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Relationships do not preclude issues of morality.

quote by Jhumpa Lahiri
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Feeling Out Of Sorts?

Feeling out of sorts these days?
Want to know what you can do?
Need help? Here are 50 ways,
Maybe you'll benefit from a few

ROTMS

SYMPTOMS OF SPIRITUAL AWAKENING

1. Changing sleep patterns: restlessness, hot feet, waking up two or three times a night. Feeling tired after you wake up and sleepy off and on during the day.
There is something called the Triad Sleep Pattern that occurs for many: you sleep for about 2-3 hours, wake up, go back to sleep for another couple of hours, wake again, and go back to sleep again. For others, the sleep requirements have changed. You can get by on less sleep.
Lately I have been experiencing huge waves of energy running into my body from the crown. It feels good, but it keeps me awake for a long time, then subsides.

Advice: Get used to it. Make peace with it and don't worry about getting enough sleep (which often causes more insomnia) . You will be able to make it through the day if you hold thoughts of getting just what you need. You can also request your Higher Power to give you a break now and then and give you a good, deep night's sleep.

If you can't go back to sleep right away, use the waking moments to meditate, read poetry, write in your journal or look at the moon. Your body will adjust to the new pattern.

2. Activity at the crown of the head: Tingling, itching, prickly, crawling sensations along the scalp and/or down the spine. A sense of energy vibrating on top of the head, as if energy is erupting from the head in a shower. Also the sensation of energy pouring in through the crown, described as 'sprinkles'.

This may also be experienced as pressure on the crown, as if someone is pushing his/her finger into the center of your head. As I mentioned in #1, I have been experiencing huge downloads of energy through the crown.
In the past, I have felt more generalized pressure, as if my head is in a gentle vise. One man related that his hair stood on end and his body was covered with goosebumps.

Advice: This is nothing to be alarmed about. What you are experiencing is an opening of the crown chakra. The sensations mean that you are opening up to receive divine energy.

3. Sudden waves of emotion. Crying at the dropp of a hat. Feeling suddenly angry or sad with little provocation. Or inexplicably depressed. Then very happy. Emotional roller coaster. There is often a pressure or sense of emotions congested in the heart chakra (the middle of the chest) . This is not to be confused with the heart, which is located to the left of the heart chakra.

Advice: Accept your feelings as they come up and let them go. Go directly to your heart chakra and feel the emotion. Expand it outward to your all your fields and breathe deeply from the belly all the way up to your upper chest. Just feel the feeling and let it evaporate on its own. Don't direct the emotions at anyone.

You are cleaning out your past. If you want some help with this, say out loud that you intend to release all these old issues and ask your Higher Power to help you. You can also ask Grace Elohim to help you release with ease and gentleness. Be grateful that your body is releasing the see motions and not holding onto them inside where they can do harm.

One source suggests that depression is linked to letting go of relationships to people, work, etc. that no longer match us and our frequencies. When we feel guilty about letting go of these relationships, depression helps us medicate that pain.

4. Old 'stuff' seems to be coming up, as described above, and the people with whom you need to work it out (or their clones) appear in your life. Completion issues.

Or perhaps you need to work through issues of self-worth, abundance, creativity, addictions, etc. The resources or people you need to help you move through these issues start to appear.

Advice: Same as #3. Additionally, don't get too involved in analyzing these issues. Examining them too much will simply cycle you back through them over and over again at deeper and deeper levels. Get professional help if you need to and walk through it.

Do not try to avoid them or disassociate yourself from them. Embrace whatever comes up and thank it for helping you move ahead. Thank your Higher Power for giving you the opportunity to release these issues. Remember, you don't want these issues to stay stuck in your body.

5. Changes in weight. The weight gain in the US population is phenomenal. Other people may be losing weight.

[...] Read more

poem by Ray Lucero
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Broken Relationships

Wanting to mend them.
And to fix.
Those Broken relationships,
We came to know but miss.

Wanting to mend them.
And to fix.
Those broken relationships,
We came to know but miss.

Forgiving is easier when that act is done.
But to forget is not as quick,
As is wished.

Forgiving is easier when that act is done.
But to forget is not as quick,
As is wished.

Broken relationships,
Are hard to mend when they end.
Broken relationships,
Are hard to mend when they end.

Wanting to mend them.
And to fix.
Those Broken relationships,
We came to know but miss.

Wanting to mend them.
And to fix.
Those broken relationships,
We came to know but miss.

Forgiving is easier when that act is done.
But to forget is not as quick,
As is wished.

Broken relationships,
Are hard to mend when they end.
Broken relationships,
Are hard to mend when they end.
Broken relationships,
Are hard to mend when they end.
Broken relationships,
Are hard to mend when they end.

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Issues

Issues are abound and around,
Issues break the hearts astound,
Issues encourage being excellent,
Issues envisage the predicament,
Issues are the oars to push the boat,
Issues are umbrellas, get wet, not protects,
Issues issue the ticket to the ground,
Imitate the quality of the dew on the grass,
To minimize the issues as small as possible,
When the dew reflects the tallest building,
on its smallest surface without illusion,
When the dew on the grass can reflect it,
Upside down in same proportion,
Why are we, human, afraid of issues?
Make it small and solve it.

poem by Veeraiyah Subbulakshmi
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Soboba

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[...] Read more

poem by Rwetewrt Erwtwer
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Morality Make Beauty

Would the things you do
Make you beautiful
Probably
Surely we have two sides in everything
The two sides of beauty
You and you
Inside and outside
Ever and never
Inexhaustible and exhaustible

Let just start right here
Cosmetics made me looked beautiful
But I wander
How long would this last
When it is never hidden from the
Solemn standing sun
The sun shall shine
And tomorrow the sun shall dry this beauty away
Some call it old age
Why won't this beauty last?
Some also say old age annihilates beauty

Hey!
How long would you remain a secret to the majority?
You contemptuously say to cosmetic
Beauty maker
Is that what they call you?
Oh mercy you despicable

Morality makes you beautiful you
Morality makes you beautiful inside
Morality makes you beautiful for ever
Morality makes you your world beautiful

Your inside matters
The sun don't dry it up c
It hidden from the solemn standing sun
Morality overcomes the sun's annihilation
Let morality make you up
Behold drifting away shall your beauty not be
Forever shall it bloom as the sun shines

poem by Moses Amen Nyinaku
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Marriage Bonds

“I never looked for any marriage bond, ”
said Heloise to Abelard.
She knew that marriage is no magic wand,
despite the popular canard
that it consolidates relationships
that would be broken otherwise.
A lovely face can’t launch a thousand ships,
and marriage fails as a franchise
unless, instead of drifting without ease
into the boredom of routine,
the married couple sails like ships on seas,
not stretching in a limousine,
but tossed by waves whose turbulence ensures
that all emotions that they’ve felt
will amplify and not disarm amours,
providing them not a lifelovebelt,
but surfboard with which they can catch the waves,
not drowning since they do not tread
upon the other’s dreams, not bound like slaves
to rings that bound them when first wed.

Inspired by Katie Roiphe’s review of “A Vindication of Love” by Cristina Nehring in the NYT Book Review, June 21 (“Feverish Limitations”) :
Feverish Liaisons, Katie Rophe, June 21,2009
Publishers. $24.99
For most of us love is largely a matter of shared mortgage payments, evenings curled up on the couch in front of a video, or maybe a night in a hotel for an anniversary. But Cristina Nehring has a different idea. Her ardent polemic, “A Vindication of Love, ” puts forward a darker, more demanding vision of love. This is not, it should be said right away, a book without ambition: the subtitle is “Reclaiming Romance for the Twenty-First Century, ” though it is not exactly romance Nehring is writing about, but a more difficult, vital image of passion she believes we have lost. “We have been pragmatic and pedestrian about our erotic lives for too long, ” she writes, and in an examination of real and invented figures from the Wife of Bath to Frida Kahlo, she revels in love affairs that do not rely on our more hackneyed narratives. The result of Nehring’s literary and historical inquiry is a celebration of the wilder, messier connections. Her heroes and heroines tend to die, like Young Werther, who shoots himself; or try to die, like Mary Wollstonecraft, who throws herself off a bridge; or suffer, like Abelard and Heloise, one of whom is castrated and one of whom ends up in a nunnery. And yet Nehring admires these flamboyant men and women for the creative force of their affairs, for their ability to live outside the lines, for the ferocity of their feelings. She sees our modern goals of marriage, security and comfort as limited and sad, and quotes approvingly Heloise’s statement to Abelard: “‘I looked for no marriage bond, ’ she flashed. ‘I never sought anything in you but yourself.’ ”
In her most provocative and interesting chapters, Nehring argues for the value of suffering, for the importance of failure. Our idea of a contented married ending is too cozy and tame for her. We yearn for what she calls “strenuously exhibitionistic happiness” — think of family photos on Facebook — but instead we should focus on the fullness and intensity of emotion. She writes of Margaret Fuller: “Fuller’s failures are several times more sumptuous than other folks’ successes. And perhaps that is something we need to admit about failure: It can well be more sumptuous than success.... Somewhere in our collective unconscious we know — even now — that to have failed is to have lived.” Nehring sees in the grandeur of feeling a kind of heroism, even if the relationship doesn’t take conventional form or endure in the conventional way. For Nehring, one senses, true failure is to drift comfortably along in a dull relationship, to spend precious years of life in a marriage that is not exciting or satisfying, to live cautiously, responsibly. Is the strength of feeling redeemed in the blaze of passion even if it does not end happily? she asks. Is contentment too soft and modest a goal? Elsewhere, Nehring interrogates our steadfast insistence on balanced, healthy relationships, our readiness to condemn doomed, impossible entanglements. She argues that it may in fact be a sign of health to enter into a relationship that is turbulent, demanding or unorthodox. She praises long-distance relationships, arduous relationships, relationships with men who are elusive, relationships the therapeutic culture adamantly opposes. She asks, “Could it be that the choice of a challenging love object signals strength and resourcefulness rather than insecurity and psychological damage, as we so often hear? ”

6/26/09

poem by Gershon Hepner
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On The Top Of A Mountain

Diss your issues that you've got with me.
I'm not about them!
Stop and dropp 'em.

Diss your issues that you've got with me.
Hey hey,
I'm not about them!
Stop and dropp 'em.

You say you've paid,
Dues you want to send my way.
I'm not about them!
Stop and dropp 'em.

You say you gave,
Others time you gave away.
I don't doubt it.
I'm not about it.

You say pain stays...
Riding on your back each day.
I don't doubt it.
I'm not about it.

You seem so afraid,
To let go and just walk away.
Then you want to blame me,
Because I'm not frustrated?

Diss your issues that you've got with me.
Hey hey,
I'm not about them!
Stop and dropp 'em.

Diss your issues that you've got with me.
Hey hey,
I'm not about them!
Stop and dropp 'em.

You say you've paid,
Dues you want to send my way.
I'm not about them!
Stop and dropp 'em.

You've got to learn to make pebbles from a rock!
Keep'a chippin' at those boulders...
'Til you find,
You've climbed to the top...
Of a mountain!

[...] Read more

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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They Are The Ones That Others Envy

I have issues with people who leave people...
Begging on the streets with nothing to eat.
Or treat others like they're not even human equals.
And then look disgusted like they are diseased

No human being can teach a cat hygiene.
Nor can you teach a grown up to be clean.
Nobody should be teaching who to respect.
That should be a given and not a pick to peck.

I have issues with the snots with turned up noses.
As if they have scents of champion roses.
Ooo I can't believe these people are the ones who stink.
And-they-believe,
They are the ones that others envy?

Who made them runner up for fresh sainthoods?
Who showed them evilness was anything good?
Who gave them rights to think they beam like light?
And who told them they approve the Sun that rises high!

Yes I have issues with the snots with turned up noses.
As if they have scents of champion roses.
Ooo I can't believe these people are the ones who stink.
And-they-believe,
They are the ones that others envy?

They believe,
They are the ones that others envy.
And they believe,
They are the ones that others envy.
They believe,
They are the ones that others envy.
And they believe,
They are the ones that others envy.

I have issues with the snots with turned up noses.
And they believe,
They are the ones that others envy.

I have issues with the snots with turned up noses.
And they believe,
They are the ones that others envy.
And they believe,
They are the ones that others envy.
And they believe,
They are the ones that others envy.

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Book Twelfth [Imagination And Taste, How Impaired And Restored ]

LONG time have human ignorance and guilt
Detained us, on what spectacles of woe
Compelled to look, and inwardly oppressed
With sorrow, disappointment, vexing thoughts,
Confusion of the judgment, zeal decayed,
And, lastly, utter loss of hope itself
And things to hope for! Not with these began
Our song, and not with these our song must end.
Ye motions of delight, that haunt the sides
Of the green hills; ye breezes and soft airs,
Whose subtle intercourse with breathing flowers,
Feelingly watched, might teach Man's haughty race
How without Injury to take, to give
Without offence; ye who, as if to show
The wondrous influence of power gently used,
Bend the complying heads of lordly pines,
And, with a touch, shift the stupendous clouds
Through the whole compass of the sky; ye brooks,
Muttering along the stones, a busy noise
By day, a quiet sound in silent night;
Ye waves, that out of the great deep steal forth
In a calm hour to kiss the pebbly shore,
Not mute, and then retire, fearing no storm;
And you, ye groves, whose ministry it is
To interpose the covert of your shades,
Even as a sleep, between the heart of man
And outward troubles, between man himself,
Not seldom, and his own uneasy heart:
Oh! that I had a music and a voice
Harmonious as your own, that I might tell
What ye have done for me. The morning shines,
Nor heedeth Man's perverseness; Spring returns,--
I saw the Spring return, and could rejoice,
In common with the children of her love,
Piping on boughs, or sporting on fresh fields,
Or boldly seeking pleasure nearer heaven
On wings that navigate cerulean skies.
So neither were complacency, nor peace,
Nor tender yearnings, wanting for my good
Through these distracted times; in Nature still
Glorying, I found a counterpoise in her,
Which, when the spirit of evil reached its height,
Maintained for me a secret happiness.

This narrative, my Friend! hath chiefly told
Of intellectual power, fostering love,
Dispensing truth, and, over men and things,
Where reason yet might hesitate, diffusing
Prophetic sympathies of genial faith:
So was I favoured--such my happy lot--

[...] Read more

poem by William Wordsworth
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The Moral Rights

‘The moral rights of the author
have been asserted’… that, I’m told,
is what I should say when I write
anything for publication here; even before
I say anything..

It means, I guess, the more, the less..
than ‘Copyright’ which normally
gets printed just above it;
which just means, don’t copy this;

whereas ‘moral rights’ convey
so much more…
suggesting that I even possess morality;
which, considering my wild, undisciplined
former life, you might well question..

but note, I merely ‘assert’ them;
feel free to challenge them (you note that ‘rights’
are plural; plenty lawyer’s fees there
to say, well maybe this, not that…

and you’re free (your defending counsel may assert)
to copy my poem and put your own name to it;
since truth can be in no man’s sole possession,
and my poem, bless its metered tropes,
speaks naught but the truth..

though now I mention ‘truth’, I don’t recall
that phrase about the moral rights
upon the title-page of, let’s say,
the Gospels; Books of Moses; Qu’ran; Upanishads;
those guys on whom we’ve so long depended
to tell us what morality should be..

so please understand, that when I ‘assert’,
it’s more for my self-image than for yours;
makes me feel good; I must be
a serious author, if (in the subtext, scholars footnote)
the moral underpinning may be detected..

and that said – now to the poem.. Except
now I’ve forgotten what I was going to say..

Perhaps that, too, is a moral issue; but
I have the right to remain silent..
even if I’m up on this morality charge..

my defence is, that my Muse,
hearing the word ‘morality’,

[...] Read more

poem by Michael Shepherd
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Relationships

Relationships!
Now she is gone forever but,
Her first name was like my first night in bed with her;
And of her mind so free and of her love so sweet,
But now she is gone forever.

Relationships!
And of her figure like the Penthouse;
But the Devil in her City was like,
The harvest time with her sweet love!
And it was like the old school and the new school in arms.

Relationships!
Longing to come home with her once again like last night;
But it was all over and she is gone forever!
She was my lover and of her mind so free and so sweet,
But some relationships do not last forever.

poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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All women's issues are to some degree men's issues and all men's issues are to some degree women's issues because when either sex wins unilaterally both sexes lose.

quote by Warren Farrell
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And so popular culture raises issues that are very important, actually, in the country I think. You get issues of the First Amendment rights and issues of drug use, issues of AIDS, and things like that all arise naturally out of pop culture.

quote by Kurt Loder
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There are no accounting issues, no trading issues, no reserve issues, no previously unknown problem issues.

quote by Kenneth Lay
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The Silence Of Indifference

if we do not write about rape issues
sensitive issues volatile issues explosive issues
if we do not voice our condemnation outrage

we then by default support these evils
with the silence of our indifference
with the silence of our fear cowardice

with our refusal to fight against injustice
with our refusal to fight prejudice inequality
with our refusal to fight for dignity for all humanity

poem by Terence George Craddock
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What If

Such a tiny word, that word if, helps to ignore the present gift,
God’s gift to us of life today, when we put the past in the way,
Today’s a gift to all of us, from the Author of life Christ Jesus,
Yesterday’s past is already gone, and He’d like us to carry on.

What if, only moves us to cast, present thoughts into the past,
Tainting concerns now at hand, with those we can’t understand,
It may even cause us to resent, past issues, in view of present,
What God wants left behind, to give us present peace of mind.

We cannot physically, go back, to alter what we presently lack,
For with the past said and done, we have a present race to run.
Old issues we should not spurn, using all them instead to learn,
As we go forward in this life, following the lead of Jesus Christ.

Allow His Spirit only to retrace, those past issues by His Grace,
As Christ helps you not to repeat, what was in your past defeat.
Christ, has a plan for all of us, and in Him we must simply trust,
And God’s plan for you and me, is not more defeat, but victory.

Believers, God will not forsake, regardless of any past mistake,
God wants us to move ahead, not be filled with regret or dread,
As God takes us by the hand, past issues we can’t understand,
Avoiding that small word if, to focus on Christ our greatest gift.

(Copyright ©07/2009)

poem by Bob Gotti
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Issues

For all, issues arise every day in every shape and size.

You must deal with all of them in ways that are wise.

For some you are glad while others make you mad.

Lucky for you, but a few, are in themselves, truly sad.

Worst of all are issues that you alone cause to be bad.

Before your presence there was no problem to be had.

Love, family and health are key issues of each day,

Though issues of money and power hinder your way.

If not addressed these infections will spread and may

Kill the love you have and result in a life of dismay.

poem by Gregory Huyette
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Canadian Forbidden Issues Nov 6th,2012

Canadian binding referendums are completely forbidden,
Our peaceful politicians don't want to be overridden,
Just like death-with-dignity issues - we're going nowhere,
Ottawa aristocrats wont allow it so we don't stand a prayer.

And we don't have set date elections so no one knows for sure,
Because politicians can cause these issues to be obscure,
And bought media moguls concentrate on different stuff,
As if other issues are more important and that's enough.

You can't vote for a senator so these issues too stay vague,
Therefore death-with-dignity has to be avoided like the plague,
And you don't have to vote at all so you can just stay home,
Or take a vacation or buy a new car with lots of shiny chrome.

poem by James Bredin
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What It Took for Me To Get Here

Perhaps I am old fashion.
With a joy of having peace...
And surrounded by quietness,
I've discovered I love alot.
But I can not live within my home,
With rooms that are closed.
And each padlocked.
That's why I refuse to share my space,
With those who have issues.
And I trust not.

'You have enough space.
We could share as room-mates.
We can split expenses.
Doesn't that make sense? '

Perhaps I am old fashion.
With a joy of having peace...
And surrounded by quietness,
I've discovered I love alot.
But I can not live within my home,
With rooms that are closed.
And each padlocked.
That's why I refuse to share my space,
With those who have issues.
And I trust not.

'Trust?
I'm talking about saving us both a few bucks.'

Perhaps I am old fashion.
With a joy of having peace...
And surrounded by quietness,
I've discovered I love alot.
But I can not live within my home,
With rooms that are closed.
And each padlocked.
That's why I refuse to share my space,
With those who have issues.
And I trust not.

'What are you saying?
You can't use a few more dollars,
In your pocket?
Allowing you to breathe.
Economically and more freely? '

Perhaps I am old fashion.
With a joy of having peace...
And surrounded by quietness,

[...] Read more

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Modern Love

I

By this he knew she wept with waking eyes:
That, at his hand's light quiver by her head,
The strange low sobs that shook their common bed
Were called into her with a sharp surprise,
And strangled mute, like little gaping snakes,
Dreadfully venomous to him. She lay
Stone-still, and the long darkness flowed away
With muffled pulses. Then, as midnight makes
Her giant heart of Memory and Tears
Drink the pale drug of silence, and so beat
Sleep's heavy measure, they from head to feet
Were moveless, looking through their dead black years,
By vain regret scrawled over the blank wall.
Like sculptured effigies they might be seen
Upon their marriage-tomb, the sword between;
Each wishing for the sword that severs all.

II

It ended, and the morrow brought the task.
Her eyes were guilty gates, that let him in
By shutting all too zealous for their sin:
Each sucked a secret, and each wore a mask.
But, oh, the bitter taste her beauty had!
He sickened as at breath of poison-flowers:
A languid humour stole among the hours,
And if their smiles encountered, he went mad,
And raged deep inward, till the light was brown
Before his vision, and the world, forgot,
Looked wicked as some old dull murder-spot.
A star with lurid beams, she seemed to crown
The pit of infamy: and then again
He fainted on his vengefulness, and strove
To ape the magnanimity of love,
And smote himself, a shuddering heap of pain.

III

This was the woman; what now of the man?
But pass him. If he comes beneath a heel,
He shall be crushed until he cannot feel,
Or, being callous, haply till he can.
But he is nothing:- nothing? Only mark
The rich light striking out from her on him!
Ha! what a sense it is when her eyes swim
Across the man she singles, leaving dark
All else! Lord God, who mad'st the thing so fair,
See that I am drawn to her even now!

[...] Read more

poem by George Meredith
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