Month: January 2016


If certainty so fine Were something that were mine, If I knew God a myth, I’d envelope my soul, Lick it, stamp it, and go Myself to mail it, forthwith. st, 1979 Talca ___________________ © 1979, R.S. Adamcik

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Mira como me asombras Desde las puertas de mi pasado! Oscura, apenas visible, Me llamas a señas Que nos juntemos. Pero al tomar el primer paso, Te veo desvanciendo A la oscuridad del otro lado; Y al acercarme, encuentro Solo el espacio vacío Que un instante atrás Sentía la presencia De tu sagrado ser. st, +/- June 2004 Falls Church...

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He no longer is…

We don’t seem to have a word to describe someone who no longer is.  We can only express the person in question as the subject of an active verb.  For example, “He’s dead now.”  But how can someone who no longer “is” be anything? I’m being facetious, sure.  But we don’t seem to grasp someone no longer existing.  What does it mean, anyway?  A friend once observed that people tend to think of the past as some distant place, that if we just try hard enough, if we could just travel far enough, we could see Bobby Kennedy or Martin Luther King, or our granddads walking up over that distant hill to say hello.  But they are gone, they are “ex-people!” to paraphrase John Cleese describing his infamous dead parrot. We might better grasp death’s finality if we just said, “He no longer is…,” as in: 1st person:  “How’s ol’ Jim Bob these days?” 2nd person:  “Oh, I’m sorry, he’s not. 1st person:  “Not?  Not what? 2nd person:  “Just…not.” In effect, there is no such thing as Jim Bob anymore....

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They differ, mem’ry, regret? I think so, but not sure yet. What the cost, the give and get? What the bargain and the debt? In the balance, the final net, I’m thinking that I lost the bet. st, 2015 Falls Church (?) ___________________ © 2015, R.S. Adamcik

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Being human is kind of like being on a giant ocean liner…

…where you are not there by choice, you can’t get off, you don’t how long you have to travel, and you don’t know the destination!  Oh, and you can’t choose which class of cabin you were assigned when you (somehow) came aboard.  It’s a huge mystery. You hear from fellow passengers any number of myths about what’s in the ocean depths beyond the ship, and equally about the destination.  Some are delivered in absolute certainty. And any number of people go about in uniforms claiming to be in charge, giving any number of explanations about how you all came to be there and where you are going. You may even grasp at one to make sense of it all. Meantime, people die and are tossed overboard, into the unknown depths.  Again, all around you are myths of those depths, a distant and utopian Atlantis or a dystopian netherworld… The problem in all of this:  You can choose to believe anything, but what can you really know? ================== Obviously, this metaphor could be carried further.  But the point is the same:  We are not in control, and while we may believe anything, we know nothing.  The only certainty we actually have is all around us, our fellow passengers.  So, what does that suggest?...

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