mermaidcamp
Keeping current in wellness, in and out of the water
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You can scroll the shelf using ← and → keys
When history is reviewed in full and we need to name us
The most outrageous public acts throughout the ages
Time will tell who will become the most famous ignoramus
Each era sees the living proof politics are a scary spoof
Only in retrospect will we be able to judge all presidents
Warriors, princes, rebels and kings against all other things
My poem today is inspired by a letter written by Jean-Paul Sartre that contains wisdom I appreciate written in a way I adore:
My dear,
There may be more beautiful times, but this one is ours.
Look back, look forth, look close, there may be more prosperous times, more intelligent times, more spiritual times, more magical times, and more happy times, but this one, this small moment in the history of the universe, this is ours.
And let’s do everything with it. Everything.
Falsely yours,
Jean-Paul Charles Aymard Sartre
Read other poetry at the #NaPoWriMo site and on social media by using these hashtags: Enjoy this month long celebration by finding new poets.
There is one safeguard known generally to the wise, which is an advantage and security to all – suspicion. –Demosthenes
How can we cultivate a healthy sense of disrespect and suspicion that is mindful of and careful with the opinions of others? We see no mature examples set by politicians. Religious leaders all teach healthy disrespect for worldly authority. Some religions teach that all worldly authority is to be shunned because of the wicked nature of it. The nuns on the bus dissing the Pope showed healthy suspicion of politicians trashing the poor to be elected by the rich. There was a saying that resonated back in the hippie world. “You are either on the bus or off the bus.” The phrase came from the book The Electric Acid Kool-Aid Test by Tom Wolfe. We also talked constantly about revolution, and the end of the empire. Bob Dylan, The Dead, Angela Davis, Black Panthers, SDS….. it was all very meaningful….and then it faded like morning dew in a folk song. Perhaps these nuns were hippies who never lost the baby faith.