Blindness of the Soul

The Blindness of my soul

Tribute to Abraham, Martin and John

There is a dawning within my soul

A ray of light or perhaps the last sliver of hope

A beacon of truth, who has fought its way through,

From youthful days past and decades over due

A dawn where mine eyes can see

Acknowledging all the prejudices I hold

For all those years, the burden inside of me

The blindness of my soul

The learning’s and beliefs engraved

All the falseness’s I detested yet believed

All the lies, all the evils I would take to my grave

The hatred and all the wrongs given to me

Refusing to proclaim, admit or even see

Knowing all those years the perpetrator was me

Too young to see, too blind to know

Too weak to speak mine own beliefs

Yet I always knew the truth from the deceit

I held my blindness close; refusing to let go

I willingly surrendered to the blindness,

The lies, the blindness of my own soul

I believed what I saw in front of me

Not what I knew within myself to be true

Believed in others words and not their deeds

All those years, this blindness harbored inside of me

I hope that I, before growing past my knowing years

Can cure this blindness of my soul, this disease

 Can close mine eyes and begin to see

The dawning of a righteous and noble man

The man, my soul, my conscious

And my God would have me be

28 August 2013

The dreams of dreamers

To dream of what could be . . .

You and I dream every night, even if you believe that you didn't dream last night . . . . you dreamed.

All dreams are ours and ours alone. No one has ever dreamed of what you dreamed of last night. Yes, your dreams are all originals and all yours. Funny, I never thought about our dreams until now. Just knowing that my dreams are shown in the cinema of my mind to an audience of one makes me smile. For I know that I have witnessed the only showing of what could be. What should be and what should never be.

So, knowing that each and every night you and I experience the premier gala of a once in a lifetime dream . . . what now? What do we do with knowledge we have been enlightened with? Do we just file it away in a folder labeled nonsense? Just smile and say to ourselves "What ever"? Or do we take these gifts and share them with the world one person at a time? My answer is always the same. My dreams are the particles of thought that my cognizant mind could never comprehend. They are pieces of a puzzle of what I am suppose to do with my finite life. My dreams send me chasing rainbows that smile, love without fences and the story about a two year girl who loves toasted tigers with butter. I told you dreams are personalized to the dreamer.

Dreams are knocks upon the door of a higher consciousness. As in meditation. If we allow our dreams to enter into our doorway of conscious thought . . . . well, who knows where we will end up. I believe we will end up exactly where we were meant to be.

Example: The theory of Relativity by Albert Einstein was a dream, no one else had the exact dream but him. He could have left it in dreamland or he could take that idea into the consciousness of his mind and share his idea with the world. Do you see what I am painting here? Your dreams are tomorrows miracles.

Without the dreams of dreamers we are doomed to live life as it was the day before. 

Some people called John Lennon a dreamer . . . . They were all exactly correct! The world is a better place, for John Lennon knew he just had to share his dreams with all the world. Not for his own gain but for the world to be a better place for all the people.

Some dreams are legendary

John Lennon, self portrait

Painting, Afternoon Dreaming by Hughes Merle

Arlington National Cemetery, Section 7A Grave 138

Robert "Bob" Howard 1939 - 2009

Every time I see his face, mine eyes begin to water and I feel that lump in my throat. I just stare at the photo and I thank God for this old out spoken man. I recall the videos of him yelling at a bunch of young men, telling them to do the right thing, always and in all ways. In others he can be seen talking and smiling with the same young men thousands of miles from their home, giving advice and encouragement. He is not a preacher, no he speaks from experience. In the days gone by, he would have made the Spartans turn green with envy. Rome would have given his weight in gold to have him for their own. For he was a leader, a friend and a true warrior in every aspect of the definition, no matter which language one would seek the definition.

"Any nation that does not honor its heroes will not long endure"- Abraham Lincoln

He was born July 11, 1939 in Opelika, Alabama, and served in the Army from 1956 to 1992. He served five tours in Vietnam and was a Sergeant First Class in the Special Forces on December 30, 1968 when he rallied his troops against 250 enemy soldiers despite being outnumbered and unable to walk himself. He was injured from grenade blasts and he was still the last man to board the helicopter out of there.

He was nominated for the Medal of Honor, the highest honor for valor, three times during a 13-month period. An American can only be awarded one Medal of Honor. His long list of awards also included the Distinguished Service Cross, the Silver Star and eight Purple Hearts. Bob was wounded 14 times in 54 months of combat duty in Vietnam. He earned eight wounded in combat medals, eight Purple hearts.

President Nixon awarded Bob the Congressional Medal of Honor in 1971. The citations reads . . . .

 "For 31⁄2 hours 1st Lt. Howard's small force and supporting aircraft successfully repulsed enemy attacks and finally were in sufficient control to permit the landing of rescue helicopters. 1st Lt. Howard personally supervised the loading of his men and did not leave the bullet-swept landing zone until all were aboard safely. 1st Lt. Howard's gallantry in action, his complete devotion to the welfare of his men at the risk of his life were in keeping with the highest traditions of the military service and reflect great credit on himself, his unit, and the U.S. Army."

After Bob Howard retired he never stopped encouraging the troops at home or abroad. It was cancer that fell this man, the man the enemy could never kill.

The next time you need a little encouragement, check out that old man, Col. Robert "Bob" Howard, and watch the videos of the man who never surrendered.

Quoting Brian Williams of NBC. his description of Col. Bob Howard, "the toughest American alive when he was among us."

The man lies in Arlington National Cemetery, Section 7A Grave 138, still providing courage to all who stop to visit with him.

"Hard times ask us to put a greater good before our own interests. It is sometimes physically or emotionally painful. Yet throughout history, you will find common men and women who fought selflessly in a variety of ways for something so much larger than just their own benefit." 

Col. Robert "Bob" Howard, US Army Retired

I hope to see you there.

http://www.nowpublic.com/world/bob-howard-medal-honor-winner-vietnam-veteran-dies-70-2544105.html#ixzz2bkqCvg6u

My mind has been thinking about me

Some evenings are better than the others, some stay well past their welcome. Sleep is just a dream, at times, and I am still daydreaming of the days moments well into the night. I wish I could sleep, I wish I might one day, dream the whole day and night away with eyes closed, for once. My nonsleepable status is due to my mind is always thinking of ideas and what could be. Tonight I am a little off course for you see, my mind has been thinking about me. I catch myself thinking about my mind wondering about me. I overhear the conversation of two persons speaking of each others thoughts and dreams. My mind is always thinking about why I do the all the crazy things I do. I offer my point of view and retort.

You know what I am thinking so why are we having this talk? 

Mad I am not. I am simply making the observation that we are self aware. Your mind can and does "think" about you. There are volumes of thoughts being processed and reviewed every second of our lives. We sleep to give or minds a little catch up time. When you evaluate two sides of a argument, you hold two opposing views. Simple, right? Not to the logical left side of your brain. Remember it only sees in two dimensional thought, right or wrong. So to evaluate two opposing viewpoints and believe them both to be true is utter madness to your logical mind and heavenly music to the imaginative right brain. 

Now, that you have the picture of whats happening when we try to understand others points of views . . . . consider this little tid bit . . . . our minds only allow us to know what we need to know. All the other processes and reasoning is subsurface of our conscious awareness. And just what is going on down there? Who is saying what about whom?

That is why I know my mind has been thinking of me. 

Thinking that I think too much. 

This time I will have to agree.

After the thrill is Gone

Any kind of love without passion

That ain't no kind of lovin' at all, well

Same dances in the same old shoes

You get too careful with the steps you choose

you don't care about winning but you don't want to lose

After the thrill is gone

Yes, we have all been there, after the thrill is gone . . . .

" I describe it as Compatatational suicide, Wanton Domestic Seperationism, Marital Blisslessness and sometimes Extreme Companionshiplessnessism. Maybe, it’s just a big ole helping of “What about Me-ism”. If you are unfamiliar with the fore mentioned terminology. Allow me to explain. I keep a unique and very specialized dictionary next to my bed. I read once that the good Doctor of children’s stories possessed one, so I acquired one too! I’m not sure where or when I apprehended mine. My dictionary contains, alphabetically of course, all the words that never were but really should be. Kind of a long title, but Man is it handy. When I need a word that does not exist, I simply look it up. I have included the definitions below for the words above from the dictionary I keep next to my bed.

Wanton Domestic Seperationism; An awaking and cognizant act of admitting to one’s self, that you may be the only sane person in this relationship. Followed by late night secretive scheming and detailed planning of your escape back to the realm of Reality, Nil Desperandum! (Page 238)

Compatatational suicide; Knowing that you are consciously driving your lover crazy. A willingness to do something that will impale a grave wedge into the very heart of your closeness. Taking one for granted for far too long, followed by an unconscious willingness not to care. (Page 46)

Marital Blisslessness; The absence of marital bliss. That lonely feeling experienced while sleeping next to the love of a lifetime and feeling utterly alone, once again. Usually followed by claiming squatter’s rights to both the remote and the living room couch, all night, every night, forever. Amen. (Page 153)

Extreme Companionshiplessnessism; when the term “together” does not include your significant other. It does include the kids and some family pets. The act of being companionless, even when you hold your life’s partner close to you. Followed very closely by a nervous trip to the local divorce attorney. (Page 71)

Rut-a-tation factor; a rating of just how lonely you are standing next to your significant other. Rut-a-tation is a phenomenon that occurs in relationships sinking from the excess baggage of Taken-for-grantedism, competition, and the awkward realization that you do not really know your lover, anymore, at all. (Page 208)

What about Me-ism; An extremely crippling disease that occurs when you become the center of the known universe and you are continually upset about how others are unable or unwilling to verify this universally known fact to you, each and every day! Oh and everybody else’s problems are just that. Their problems, you need to talk about yours, now! (Page 257)"


But now I know better. The thrill of loving someone is a constant in my life and that has made all the difference in the world and in me.


"After the Thrill Is Gone" as written by Don Henley, Glenn Lewis Frey
Quoted text from Universe of Two, Book one, DA Keene

What do you see?

The Great Wave off Kanagawa

What do you see in the wood block print above? Take a moment and look closely. Now, what do you see?

Funny, how our eyes are drawn to the prominent point of a picture. Like a small piece of white paper on a lawn of emerald green. We see what is unexpected first, then we see what is really there. Evolution has trained us well. Mother nature has taught us to on our guard for what appears to be out of place. Maybe a predator in the tall grass, a misplaced word in a conversation or even a shadow upon a wall. And all this cautionary behavior is inbred in our very genome. We look for the prominent point and for what appears to be unusual. 

Sometimes I feel that we judge others in the same light. We notice the prominent features of their physical forms and then inspect their "look" and their words for anything suspicious. "Better safe than sorry." "All people are bad, in some form. If they don't look like me, well . . . ."

The translated title of the 1833 Japanese wood block print above is Under a Wave off Kanagawa. It is from a series of prints entitled The thirty-six views of Mount Fuji. You did see Mount Fuji in the print, didn't you?

Maybe, if we look closely at first. We can see what is really there.

Unspoken words

“Unlived moments and unspoken words make for good bedfellows.” 

I was talking with a friend of mine, we were once close but life and father time had separated us like a letter and a letter writer. We were discussing all the moments when we should have spoken up, spoken up and told someone how we felt. The conversation went something like this . . . .

“I have a treasury of unspoken words. I have the words in nice, little neat folders, labeled by name and crossed referenced by events in my life. I recall these words every time I think of someone who made a difference in my life. Sometimes, I recall them when I hear their name, see their face or just close my eyes. I would wager, heavily, that you too have a treasury of unspoken words.” I had to agree. Yes, I have many unspoken words that are slumbering the years away.”  And with a smarty pants look slapped upon her face, she stated “I am making withdraws from my personal treasury. I am delivering my unspoken words to the rightful owner. Soon, I hope to check the mailbox and find an overdrawn notice from the treasury of my heart. I hope to locate and deliver to the owner each and every single word, sentence, phrase, emotion and feeling that I have been holding against their will, all these years. Yes, I hope to be notified that I have exhausted all deposits to my treasury. I can only imagine how wonderful I will feel simply reading the phrase, “We regret to inform you that you are overdrawn” or even better “You have a balance of zero words you never spoke”. I better get busy, for I have a lot of words not to speak.  I think we should both get busy, my friend, what say you?” I replied with a simple nod of my head, yes.

My friend continued . . . . 

”Unspoken words seem to have very sharp edges. They seem to enjoy carving their initials upon the walls of my heart. These unspoken words are a painful reminder of what I should have said. I should have presented these words to whom they belong. I somehow feel the sharp edges are a reminder that my life’s work is incomplete. These words need to be spoken to and presented to another, as one would a gift. For these words are meant for the one soul, the one soul for whom they were felt, meant for and composed especially for. It is unforgivable to hold these words against their will. I should put forth the effort to take them home, home to where they belong. Most of the carvings are simple little phrases like “I love you, too” and “I am sorry”. Simple, tiny sentences that are forever doomed to be my eternal companion. I spell companion in this manner, c-o-m-p-a-i-n-i-o-n. That is what they really are, an eternal pain in my heart. I will need to complete my life’s work, soon, for these words have grown restless and are scheming to revolt against my ignorance of true love’s ways. I can no longer restrain these words here within myself. I will have to set them free, for they truly belong to another. To hold these words against their will would be a travesty of true love’s ways and that I will not do, any longer. All my unspoken words, shall be free. For this I will do.”

I thought to myself . . . .

Oh my, my . . . . she has once again taught me that I need to rethink the very beliefs I knew to be true. Unspoken words, hummmmmm . . . I believe I will sign up with this wise friend of mine and begin my own withdrawals today. I have far too many words that I have foolishly left unspoken. Maybe you too have unspoken words, longing to be heard. I feel as if I am a thief, for I have stolen these memorable moments from my friends and lovers to whom these unspoken words belong. I must try to repay my debt to true love’s ways and give to my friends and lovers all that is rightfully theirs.  I don’t want to keep them within myself any longer, for they belong to another and I am guilty of stealing all those lost moments away from them. 

How do you plead, my friend? Guilty in the first degree?  Yeah, me too.

Picture, couple talking, http://solidgoldcreativity.com/tag/communication/

Quoted text from Universe of two, book one, by DA Keene 2013