LittleNote's blog

One way to inner peace is simply to sit without judgement and enjoy the uniqueness of each personality that comes before me. There is a delight in knowing that each one's DNA is different, each one's memories, each one's bruises and loves, each one's shoes, and therefore to expect a society of clones is not only impossible, but an utterly boring concept.
To welcome an Other's thought and talents into one's life is to double the perspectives. To welcome Many gives endless permutations and combinations, an overflow of insights and understandings. And where there is understanding, fear has no place, for peace is a by-product of understanding. read more »

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Once upon the time of ole
folks gathered at the village pub.
It wasn't just a watering hole,
but listen - here's the rub -

Families came and children played
"˜Twas the place for dating, too.
Dinners eaten, then folks stayed
to listen to a song or two.

Story-tellers would regale
as fiddles and the harps kept time.
All would dance; a babe might wail.
Singers kept a pleasant rhyme. read more »

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IF ASHES COULD ROLL OVER

Once Vietnam was all the rage and peace we waged
In protest songs, in marches and sit-downs.
We stood up for our beliefs
which did not mesh with the powers elite.
The horrors drove some to TM - or to LSD -
Put some in jail or early graves.
On the tube we watched in vain
As JFK, RFK, and MLK got slain.

Some of us simply said, no way, Sam, no way.. read more »

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Once upon a long ago, I led Enneagram retreats, using the writings of the saints and scoundrels as models to understand motivational behavior in that paradigm. Along with this tool and commonly used words, we can find illumination that helps us better understand the why of what we do contrary to our better senses.

Most people do not want to be disillusioned, yet to be ‘dissed' or undone of one's illusions is the path to truth. The truth can only set us free if we know what that truth is. We are often happy with what we do not realize are illusions. We content ourselves with seeing through a glass darkly. We hear off-stage, "The truth hurts," and so we settle for less. Often I've asked a friend to tell me what I cannot see of me because I do not own a 3-D mirror. It is not good for a human to be alone. read more »

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THE PRODIGAL PARENT

Whoever approaches me walking
I will come to her (him) running,
and the one who meets me
with sins equivalent to the whole world,
I will greet with forgiveness equal to it.

~A. Nonymous
~found on a boat, 2006

I stand as Earth's daughter, head bowed with salty tears falling into the current upon the fearsome Sea I love. My toes sift sand like time, like once in glass made of sand. In one hand I hold the waste of wood with stinkin' ink smearing tales before my blurry eyes. In my heart, I hold a globe of once blue and green becoming brown. Fires burn. Faces turn angry, sad, frightened. My poems are dark these days. My songs cry for truth and peace. read more »

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Carnage Reigns
Missiles, Planes
Scourge the Earth
Scuttle Birth
Bombs Grow Flames

Town and Village
Rape and Pillage
Foul the Water
Kill Son and Daughter
Exalt Blood Spillage

Nuke the Soil
Grab the Spoil
Level Each Town
All Fall Down
All for Oil

Innocents Die
Madmen Lie
Soldiers Wild
Kill each Child
Generations Cry

Which the Curse
How Much Worse -
Bombers' Dust read more »

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It's nice to know that, given time, one can overcome one's fears, especially when the path is taken with a trusted friend, even more especially, a strong woman friend with full skirt. Dubya finally made it to ‘Nam. There was a bit of tripping over words, but not much more than the linguistically challenged endure. ‘Tis a wonder how the teachers of English in Vietnam will explain some of his syntax to astute students. read more »

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Once upon a long ago, the music died when we read about the widowed bride. So went our homey apple pie, for something touched us deep inside that day on which all who were alive then, still remember where we were and what we were doing as we began to sing dirges in the dark.

Now recently, we have commemorated the day our freedoms died. One morning we woke up in innocence, enjoying our right to come and go without interference, and by evening, every American citizen had become a suspect. We've been stripped and searched, interrogated, audio and video taped. Our purchases are monitored while the media directs with fine choreography the grip of fear, moving from one event to the next, keeping the populace in a state of knowing. Knowing that if the terrorists don't get us, the birds will. We are the prey of the fear mongers and are oblivious to the fact that it is too late. read more »

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