of us would opt to reduce our need for more, but we have gone to a 'selfish comfort mode '. We have grown accustomed to our comforts , our enveloping temperatures , our plastic wrappings , our exotic foods from far off places, but as we consume more and more , we tend to want more to consume as we just consume with nary a moment spent to live mindfully even in a half hour period during our days wondering , just on the 'goldilock effect' , mourning the lack of that just so ideal sensory input.
I strive to do a little to reduce my wastes, my carbon foot print, but the vast mammoth prints left all around me by industries and companies ( including those who wink and state their great progress in making a shallower carbon foot print ) just make me disheartened. The awareness that what I do or what we as a family do is less than even a drop in this vast ocean of carbon belchers whose acts just collapse my earth to a path of no return ...it is despair and hopelessness for me . I hold this fantasy that the universe, wakes and the earth will shiver itself to action and then we are left as helpless inconsequential pests, which we have become through all that we call progress. Some times my prayer is "Oh universe, take over please."..
Cassius...a name , a face , a soul,
Above all a person to who has seen you ...
A news item in passing for some,
Sadness in memory for others ,
A human , lost too soon ,
Yet for some just an object...
I see the faces of my genetic future ,
Spread in the sand , just like all of them in all lands ,
Part of breaths that mingled in my air,
And hence close to me , me the human ,
Me , a group of DNA and chromosomes,
No different , yet for the melanine lackers ,
He too was a threat... All around me they growl,
All they see is a threat, our thoughts ,
Our prayers, our food , anything and all,
Just our souls invoke a fear, and they run ,
Threatened by any with souls , or is it just melanine that they fear...
poem by Pc3(11/03/2022)
Today Honor died with a final gasp...
Lays there the ashes of 'being', of all...
Slashed and raped morals smeared across the days ,
Smirking arrogance has sprouted their hopes to rape all...
Lies there thee dead ,oh humanity ,
The soul within you flayed and slaughtered, never to rise ever ... ...
Poem by Pc-3-(06/24/22)
Earth day, another day laid to rest; the skies are loud above us,
Not the screech owl at night, nor the hoof falls or a gallop,
All roar of planes , with war on their minds...
Man and beast, alight beneath, souls that whimper far abound,
Be it Palestine , Jordan, Odessa or Congo,
Be it hutu , tutsi, cherokee or gaurani,
All tears flow slow , pained souls sigh ,
The earth heaves a sigh and all proud men shake ,
For the tears have been rivers , they swell and shake ,
The souls have all sighed, and massed into the howling winds,
Ah , the earth , I too tire at you soulless men, all beasts ...
No soul , no thought ,blind yet they squander,
I too sigh , Oh dear Earth , with you ,
Shudder at the day when you oh dear earth your heaves , sigh and shake....
poem by peace crane -3 (04/22/22)
Fathers, mothers , daughters and sons , they entwined their lives and weaved time ...
Events , they just embellished this weave, some times they encrusted these weaved lives and created little knobs...
In kockanacherry Mark Anthony was told, "you are wasting time". But he knew even then as a third grader,' you never waste time , you create time '.
As he poked at the scurrying beetle and flipped it onto its shiny back and waited for it to turn over , instead of pushing a slate pencil over the scarred grey of the old slate, he just knew ," you never waste time ", so he waited , his intense eyes holding the acrobatic dance of the beetle on its back making trails in the fine soil as time ...
story by peace crane -3 ( 03/25/2021)
I learnt today that bears can get rabies, though rare
And they infect others , or are they rabid dogs in bear garbs?
Some like their rabies, even whiling in the rotted brains,
Soul-less, drunk on power, they roam , until they are done;
Oh if only all rabid ones be done ,
Before they devour those who breathe, snuffing their lives ,
Be it a saffron dog or an orange-head, or any other canine ,
Salivating all with cowardice , soul less power....if only ...
Poem by Pc-3 ( 02/24/2022)
Chaos and confusion reign,
The years held in a drop, they shatter,
Few days more, you hope , but...
If only a magic wand could , just have enough magic...
To change life- ah , confusion and pain, all is chaos,
To change all those years, time itself,
With one swoop...if it could, but...
Blend all realities, all those years,
Hold in a cup, all dreams gone awry,
What neuronal key will lock away ,this enmeshed saga,
Make sense from this mire , of days,
Can we yet fathom what we loose,
Say - to unlock the future, nary a chance until we sleep again,
Dare we tread there except in our dreams...
poem by Pc-3( happened upon it- probably from late 1990s)
Chance brought your wisdom to me ,
When I needed it so urgently,
On the days that I searched, in vain for guidance that seemed too far,
Yet in a library , a book for me , along with those for my children's read...
I took the small book, consolation, I scanned for meaning to my life ,
Words were bound within, my thoughts were hushed ,in chains,
Mind aswirl in soot , calm a mirage yet...
The monk's words soothed, to calm - direction my secret.
Slowly to calm ,to seek a path beyond the chaos surrounds ,
To meditate, to my soul sustenance , to words meaning,
To place beyond me , to the whole , to life form in formless state,
All to chance , some call it fate ,
All life , all chance moments ,
I await for comforting serene moments it brings,
Hope , love , this day, tomorrow, all different facets of the same ,
Peace ,a brief look into time and oneness ...
The universe, time , all merge , all , moves while still into stillness,
To the mind, to life, moments measuring time in this known space....
(poem by -- PC-3, 01/22/2022)
Its hibernation time at last , to yawn, to stretch and to sleep,
Perchance dream big of lands to roam , to own and mark...
Wide skies to growl to , cold air nips at the pores, droops the eyes ;
Sonorous the murmur of breath mixed with the snowy wind,
Yet , the bear stays awake , want to growl , to fight the cold ,
All to lumber and lurch ,one last attempt to mark ,before the new moon ,
Before the dawn of yet another year, to trudge before sleep, roar at the valleys,
Try and shake from Ural to Ukrain ,with hollow sounds that echo, time beckons,
A few may still marvel ,at the might of this dark soul of a bear yet....
(poem by PC-3 -on 12/26/2021)
I had this wonderful idea as i lay there awaiting sleep to grace my night . It is the holiday season, people feel that they need to give back , contribute to charity etc etc....
If only there was a site where we could pay towards enhancing the vaccination all over the world, but i have come to realize that there is no such place or site . I am sure there are a few similar minded people ( like me ) who would like to contribute towards the vaccination against the covid-19 virus , making it a collective humanity effort. May be this is where the UN (United Nations ) as an international inter governmental agency /universal global organization can step in and take the initiative.
I believe that is when our humanity shines brightest when we put in an effort to take care of our fellow beings , those whom we have the opportunity to share this earth with in our short stay here.
But when I look around , I see some of us have only one thought that is " self "...just self interest, negating any awareness that we are ultimately just sharers of this earth along with the others and that we have a responsibility which " being alive" has bestowed on us, ie. to care for the collective , the humanity, and to sustain the nature around us , the earth and the associated areas . But sadly we lack some- that care, so as a first step if we could help at least in the current pandemic 'to care', to help with that first step towards that care , by helping in the global vaccine effort, that will provide meaning for the word 'Christmas season' , as well as meaning to the word ' Human'...
The sun shone on me, but , alas the light had gone dark,
The days stayed long, but , in their hearts all stone,
In the hearts , the blood was red, but soul was naught,
So, our prayers , and they pray too, all prayers rise ,
All to God's who have gone deaf, or blind....
Where humans are beasts and beasts they are,
All with eyes that sees not, all green , cloaked in hate ,
Stones weigh them souls ,the ground shudders,
And trees shield their branches ,sorrow rise from ground to leaves,
The trees , they stand silent ,shocked to stillness....
Yet the Gods , they have been silent too...
Awaiting for man to someday become human...
A long wait that bears heavy on generations' souls,
Waiting , its just been so long, so weary...Oh dear God we are so tired...
So tired of waiting , weary... God where art thou...???
Poem by Pc-3(2021)
The days race , with tasks that pile ,pushing weight of a boulder fresh,
Computers the new rule, strokes set by some remote master ,
Work, job , all just names to endless days unto infinity,
sleep, rest, all just words that now mean non motivated you?
We race ... all against time , forget life is time valued ...
Flushed, rushed ,all to exhaustion, to the the rainbow over the horizon ,
Masters stroke , remote , they ignore, the path littered by gasps of death,
Lost land of souls, we still crawl, unto our death , all lost time just yours and mine ,
Not so to our remote masters , theirs is numbers, wealth, power...
Our lives lay there crumbled to a heap , a heap of humanity wasted,
For all just a pawn to their goal and we all die in a heap,
Our loves, souls, pains all , all just discards before the mighty rules and numbers,
Our worth equates to nothing before the big and powerful, those remote masters...
(by PC3 -06/17/2021)
To remember, is to stop for a moment , to not forget....
The starlings take flight , at dusk, honor those dead,
They lay wreath at the setting sun, their wings carry our prayers
Grief lies before us, in cruelties before my time...
When tears dried before they ever could flow ,
Bewildered souls tried to make sense of days, of life...
I try to , but fail to grasp , of the cold hearts , of mans stone souls;
Of what was , of Sho'ah, of sorrow that can't be held , a sorrow so deep...
My prayers , that's all I have , in my heart...
(-poem by PC3 dated 01/27/2021)
Dawn has kissed the sky , pink over the trees blushes the day,
An owl hoots and another replies ,
Nightly lovers at dawn leave their perch ,
Their wings brush the air, caress the south wind ,
Hope, of warmth and hope itself- is destined
Today the sun dances, branches shiver briefly ;
Theirs a hope for the spring , the warmth;
My heart aflutter to promises of the day , and our tomorrows
Birdsong - prayers to hope , perchance signal to our love aflame ,
On walks ,ours a gladness, joy in opened hearts ,
Hikes, a prayer to the universe ,soon to kiss, masks set down ,
Shared love has quietly grown, blessings set by the universe,
Our destiny , entwined in the stars,
The days await for love and hope , it quietly beckons ...
by pc-3(01/17/20)
Supreme court tolls loud, but who are you ,
Thus to dare so vile , all of power so corrupted,
To give a right to defile , God's own temple?
Who indeed to get numbers up , then again for whom ?
For Satan or at Heaven's gate ?, or Both ??
