(Philosophy Poem) Were We Ever Really Here, Did We Really Ever Live?

WERE WE EVER REALLY HERE, DID WE REALLY EVER LIVE?

 

I started to ask the question yet what will people think

Now that our last breath has left this, our physical host

Would we really be surprised if no one cared or came

Is it just a cold hard reality for some point and time for all

Once gone from here will anyone ever think again of our face

Will there be those of our own blood glad that we are gone

 

Mistakes we have made in our days that have passed

Separated by so many miles and ever precious time

Family blood is a bond no time nor human can break

Will we be remembered as one whom gave a damn

Did you find your partner, the one who loved you back

Find our peace with God, or spouse and home we lost

Will our bodies even be allowed a formal resting place

 

All the bad things we have done, it’s all just history now

There isn’t a pretty answer, just the cold hard fact we die

Ole’ French King Louie whom said “after me the deluge”

Will we all be just a vapor just like King Louie’s last draw

We are all but a grain of sand beneath the oceans of time

Love the Lord, obey your wife, always take your Mom’s call

Pray when we are gone that someone still smiles at our name

(Spiritual Poem) Kodak Moment Of The Soul

KODAK MOMENT OF THE SOUL

 

Snap shot of our Souls taken this moment in our time

Picture taken, was it by the Angel of Death, or of life

People scan our chips so they say that they know us

Smiling eyes hiding in the shadows blade firmly in hand

Having a phony acidic smile pasted on their soulless grin

 

 

We have all chosen to be breathing in this time and space

Our future is now, last breath taken is now historically placed

Tomorrow is grace filled if inside ourselves we choose it to be

Take your mirror, look close, it shows our Souls hiding place

 

 

Ever been ashamed to your bones for things you’ve done

This point in time, this is the only guarantee that we have

Tomorrow, will we have respect or shame for our today

Will this snap shot of today define or end our tomorrows

X-ray of our Soul, will it be posted with a Halo of a Flame

(Philosophy Poem) Today Is The Past: As We Breathe It

TODAY IS THE PAST: AS WE BREATHE IT

 

To the days that have passed, with us along for the ride

A salute to all of our yesterdays, with our smiles up or down

Spend little time on the stripes received, that we’ve not earned

Smiles on faces seen, but on some, with time, names forgotten

One’s own bed, finally peaceful, quiet, snuggle in, smile, cry, pray

Loved ones, one by one, through time, left our arms, not our hearts

 

 

Snapshots of peaceful times, some on mind, some caught on print

Years gone by, do our memories really fade, like the whisper of time

Patriarch in your forties, not something ever longed for, or wished to see

Our children, and now theirs grownup, to ignore that we ever breathed

Things we have done wrong, own them, sometimes, some peace will be

Yesterdays ill’s, we can’t hit replay, change mistakes or the hearts broken

 

 

History is today, don’t be the butt of tomorrows viral You Tube jokes

Yesterday is now our past, good or bad it’s over, now breathe, it’s gone

Mistakes can haunt the human brain till we let them put us in a grave

Tomorrow we all could be dancing on the stair well to Heaven with Angels

The bliss we seek depends on today, not the shadows of our past, unchangeable

We all choose our path, today and tomorrow will soon for all, be our past

(Parable Poem) 7 Short Thoughts Too Ponder

 

Is there such a thing, as a perfect rest

Is there such a thing as a restful peace

 

Can someone have love without passion, or name

Can someone have true passion with a hate-filled mate

 

Is love really a true passion of the heart

Or is the heart really just a passionless pit of darkness

 

Is God’s grace given only to the sinful few

Or is it only the sinful whom give others no grace

 

The first time that you were ever grabbed and kissed, so nice

In the twilight of our time do we still smile inside at the thought

 

Hormones and dreams, with them almost all rushed through our teens

Will our grandchildren have doable dreams, or like hormones just work, then die

 

The greatest generation alive, baby boomers, their parents, X, Y, and Z

The greatest day in history is now, please, open up your eyes, now breathe!

 

(Philosophy Poem) Live Until You Die

LIVE UNTIL YOU DIE

 

 

What price do we put on our days

We all toil we labor and we sweat

Heartbeats given cannot be re-gotten

Youth like life itself quickly fades away

 

Old man, shakes from life’s lessons received

Bodies will age yet the mind keeps deep dreams

Memories both good and bad linger in the gray

Rocking in our chairs, what will our memories be

 

Doctor tells you it’s a short time till you die

Do you ever wonder if in this life you ever lived

If tonight we leave will anyone notice we’re gone

Life is up too one’s own inner circle of the mind

 

Live your life, breathe the fresh air of your psychological freedom

Governments and employers may rule our bones, but never our Souls

The Comforter within liquidates the stress lain upon us so we can live

Enjoy your freedom, breathe the fresh air, live all the life that you can

 

Dirt baths are a race that none of us will win in the end for the end is the end

Laid in the dirt it is over, no more chances to frolic with our children, or theirs

What will it really matter that we spent our life toiling as you and I have done

Our history flies by us, what can we say we did today, if tonight this life ends

 

 

So, Racca Syria Is Free Of ISIS: Now What? What Has Been Won? What Has Been Lost

So, Racca Syria Is Free Of ISIS: Now What? What Has Been Won? What Has Been Lost?

 

It is not easy to choose a starting point from the anneals of time when the subject matter is the Ancient City of Racca Syria. Here in the U.S. we tend to think that something from the 1800’s is old and something pre Columbus is ancient history. I chose to start this article in the year of our Lord 639 A.D.. Think about it for a moment, this is more than 1,000 years before the birth of George Washington.

 

I am not going to try to turn this article to you into some type of a history lesson. To be able to catch the essence and history of Racca would take Albums, not paragraphs. In 639 an Islamic Army took the city. Folks, that’s 1,378 years ago. This tidbit of information is for those who are new to the subject as this event happened 1,137 before the Americans signed the Declaration of Independence in 1776. Folks, Racca was on the “World Heritage Site” list. Racca was a huge piece of human history, now it is gone. Now, what do the teachers of these next few generations teach to these children? What is their History now? I guess their history will have to be broken into the ‘before Revolution, and after Revolution’ segments. What horrible history we leave onto our children as each generation only gets harder on those entering it. How can some deny that depression is the young with no hope of survival and the old who quietly await their own death?

 

Since Christ walked the Earth 2,000 years ago I wonder, how many people have died within 10 square miles of the city of Racca? Just in this past 6+ years, how many? Folks this is sickness, this is madness, how much blood must be spilled? The sad answer to this question is, there is no end, some are simply enraged with hate. The latest emblem of this hate is called ISIS, Daesh and a few other local names. Racca was the Capital City of ISIS new Caliphate, now it is not. Now the (SDF) (Syrian Democratic Forces) backed by U.S. Special Forces have taken control of all of Racca.

 

My question to you today is simple, have you seen the before and after pictures of cities like Racca Syria where Culture had flourished over about 1,400 years? World Heritage Site folks, now it is but rubble. Now that ‘our’ forces who control Racca are anti Syrian Government, how do things get any better here? The Kurdish people who are spear heading this ‘SDF’ have already been back stabbed by the American government once this week on their voting issue. Now, for the Americans to continue to be involved they would have to come into direct contact with the Syrian government forces and the forces of Russia, Iran and even Iraqi soldiers. So, we leave this pile of rubble over to the Syrian Government without a fight and request that our Kurdish ‘Friends’ do the same, without a fight, or the U.S. will desert the Kurdish people once again, leaving them to be slaughtered by the Syrians, Russians and Iranians.

 

Whom ever comes out the Ruler of this region of the world ‘Racca’, has no chance of being what it was before 2010, ever. The beauty it once had is gone, now it is only in memories and old pictures. So folks, now what? I believe that the end result is that Racca will remain as part of Syria for the foreseeable future. Yet even if Russia, Iran the E.U. or even the U.S., became Landlords of the Racca area, how do you rebuild it now? Your people need jobs, the Governments must step up with trillions of dollars to rebuild their own infrastructure from the ground up. They must employ their citizens, have them doing the rebuilding of their own homes, their won businesses, their own Stores. The rest of the world cannot ignore the great chance for investment, even if it is only available to companies of Islamic Culture. Then I still ask you, the people who care about Racca and who can afford to, please try to help the people who have been stuck there for the past few years. To my way of thinking Racca should be at least as important to the Islamic Nations as Puerto Rico would be if decimated by a powerful Hurricane. What this means to the people and what it means to a government is normally two different Creatures aren’t they? For any quality of life to exist there again, all sides who care will be working together for the good of all, or they with will die together, by the thousands. So, is there hope, for rebuilding Racca? We shall see what we shall see is what a good friend used to say. Today’s time is tomorrows history.

 

 

 

 

(History/Poem): Spearfish South Dakota

Spearfish South Dakota

 

What an odd name, ye may think of me

But for a lack of luck ye all would know me

Maybe my name would be steeped in lore

In our Country’s Great Plains fabled history

 

Black Hills Dakota, land of the Great Sioux Nation, gold, and blood

Deadwood you know, Bill Hickok dying in blood with his famous hand

Crazy Horse, an outcast child because he cried when bees spilt his blood

Custer and the Seventh etched in history, paying for their genocidal sins

 

I’m in the center of timber and gold

All around me is glory and fame

The great mighty Sioux Nation

And the tears that they paid

 

Now only grade school books tell my story

Come visit the Little Big Horn Custer’s Last Stand

Rapid City now a main gate to the great northwest

Four faces carved in stone, a true monument

 

I stand true to the blood of those who bore me

 Shrouded in the famous Black Hills history

Sturgis’s freedom now rumbles right next to me

Spearfish South Dakota, Paradise of God, then and now

(History Philosophy/Poem) In My Time — A Odd And Unique Story Of My Life

In My Time—-My First Ever Post Revisited

 

I was just going through some of my data and I went back to my first ever post, I like it pretty well so I brought it up from the grave to you, for your consideration to see what you folks think of it. Basically this is a story of my life, it is a story filled with the good the bad the ugly the odd the strange, the spiritual and the evil. By no means am I perfect, I have had more flaws than I could possibly remember or count. I have tried to put this story into the form of a poem, hopefully it will tweak your interest some, who knows, it may give you a few moments of humor.   T.R.S.

 

O Lord, the things I have seen in the days I have been given

O Lord, the things by your grace to me You have shown me

South-West Virginia and Your beautiful Blue Ridge Mountains

Iron Ridge culture, hard-working poor white trash, 1950’s

 

 

“I’m going to start remembering now”

These, the first words I ever remember

Spoken aloud, words from within my own soul

Inner words, everyone has a soul, I know They speak to us all

 

 

Placed all the rooms in our little home, which I still remember

Outside, counted all the concrete blocks front stoop to back yard

Two years old, friends how do we do and know such things as this

Born with math skills, but look at Mozart what at three he could play

 

 

Summer time, setting on the front porch, my two siblings by my side

Walk across the dirt road to the old dilapidated wood cattle gate

Sunny day, watching the cattle milling around on the other side

Mom gave us each a nickel for us a Coke to buy, a great treat at the time

Walked to the Shell filling station just below this house that sheltered five

 

 

O how hard it was on Mom, alcoholic Dad drinking his wages away

Minimum wage factories, workers just chafe on the rich mans floor

I guess it’s easier on the preschool children, the caste they don’t know

School starts, you see other children, realities you had not seen before

 

 

Mid 1960’s, poor flight to west, a better life you’re hoping for

You trade the Blue Ridge for the Great Sioux’s Black Hills

O Lord, on at trip like this, the things a child’s eyes ingest

Moon light shines, illuminates the beauty of the big rigs

 

 

August Rattle Snakes playing in the sand, 114 degrees in the shade

30 days later, chest high snow in September, O what a strange place

One year later, hoping for better, for a good job toward Windy we ran

When you are so poor, you spend your whole life trying to escape it

But even young, I knew that pain, always present in my Mamma’s eyes

 

 

Life is always hard with an alcohol disease riddled parent in the home

Knowing you are hated as he beats you with glee, innocent meaningless

Even harder on the child when they know other adults know and see

They never ever come to your aid, they always just allowed it to be

Life’s early hardships, good or bad, they help create the person you see

 

 

About fifth grade I walked through the door of Your House Lord

My life long rock, my life many times I know that You have saved

Poor white boy, learning of life in the mid-west, with a Hill Billy mind

With some knowledge of Dakota’s history and beautiful Black Hills

 

 

These life’s lessons, good and bad, always living behind my eyes

Now I am aged with gray beard and store-bought eyes on my face

The projector in my mind plays me many memories of my time

Occasionally I see some of the good I have done in this my life

Though I try to cull these pictures from the corners of my mind

A lofty heart leads to evil, I wish to give ego no quarters to hide

 

 

In my life I have mastered the art of many forms of evils

O how I wish I could say that these thing were  just a lie

But when you have seen and have known pure evil in life

Pay some attention to the news, evil all around us resides

 

 

Demons have no fear of man, they will lie, looking you in the eyes

They will tell you they are Angels, for your best interest they care

Do not be deceived, mainly in the worlds Capitals they often hide

Through time Lord You have shown me many things, good and bad

 

 

Through Your Spirit You have given me sight beyond my dreams

In life it is so easy to become depressed if living without You inside

You have so plainly shown me our planets plight’s and our demise

World leaders and the media so filled with venom to Your light

Evil so blinded and hungry for more power, money, and pride

 

 

I know that by the time Your trumpet sounds Lord

I will once again be dust upon and within the ground

Though I cringe for all our children, and theirs

The battle of the Nations against their Creator

For left behind loved ones, Armageddon lies ahead

 

 

As the Lord and His Angels return to fight from the clouds overhead

The Demons pre-judged, to Hell they will now be thrown in first

Leaving the poor defrauded people to fight God and His Angels alone

They are now like grapes in the press, confused, disillusioned, and dead

Lord I thank You that this event I will not have to see, “In My Time”

Under A Mountain Range In Virginia, An Old Nuclear Bunker Now Houses Explosive Cinematic History

 

Nov 2, 2016 George Winston

The building perched in the foothills of Virginia’s Blue Ridge Mountains, designed to protect the president and $4 billion dollars in gold in case of a nuclear fallout during the Cold War, is put to new use: archiving old films with explosive properties.

A video, recently released by Great Big Story, tours the facility that houses 6.3 million items of cinematic history ranging from Adam Sandler movies to Frankenstein.

A substantial number of the films were made on nitrate film which has the same chemical footprint as gunpowder: extremely flammable and hazardous. They are kept in thick-walled vaults to not only protect the building but also other nitrate films.

Walking down a corridor takes a person past many vaults. There are 124 of them, part of the complex which is the Library of Congress’s film headquarters.

George Willeman’s job is to work with the most volatile films in the storage facility, including the nitrate-based films.

Willeman describes a nitrate fire as being similar to a controlled explosion or a rocket taking off. Willeman works with more than 140,000 films.

The center also has a room dedicated to conserving old films in various conditions from around the country discovered in basements, attics, and barns.

A large number of them have no value, but they are part of the historical record with some 100-years-old. The building also has a viewing room with 206 seats for screening films, Digital Trends reported.

The purpose of the Packard Campus is to preserve the TV, movies, and sound that help to preserve a large portion of what life was like at different time periods throughout the past, as well as how recording technology changed over the decades.

John Glenn: A True American Hero: Astronaut, Senator, Dies At 95

 

How John Glenn Became an Astronaut, as Told in 1962

March 2, 1962
Cover Credit: BORIS ARTZYBASHEFFThe March 2, 1962, cover of TIME 
(THIS ARTICLE IS COURTESY OF TIME MAGAZINE)

The history-making pilot, astronaut and Senator has died at 95

Astronaut John Glenn, the first American to orbit the Earth and the third in space, died Thursday. A former U.S. Senator from Ohio, he was 95.

Glenn landed on the cover of the March 2, 1962, issue of TIME after circling the globe three times in 4 hours and 56 minutes—at speeds of more than 17,000 mph—on Feb. 20, 1962.

The achievement came 10 months after Soviet Cosmonaut Yuri Gagarin became the first human in space and made one full orbit around Earth (April 12, 1961) and nine months after Alan Shepard became the first American in space (May 5, 1961), followed by Gus Grissom (July 21, 1961). Thus, his mission was a critical step in the American mission to win the Cold War in space by fulfilling President John F. Kennedy, Jr.’s commitment to “achieving the goal, before this decade is out, of landing a man on the moon and returning him safely to the earth.”

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TIME launched its profile of Glenn by pointing out that the grandeur of the undertaking was quite matched by the affect of the man: “In his flight across the heavens, John Glenn was a latter-day Apollo, flashing through the unknown, sending his cool observations and random comments to the earth in radio thunderbolts, acting as though orbiting the earth were his everyday occupation. Back on earth, Glenn seemed to be quite a different fellow—an enormously appealing man, to be sure, but as normal as blueberry pie.”

The Ohio native’s life had indeed started out in complete normalcy: he spent his time playing football and basketball, and reading Buck Rogers. He later joined the Marine Corps, becoming a decorated test pilot and a combat flyer, earning the rank of colonel. (Ted Williams, the legendary Red Sox left fielder who was also a Marine pilot, told TIME, “The man is crazy,” referring to the way he apparently liked to show off his flying skill in dangerous stunts.) But, though his achievements as a pilot were notable, as a career it was still within the range of ordinary.

So how did he get to be an astronaut? TIME explained:

Early in his career, Glenn developed the art of “sniveling.” Explains Marine Lieut. Colonel Richard Rainforth, who flew beside Glenn in both World War II and Korea: “Sniveling, among pilots, means to work yourself into a program, whether it happens to be your job or not. Sniveling is perfectly legitimate, and Johnny is a great hand at it.” In 1957 Glenn sniveled the Marines into letting him try to beat the speed of sound from coast to coast. Flying an F8U, Glenn failed by nine minutes, but he did knock 23 1/2 min. off the coast-to-coast speed record by covering the distance in 3 hr. 23 min. at an average speed of 726 m.p.h.

Then, in 1959, Glenn resolutely set out to snivel his way into the toughest program of all: Project Mercury. He started with two handicaps: he lacked a college degree, and, at 37, he was considered to be an old man. But Glenn managed to get permission to go along as an “observer” with one prime candidate of the Navy’s Bureau of Aeronautics. When the candidate failed an early test, recalls Rainforth, “Johnny stepped up, chest high, and offered himself as a candidate. They took him.”

…Candidate Glenn and 510 others were run through a wringer of mental and physical tests. Doctors charted their brain waves, skewered their hands with electrodes to pick up the electrical impulses that would tell how quickly their muscles responded to nerve stimulation. Glenn held up tenaciously under tests of heat and vibration, did especially well with problems of logical reasoning. Says Dr. Stanley White, a Project Mercury physician: “Glenn is a guy who lives by facts.”

To the surprise of no one who ever knew him, Glenn was one of the seven former test pilots who were picked to become the nation’s first astronauts.

In terms of what it felt like to be in space, he reported “no ill effects at all” from zero gravity and described weightlessness as “something you could get addicted to.” It was also “hot” inside the Friendship 7 capsule at times; at one point, the temperature hit 108º in the cabin. He saw four “beautiful” sunsets and said nightfall in space is akin to nightfall in the desert “on a very clear, brilliant night when there’s no moon and the stars just seem to jump out at you.”

While TIME declared, “Not since Lindy had the U.S. had such a hero”—referring to Charles Lindbergh, who accomplished the first solo nonstop flight across the Atlantic Ocean—Glenn tried to emphasize at a press conference following his splashdown in the Atlantic Ocean that spaceflight still had a long way to go: “If you think of the enormity of space, it makes our efforts seem puny. But these are all step-by-step functions we go through. The manned flights we’ve had to date have added information. This flight, I hope, added a bit more. And there are more to come.”

Read the full cover story, here in the TIME Vault: Spaceman Glenn

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