The Good Realities

Blog, today

Today evening I went to meet a friend of mine. A lady, I admire and respect a great deal and have long conversations with, over just about everything. As we sat talking about current grim realities, things that have really been playing on my mind, (news of war and turmoil, the chance of a power blackout for which our homes are unprepared for, doubling-tripling-quadrupling prices that are leaving many families quite stranded with winter already here, a sense of doom, etc., etc.), she came up with a powerfully inspiring idea that I’m putting into reality here.

A journal of a ‘good’ realities.
One happy thing that actually happened in my life today.

Why is it so easy to not acknowledge the good realities, to not make more of happy things that happen to us?

Maybe because happiness is our natural state of being. And so it’s taken for granted. Letting unhappy worries crowd our minds.

Well, for me her idea of this record of happiness is a big uplifter. The happy thing that happened to me today. And I’m going to try and keep a daily record.
If you like it too, join me … it’s literally the more the merrier!

Journeys of the mind

Poetry

Where does your mind go 
When it's just wandering around?
What sights come forward?
What fragrances, what sounds?
 
Do you go backwards 
into times before?
Wish they were reality
as they once were. 
 
Or do you dream forward?
Wishes not yet met.
Make plans of their coming true.
How would it be if it was that?
 
How happy are you 
when your mind wanders off?
Does it journey into joy
or into anxiety or pain?
 
Journeys of the mind. 
Battles we fight.
No one else knows 
how hard is the strife.
 
Do you speak of your fears
With someone you trust
Or stay silent and conquer 
With self power alone?
 
Where does your mind go 
when it's just wandering around?
What sights come forward?
What fragrances, what sounds?

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One night in Vienna

Poetry

It happens every night
but one night I was also there.
To see the magic of the lights
As they lit up the Cathedral square. 
 
After dark, when night had fallen,
in the forests and the mountains.
The city hums an enchanted air
under street lights and every corner.
 
Cars whizzed past to unknown places.
Their smoky tail-lights blazing red.
Buildings stand behind in their splendour
Electric blue or Grün or Gelb.


A magical city
The ancient Vindobona
And me, 
one night in Vienna.

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Uncertain times

Poetry

Stay silent. Watch.
The crowds bray for blood.
One by one they come
for everyone.

The good, 
the noble 
and the brave. 
All those who choose to rise above. 

Speaking out now,
is in vain
They hear not. 
All they know is hate. 


They know not what it takes to build. 
To grow
To love
To learn new things.


So closed is their mind
So small their life 
Anyone who is not a clone of them
Is an enemy of the State. 

Presstitute and sickular, 
they crow in glee
Words they think are very smart.


Can they ever learn 
Secular
The nobility of the real word?

Then how can you expect 
Them to understand?

And  the crowds that bray for blood
One by one they turn
on everyone.

Their need is to have someone to hate. 
Anyone will do.
No matter who.  


Stay silent. Watch.
And wait a better time. 
Some day their hate will turn on themselves

Then your aggressor now
might even be the crowd’s target next.

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Thought of the day

Poetry

Leave a sign behind
don't just go.
Without a trace that you were here.
Let that mark be, one of good.
Giving strength 
to all who come from far and near.
 
Leave thoughts that build.
Deeds done that inspire.
Be a force that binds,
those who are coming behind.
 
But if you can't do as above,
then gently go.
Quiet.
Without a sign.
Break not what you have not created
Create not that in turn will divide.
 
Tread your path.
As we each must do
(be it alone, or together)
Let it lead towards the light
For darkness, is not the path to follow.
 
 I'm preaching 
Yes, and I apologise!
These times are such.
With much food for thought.
 
When you see a world you love
Hurting and broken 
In turmoil so unjust.
The mind wonders what needs be done.
Deeds that heal.
That 'humane' touch

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Choices

Poetry

In my mind,
in my hands,
is the power to create.
And the power to destroy.

What I choose to do
makes me the person I am.

Centuries after centuries
Cultures and religions
Languages spoken,
foods cooked and eaten.

In all relations,
do you make something?
Or leave something broken?

Call it good and evil.
Call it right and wrong.
Call it what you will.
But that’s the one truth,
that applies to us all.

Follow this principle
and you‘ll identify truth from false.

Who talks of growth,
upliftment,
and room for all?

Who talks of fear,
conspiracies
enemies in each unknown?

Choose wisely
and hold firm this single truth.
Inclusion wins.
As does good.

Tell me now
Which will you choose?

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Thoughts while cooking

Poetry

As i stand in my kitchen,
cooking dinner for tonight.
Fresh and warm and nourishing,
comforting fragrant and so calming.

I think of women just like me.
Hiding underground, surrounded by family.
As above ring out the sirens.
Children cry in the darkness.

Whose is this war?
Why is it happening? 
So much power in one man‘s hands. 
What is man and what is mankind?

Rather what kind of man would cause this misery?
Is a man still a man if he goes against humanity? 

21 centuries and more in fact,
but civilization is still held hostage. 

Never learning, 
the biggest lesson learnt after invasions,
that a war solves few, 
if any, problems.
 
Dinner cooked, i check the seasoning,
thinking of people tonight going hungry. 
Brave people fighting to defend their country.
Heroes  every one of them. 

Honour goes to those who show bravery.
Those who build something, 
create peace and beauty.

Not to crazies wanting glory 
And destroying instead fragile humanity.

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Life 2020-21

Poetry

Empty cities.
Deserted towns.
Where have all the people gone?

A tiny virus.
The mighty man.
Locked into 
a game of life and death.

The way of life 
we grew up to.
Social animal
that’s what we were.

Now ‘social’ 
is from a distance
No hugs. No kisses. 
Sometimes not even visits.

No one knows how long
this state will last,
But that warm hug 
I miss it.

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This addiction of mine

Poetry

I'm addicted to light. 
To colours and sounds.
The magic they play
Within and without.

I'm addicted to sunrises
Peaches and pinks
From snowy mountain tops
And deep quiet lakes.

When outdoors in nature,
and sunset light slants down.
Between trees so straight 
Growing up tall.

Or in big cities between buildings, 
this golden light falls.
Makes magic one moment,
then fades and is gone.

Mighty tall buildings
With glass windows that shine
To the light of the sun
and the street lamps at night.

The sounds of flowing water, 
birds twittering loud.
Hearing people’s laughter and talk.
It’s good to be alive 
To experience this all.

Walking amidst people
or on forest paths alone.
Immersed in the moment,
it’s sights, smells and sounds.

Addicted and lost
It's me that I found.

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