About this user
email: manolop3@yahoo.com
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Interest, personal experiences, and studies in psychology, philosophy, art, poetry, war.
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I know no war is good. Whether it be justified by man or not. For in all wars children are killed. And those children that live through it must rectify the damage to the mind, and to the heart.
I know no war is good. Whether it also be necessary or not. For monstrosities happen in all wars. Those things only imagined, and some not even imagined.
And some of you that joyfully cheer war, or tactically support it, would lay down in abject fear and resignation if you were truly touched by it; If it was fought in your own streets; If your own children experienced it; If you knew true, only those passing thoughts, of war's monstrosities.
It is a testament to human will, or needful self deception, that most overcome being touched by war. We will probably always make wars against each other. For they are an extension of the wars we fight within ourselves.
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As for me:
With all the things I've seen and felt
I fear no man nor beast. I only fear myself.
I am my only enemy.
The only one that can defeat myself.
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I only have this moment. This moment is my now.
I only have this moment. This moment is my now.
I will live in this moment. This is my only now.
And what is this moment ?
What is this now?
I am this now. I am this moment.
I am here in this now.
Am I my breath in this now?
Am I my heart in this now?
Am I this thought in this now?
I am now.
I am only this.
I am nothing right now...
What are you?
-you..
What are you?
-mu.
...
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Protect the core and I will hold true. I will not wreck asunder in the tides and wakes of mind or men.
Or realize there is no core. There is no you.
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.
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waves:
Surrfing the edges of the manic sea,
in waves of manic dance,
through pulls of manic tides-
I vibrate as the wind.
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An aired expressed, and unexpressed;
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To feel an awing breath
To touch a calming wind
To see a laughing look
And in that breath
And in that wind
And in that look
.
.
.
.
Para oir en una pequeña
palabra,
o ver en una dulce
mirada,
o sentir en una suave
tocada,
o saber en una linda
besada,
algo de ti.
Sólo este pensamiento de ti,
me da alegria,
A mi.
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I am a hypothalamus, hear my roar:
My name is anterior cingulate;
Your name is posterior cingulate;
Together we are Mr and Mrs limbic.
An amygdala comes, and knocks on our door
and cries: What the hell was that roar?
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A poem finds
A poem seeks
A poem looks
And in that seek
.
.
.
.
.
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A few favorite things(besides raindrops on roses and whiskers on kittens) : meditation, books, soccer, horses, good dogs, Stolichnaya vodka, van Gogh, tattoos, the smell of a woman's hair, Daffy Duck, the Balisong knife, the AK-47.
