A poem I wrote and forgot — to a girl I also forgot — showed me something truly great lies at all times in us all.
….White quasi-rapper Tom MacDonald on fighting cancer — a “soft-rock” rap song and not bad at all….
After spending 2.5 years with Margi fighting cancer and then the radiation after-effects, I can heartily endorse every word.
[Verse 1]
Everybody knows someone who’s sick
Forty percent will get cancer, only half’s gonna live
Your mom and your dad and your sister stand inside a room
And someone won’t survive it, do you hope it isn’t you?
I swear that cancer has a cure, but they’re refusing to make it
They’ve done like forty years of research, ninety billion in donations
We’ve been running for the cure and wearing ribbons for ages
Why are people still going through radiation? It’s fucking crazy
Hundred billion-dollar industry, they can’t afford to end it
And nobody wants to die, our only option is to spend it
We give anything to stick around for just another second
Give a fortune to the doctors who promise they can extend it
The profits are astronomic, the hospital and the clinics
Of fillings coffins with dollars, it’s awful, let’s just admit it
We’re all human, we’ll keep fighting ’cause it’s how we survive
But it’s scary ’cause we don’t know where we’ll go when we die
[Chorus]
Don’t give up, I know you’re strong, show them all your fire
The days are hard, the nights are long
But you are a fighter, when it’s dire, you burn brighter in the dark
You’re a survivor, when you’re tired, you hold tighter, you have heart
[Verse 2]
Nothing matters if you don’t have your health
All the money in the world doesn’t help
The good might go to Heaven and the bad might go to Hell
But no one wants to leave here, you can tell
And cancer touches everyone, it’s in our genetics
And our world’s become so toxic, it’s all carcinogenic
We’ve polluted the water, the air; the food we’re ingesting
Is full of hormones and poison, our population’s infected
They sell us cigarettes and liquor, built a business on addictions
We’ve been paying them to kill ourselves, we’re dying to keep living
It’s the system, it’s a prison, we keep trying to beat it
We get cancer from keeping all of our demons a secret
And our insurance don’t cover the things we need to defeat it
And even if it does, then we might die from the treatment
Our best defence is living like we do not know what cancer is
Fight it if you have it and pray that there’s something after this
[Chorus]
Don’t give up, I know you’re strong, show them all your fire
The days are hard, the nights are long
But you are a fighter, when it’s dire, you burn brighter in the dark
You’re a survivor, when you’re tired, you hold tighter, you have heart
[Bridge]
You won’t know how to be brave
Till you choose to fight when you’re afraid
And you can’t experience strength
Till you struggle to carry the weight
And you won’t know why you have faith
Till you look the Devil in his face
And you don’t know what you can take
Till you realize you didn’t break
[Chorus]
Don’t give up, I know you’re strong, show them all your fire
The days are hard, the nights are long
But you are a fighter, when it’s dire, you burn brighter in the dark
You’re a survivor, when you’re tired, you hold tighter, you have heart
….Spiritual reading
October 17
Pracice today for yourself that which we hope you were able to pracice for others yesterday. Do
something to pamper yourself. Funny word, and not exactly in keeping with the spirit of the times!
But we encourage you to do something unexpected that touches and opens your own heart, something sweet and tender that acknowledges and honors the effort and courage needed to cross the glaciers you’ve been crossing, scale the peaks and leap the chasms.
You may have a plan—you may know just what it is that will make you feel beloved and seen. Or you might just have to be on the lookout during the day for the moment when there is something you want but would tend to deny yourself. When you know it, be brave and give it to yourself. If it feels loving and kind, then do it no matter the voices in your head that won’t stop flogging you forward. That is our challenge to you today.
In the meantime, we will send you much love and many blessings and hopefully all the strength you need to be gentle with yourself today. — E. West
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……”Conversations with God”
Neale Donald Walsch, of German blood from Wisconsin, goes in his huge bestseller into a gigantic topic that another great modern spiritual teacher, Eckhart Tolle, avoids, namely “God.”
Walsch’s life and career were collapsing in every way, and suddenly he felt a strange “inspiration” to get on his keyboard and write this.
This is totally possible…. and it is not “channeling,” or “automatic writing,” where the pen or the keyboard “moves itself.”
You just feel the power in yourself, you are the one creating, and it simply flows out of you.
It is from you, in your voice, but it is from the higher you, the better you.
An example:
While I worked at Berlitz, a worldwide language school, at its branch in the Back Bay of Boston in the late 1990s, there was a fellow employee, a woman there, who was truly beautiful. She was Irish and Swedish, thus Keltic and Germanic both, and I have found this is an excellent combination of both charm and humor, on the one hand, and systematic, conscientious, punctual work on the other.
She had very rosy skin, very blue eyes, light freckles and a nice figure, a bit like the gal who is the feature dimage of this article. Just looking at her made my male heart go thump-thump-thump. 😉
Anyway, what she taught at Berlitz was French. And I was so moved by her beauty that I wrote her a poem in French.
She had no interest in me, as I was poor and also rightwing in her wealthy, leftwing Boston. 😉 Nor would I even want to be involved with a libtard (as my subsequent, tense marriage, against my better instincts, 2002-04, to a Frenchwoman amply proved, given that these people despise the things we revere, and love the things we hate…..Talk about “incompatible”!)
She was also a very “hot” woman who had her pick of the guys, AND she was in her twenties and I was 42.
Anyway, I wrote this poem in French about how beautiful she was, printed it out, signed it and put it in her mailbox, not expecting anything back, and indeed, I did get nothing back. 😉
She acknowledged it only when I asked if she had gotten it, said “Thanks, I did.” And that was it.
Sadly, I no longer have it. And I forget her name. Libtards, anyway, just make me shake my head.
But a few years later, having moved on to work for Geos, another language school in downtown Boston, I had occasion to go back to Berlitz for some reason. The fellow who assigned the Berlitz teachers their jobs and schedules, Zinedine (a Moroccan who spoke perfect French, his county having once been a French colony), saw me and greeted me.
And out of the blue he said, “Wow, you are quite a poet.”
I was flabbergasted. “Poet? …. For what poem?”
I had forgotten it.
“That one you wrote to [x] in French. She gave copies to some people here.”
He looked at me and said
“That poem was amazing. That’s why she made copies of it for others. I read it.”
And he looked at me with wonderment.
I guess, well, I must have been “in the zone.” 🙂
And free from my egoic mind…. for I knew 100% that I had no chance with this woman.
My poem was just a selfless expression of love and admiration for the northern-european beauty which she physically incarnated. In her outer form I was beholding the finest genes of our race, a race profoundly worth preserving. 🙂
The lesson I got from this was that the gods, the angels, can speak through us. Suddenly, the spirit moves you, you are at your best, and everything flows. 🙂
The true you has emerged. 🙂
Wow. 🙂
Me in 1990
…..Excerpt from “Conversations with God”
Beginning of chapter nine [with, obviously, my own photos and comments added!]:
God:
You may think this is easy, this “Be who you really are” business, but it’s the most challenging thing you’ll ever do in your life. In fact, you may never get there. Few people do. Not in one lifetime. Not in many.
Neale:
So why try? Why enter the fray? Who needs it?
Why not simply play life as if it were what it apparently is anyway — a simple exercise in meaninglessnessleading to nowhere in particular, a game you can’t lose no matter how you play [God being patient and with us being immortal souls]; a process that leads to the same result, ultimately, for everyone?
You say there is no hell [except what our own egoic minds put us in], there is no punishment, there is no way to lose, so why bother trying to win?
What is the incentive, given how difficult it is to get where You say we’re trying to go?
Why not take our good-natured time and just relax about all this God-stuff, and “Being who you really are”?
God:
My, we are frustrated, aren’t we?
Neale:
Well, I get tired of trying, trying, trying, only to have YOU come here and tell me how hard it’s going to be, and how only one in a million makes it anyway.
God:
Yes, I see that you do. Let Me see if I can help. First, I would like to point out that that you already have taken your “good-natured time” about it. Do you think that this is your first attempt at this?
Neale:
I have no idea.
God:
It doesn’t seem as if you’ve been here before?
Neale:
Sometimes.
God:
Well, you have — many times. 😉
Neale:
How many times?
God:
Many times.
Neale:
That’s supposed to encourage me?
God:
It’s supposed to inspire you.
Neale:
How so?
God:
First. it takes the worry out of it. It brings in the “can’t fail” element you just talked about.
*** Most Evil Dictator EVER believed in reincarnation
from “Table Talk at Führer Headquarters”
*** 
The great “Monty Python” comedian (right) is also a profound thinker and very right-wing.
See also:
https://johndenugent.com/?s=reincarnation
*** back to Walsch’s “Conversations with God”
[Reincarnation] assures you that the intention is for you not to fail.
….that you’ll get as many chances as you want and need.
You can come back again and again and again.
General Patton tells General Omar Bradley about fighting right there in ancient times as a Roman.
If you do get to the next step, if you evolve to the next level, it’s because you want to, not because you need to.
You don’t have to do anything!
*** This is a profound thought about free will.
Zoroaster, an ancient Aryan religious reformer in Iran (“Aryanland”), enunciated the principle of free will very clearly. There is NO merit in doing the right thing under pressure or force.
Zoroaster is depicted on an eagle.
What an amazing “coincidence” — same eagle! People have no idea I was getting us ready THEN for the coming religion NOW.
Sadly, Islam conquered Iran by force, annihilating both Zoroastrianism and much Aryan blood, then bringing, via the harem system, the nasty, hook-nosed Arab features into some of the Iranian gene pool. 🙁 🙁
*** Back to Walsch
If you enjoy life at this level,
….if you feel this is the ultimate for you,
…you can have this experience over and over and over again.
In fact, you have had it over and over and over again — for exactly that reason!
You love the drama. You love the pain. You love the “not knowing,” the mystery, the suspense!
You love it all. That’s why you are here!
Neale:
Are you kidding me?
God:
Would I kid you about a thing like that?
Neale:
I don’t know. I don’t know what God kids about. [….] 😉
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La terza versione (1883)su cinque dell’Isola dei morti(1880)di Arnold Böcklin,pittore simbolista influenzato anche da Baudelaire è molto amato dai decadenti.Il dipinto,realizzato 13 anni dopo la morte del poeta francese,padre della corrente simbolista,richiama l’atmosfera finale dei “Fleurs du Mal”.
Per Baudelaire il poeta è il sacerdote di un rito,il veggente che sa scorgere nel mondo naturale misteriose analogie, corrispondenze nascoste; ma è anche l’artista capace di usare la parola poetica e il verso sapientemente costruito,limpido e puro,per esprimere le sue intuizioni e i suoi sentimenti.
“Il poeta” – scrive Baudelaire – è come l’albatro”.
L’albatro domina col suo volo gli spazi ampi: le sue grandi ali lo rendono regale nel cielo ma se gli capita di essere catturato dai marinai si muove goffo e impacciato sul ponte della nave e diventa oggetto di scherzi e di disprezzo;e sono proprio le grandi ali che lo impacciano nel muoversi a terra.Trasgressivo e maledetto,è abituato alle grandi solitudini e alle grandi profondità delle tempeste interiori e in queste dimensioni domina sovrano;anche lui, come l’albatro,può sembrare goffo e impacciato nella realtà quotidiana, nella quale non si muove a suo agio. Egli ha il dominio della realtà fantastica, ma nella realtà materiale è un incapace e riceve l’incomprensione e il disprezzo degli uomini,esattamente come accade all’albatro.
Secondo Baudelaire, il poeta è difatti venuto sulla terra quale “angelo caduto”, per interpretare la realtà alla luce del suo sogno,ribelle alle convenzioni,inabile alla vita pratica, destinato a gettare il discredito sulle comuni passioni,a sconvolgere i cuori,a testimoniare per mezzo dell’arte d’un mondo magicamente e idealmente perfetto.
Il destino e il desiderio di Baudelaire furono però di vivere nel proprio inferno(EGO)o paradiso artificiale,fino all’ultimo,come nella lirica finale de “I fiori del male”, intitolata Il viaggio,contenuta nella sezione VI,La morte; essa riprende il tipico tema del marinaio e la morte(es. La ballata del vecchio marinaio di Coleridge),ma in modo totalmente opposto; Baudelaire infatti non perde la vita ai dadi bensì si imbarca volontariamente,senza speranza di redenzione,ma solo per l’amore di viaggiare,anche se non si tratta più dei mari del Sud:
«O Morte, vecchio capitano, è tempo! / Sù l’ancora! / Ci tedia questa terra, o Morte!
Verso l’alto, a piene vele! (…) Su, versaci il veleno / perché ci riconforti! / E tanto brucia nel cervello / il suo fuoco,
che vogliamo tuffarci nell’abisso. / Inferno o Cielo cosa importa? / Discendere l’Ignoto nel trovarvi / nel fondo alfine il NUOVO!»
Mi è venuto in mente questo poeta francese(a proposito di poesie francesi)in più lo affascinava Wagner :).Affogava i suoi vizi in qualunque cosa(il poeta maledetto!)e riversava ogni pensiero verso “l’Idea della Bellezza”(I fiori)e l’Ego satanico(Il Male),riconoscendolo.
Questo è il percorso del Mendicante che deve salire di grado,verso Dio e la Spiritualità.
Ora riconosco che questo percorso è inevitabile…
https://charlesbaudelaireifioridelmale.blogspot.com/2011/04/au-lecteur-al-lettore-poesiaprologo.html?m=1
Che dire…
PS:Hai conquistato Margi senza poesie,immagino.
Transl.
The third version (1883) out of five of the Isle of the Dead (1880) by Arnold Böcklin, a symbolist painter also influenced by Baudelaire, is much loved by decadents. The painting, created 13 years after the death of the French poet, father of the Symbolist current, recalls the final atmosphere of the “Fleurs du Mal”.
For Baudelaire, the poet is the priest of a rite, the seer who is able to discern mysterious analogies, hidden correspondences in the natural world; but he is also the artist capable of using the poetic word and the cleverly constructed, clear and pure verse, to express his intuitions and feelings.
Baudelaire wrote:
According to Baudelaire, the poet in fact came to earth as a “fallen angel”, to interpret reality in the light of his dream, rebellious against conventions, incapable of practical life, destined to discredit common passions, to upset hearts, to testify through art of a magically and ideally perfect world.
However, Baudelaire’s destiny and desire were to live in his own hell (EGO) or artificial paradise, right up to the end, as in the final lyric of “The flowers of evil”, entitled “The journey,” contained in section VI, Death; it takes up the typical theme of the sailor and death (eg Coleridge’s “Ballad of the Ancient Mariner”), but in a totally opposite way.
In fact, Baudelaire does not lose his life to dice but embarks voluntarily, with no hope of redemption, but only for the love of traveling, even if it is no longer the South Seas:
«O Death, old captain, it is time! / Raise the anchor! / This land bores us, O Death!
Upwards, in full sail! (…) Come on, pour the poison on us / to comfort us! / And so much burns in the brain / his fire,
that we want to dive into the abyss. / Hell or Heaven, what does it matter? / Descend the Unknown to find you / the NEW at the bottom! ”
I was reminded of this French poet (speaking of French poems) plus Wagner fascinated him :). He drowned his vices in everything (the accursed poet!) And he poured his every thought into “the Idea of Beauty” (I flowers) and as for the satanic Ego (Evil), he recognized it.
This is the path of the Beggar who must rise in rank, towards God and Spirituality.
Now I recognize that this path is inevitable …
https://charlesbaudelaireifioridelmale.blogspot.com/2011/04/au-lecteur-al-lettore-poesiaprologo.html?m=1
What more to say?…
PS: You conquered Margi’s heart without needing poetry, I guess. 🙂
Thanks for a very interesting comment and information.
And, yes, I won Margi with little effort. It was like some karmic thing…. East-Prussian, and we know what happened there. 🙁
And, my mother having been an artist through and through, I could understand also Margi and her caprices. Baudelaire was so right about his tribe of artists.
In Hitler and the Power of Aesthetics, by Frederic Spotts, we read that Hitler was fairly indulgent towards the private lives of truly talented artists, as long as they did not cause major scandals — including secretly gay actors (who sometimes got a visit from the Gestapo to warn them to be very discreet about it).
Artists are essential workers in our great project, national socialism!
A postcard from me, always with some beautiful image, written on December 19, 1916 to a fellow soldier at the front, Karl Lanzhammer, while I was convalescing from war wounds in Munich
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Immaginavo tutte queste cose 🙂
Anche perché oggi tutta questa discrezione non c’è più.
Gli omosessuali stanno abusando della loro posizione,e mentono in alcuni casi per prevalere.
È disgustoso 🙁
Transl:
I imagined all these things.
Also because today all the old discreetness is no longer there.
Homosexuals are flaunting and abusing their position, and are lying in some cases to take over.
It’s just disgusting.
Ho letto le dichiarazioni di Henrik Holappa sul tuo conto.
Come hai fatto a perdonare questa sua dichiarazione:”Ha picchiato Margaret, è durato tutto 15minuti,era furioso perché aveva tardato,oppure le dichiarazioni su tua madre(strettamente personali),le tue(che se fossero vere sono comunque personali!)..posso dirlo? È vergognoso,potrei utilizzare altri termini e non lo faccio solo per educazione.
Si può dire qualunque cosa ma non confessioni della propria vita o di altre persone care.
È una pugnalata incredibile.
Poteva deridere la tua reincarnazione(fatti suoi se non crede)gli UFO e il resto,anche gli occhi blu…ma non le cose strettamente personali.
No..ha ferito anche me!Perché non si possono prendere in giro le sofferenze passate di una persona,le debolezze e le azioni disperate di un essere umano.E’ uno stronzo..con tutto l’Mk-Ultra dentro e i ricatti ricevuti.
Mi spiace..non ha scuse.
Transl:
I read Henrik Holappa’s statements about you.
How did you forgive this statement: “He beat Margaret, it lasted 15 minutes, he was furious because she was late, or the statements about your mother (strictly personal), yours (that if they were true they are still personal!) .. Can I say it? It’s shameful, I could use other terms and I’m not doing it just for education.
You can say anything but confessions about your life or other loved ones.
It’s an incredible stab.
He could mock your reincarnation (his business if he doesn’t believe it) UFOs and all, even blue eyes … but not strictly personal stuff.
No … he hurt me too! Because you can’t make fun of a person’s past suffering, a human being’s weaknesses and desperate actions. He’s an asshole … with all the MK-Ultra inside and the blackmail received.
I’m sorry .. he has no excuses.
[End]
Thank you, comrade. Yes, faced with the realistic threat of oral and anal rape by Somalis in a maximum-security prison, or even murder (and we just saw a French muslim stab to death and behead his own teacher), yes, Holappa knuckled under. He failed.
But under pressure from his wife, Holappa called us, on Skype with the webcamera going, and he apologized. Margi and I witnessed it. We saw and spoke with his nice wife, who is pretty and very nice, and we saw their baby.
That was so noble.
There is more he said, but I have not published it…….
He told me the whole thing was orchestrated, starting with his arrests in Finland, to get us to invite him to America, where he could live with us, and then take me down via slander.
“Father, forgive them. They know not what they do.” — Jesus
I came here to understand… and love anyway. 🙂 And most of all, to defeat atheism and its product, narcissism, acting as if a mere human could decide morality and say any lie with impunity.
Il tuo perdono,quante volte(..)no,non credo sia mai cambiato!Ed io sento addosso secoli e secoli di tradimenti..forse per questo mi arrabbio così tanto!Mi hanno tolto tutto quello che avevo di più caro.
Non solo,sento addosso tutta la cattiveria e il disprezzo di queste persone…
Ti ho lasciato con una promessa..e non posso dimenticarla!
Transl:
Your forgiveness, on display how many times now? (..) No, I don’t think it has ever changed!
And I feel centuries and centuries of betrayals on me .. maybe that’s why I get so angry! They took away everything I had most dear to me.
Not only that, I feel all the wickedness and contempt of these people against me …
I ended a recent comment with a promise to you … and I can’t forget to keep it! 🙂
[end]
Thanks.
Jesus said it best: If we judge harshly, God will judge us harshly as well.
Think about that! 😉
Holappa had many wonderful qualities. His parents were against him, and the cops and the media. A German comrade who knew Holappa very well said he was extremely sincere.
Imagine being locked up in a cell with nine negroes intent on raping and killing you. Horrible for a woman — and even worse for a man who is masculine and has pride….. 🙁
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