Category Archives: Philosophical

Today Was Not A Good Day For Blogging

Laptop.jpgHere is the link to the latest article on my other blog: Today Was Not A Good Day For Blogging

When Spring Goes By By Duncan Campbell Scott

Duncan Campbell Scott

The winds that on the uplands softly lie,
Grow keener where the ice is lingering still
Where the first robin on the sheltered hill
Pipes blithely to the tune, “When Spring goes by!”
Hear him again, “Spring! Spring!” He seems to cry,
Haunting the fall of the flute-throated rill,
That keeps a gentle, constant, silver thrill,
While he is restless in his ecstasy.

Ah! the soft budding of the virginal woods,
Of the frail fruit trees by the vanishing lakes:
There’s the new moon where the clear sunset floods,
A trace of dew upon the rose leaf sky;
And hark! what rapture the glad robin wakes-
“When Spring goes by; Spring! Spring! When
Spring goes by.”

Precious Time Wasted!

Laptop.jpgHere is the link to the latest article on my other blog: Precious Time Wasted!

Teachings from Bashar!!! – Darryl Anka

Just Pondering Part 802

Photo credit:

Photo credit:

Yesterday, I exercised in darkness. And, why was that the case?

Sunday had lots of lightening; as a result of such weather, a transformer was blown.

Many of us who exercise on the exercise facility grounds are accustomed to meeting those tall bright lights; that  kind that are within stadiums nationwide (So, a lot of us were surprised when we found the place in darkness and it was very dark, because it was way before sunrise).

Those who were accustomed running early in the morning walked, because of the lack of visibility.

Would I be going out later today? Hell no! I can’t see in the dark! I would probably cancel all exercise plans and probably face the darkness on Wednesday.

I am also hoping that they rectify the issue soon, because I like running very early in the morning and most importantly, I intend on seeing where I am running.

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Losses By Randall Jarrell

Randall Jarrell

It was not dying: everybody died.
It was not dying: we had died before
In the routine crashes– and our fields
Called up the papers, wrote home to our folks,
And the rates rose, all because of us.
We died on the wrong page of the almanac,
Scattered on mountains fifty miles away;
Diving on haystacks, fighting with a friend,
We blazed up on the lines we never saw.
We died like aunts or pets or foreigners.
(When we left high school nothing else had died
For us to figure we had died like.)

In our new planes, with our new crews, we bombed
The ranges by the desert or the shore,
Fired at towed targets, waited for our scores–
And turned into replacements and woke up
One morning, over England, operational.

It wasn’t different: but if we died
It was not an accident but a mistake
(But an easy one for anyone to make.)
We read our mail and counted up our missions–
In bombers named for girls, we burned
The cities we had learned about in school–
Till our lives wore out; our bodies lay among
The people we had killed and never seen.
When we lasted long enough they gave us medals;
When we died they said, ‘Our casualties were low.’

They said, ‘Here are the maps'; we burned the cities.

It was not dying –no, not ever dying;
But the night I died I dreamed that I was dead,
And the cities said to me: ‘Why are you dying?
We are satisfied, if you are; but why did I die?’

Huh? People Fired Over Tattoos?

Various piercings and tatoos on a person

Various piercings and tatoos on a person (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

Here is the link to the latest article on my other blog: Huh? People Fired Over Tattoos?