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His inquietude made him what he was…

18 comments

 

 

His inquietude made him what he was…
     a repetitive jumble of endlessly clamoring
     mental symbols that were not realities
     (i.e., they were the typical unreal, fabricated images of the mind).

Her quietude was the immense beauty that she was…
     a comprehensive wholeness of undivided reality,
     actualities of timeless life movement beyond the known
     (i.e., beyond mere superficial symbols of thought).

 

 

Neural Networks Personified … Photo by Thomas Peace c. 2019

 

 

 

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My Blog primarily consists of close-up nature photos (that I've taken locally) combined with original holistic-truth oriented prose and/or poetry involving mindfulness/awareness. I love nature and I love understanding the whole (not merely the parts and the details). I'm a retired teacher of the multiply handicapped. I have a number of interesting hobbies, such as fossil collecting, sport-kite flying, 3D and 2D close-up photography, holography, and pets. Most of all, I am into holistic self-awareness, spontaneous insight, unconventional observation/direct perception, mindfulness, meditation, world peace, non-fragmentation, population control, vegetarianism, and green energy. To follow my unique Blog of "Nature Photos and Mindfulness Sayings" and for RSS feeds to my new posts, please access at: tom8pie.com (On my regular Blog posting pages, for additional information and to follow, simply click on the "tack icon" at the upper right corner... or, on my profile page, you can click on the "Thomas Peace" icon.) Stay mindful, understanding, and caring!...

18 Comments Join the Conversation

  1. Over Soil has a good question — there is a verse missing, but I’m not going to write it. It could be done without the pronouns.

    Reply

  2. I cannot stand the imposition of ideology on poetry. I once told someone, “My blog, my rules,” and the analogy here would be “my poem, my words.” It’s a fine poem, and that photo of the tendrils is exquisite. It also made me smile, since I’m remember those teenaged years when a 50′ coiled telephone cord allowed me to carry the family phone into my bedroom for a little privacy. How things have changed!

    Reply

    • Yes, “imposition of ideology on poetry” is exactly an intelligent and honest way of putting it, Linda. It’s utterly ludicrous really!
      Ah yes, i remember those coiled telephone cords (and the party-line system with operators… along with the whirring, rotating dial). Yes, times have changed tremendously. In the future, they’ll have holograms of the callers as an option (and will be smiling about what we have now). 🙂

      Reply

  3. Superficial symbols…fabricated images…out of touch with reality…hmmm…the coiled tendrils probably makes more sense to the human consciousness. :-/

    Reply

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