Advocating for Peace: A Facebook Rant that Never Made it to Facebook

“Harsh words can destroy friendship.  Since happiness arises in the context of our relationships with others, if we destroy friendships, we undermine one of the very conditions of happiness itself.”
~ H.H. the Dalai Lama

I fully support inner peace and happiness
I think we all should. I mean, we’d all be happier and more willing to resolve our problems together if we brought our heads down from the argumentative forum.
No one likes to suffer. No one likes to stay angry and feel that the world is unjust and that there’s nothing to be done about it because they feel that they’re voices have been suppressed.
That’s simply not true.
No one can take someone’s voice and power away,
Not without the consent of that person.
Not that it’s the individuals fault for losing her or his voice and confidence.
I only mean that you are the only one who can say whether or not you have a voice.

Putting up barriers and defensive questions doesn’t reach out to others in a debate.
Instead it retracts and pulls the speaker into herself.
No need to fight.
We’re all on the same page here. To be happy and at peace with each other
Hate fuels hate.
Love will bring more love.
Demonizing each other does not justify ANYTHING
And by choosing sides one loses all perspective
If you have the opportunity, climb above the chaos to see the bigger picture
And then speak for those who need a voice. That’s the difference.  Advocating instead of fighting.
By Advocating, you have an opportunity to meditate between different ideas and find resolution.  
Chat Conversation End
Just to note, I don’t want to insinuate anything about the current events have been happening around the world.  I’ve never really presented a strong opinion on this blog, but I feel that being an advocate for peace is something that I’m not afraid for which to stand up.  Thanks for understanding 🙂 
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Dream and Lie of Franco : A Response to War and Dictatorship

"Dream and Lie of Franco,"  Pablo Picasso, 1937
“Dream and Lie of Franco,”
Pablo Picasso, 1937
"Dream and Lie of Franco," Pablo Picasso, 1937 (Panel 2)
“Dream and Lie of Franco,” Pablo Picasso, 1937 (Panel 2)

fandango of shivering owls., souse of swords of evil-omened polyps I scouring – brush of hairs from priests’ tonsures standing naked in the middle of the frying-pan – placed upon the ice cream cone of codfish fried in the scabs of his lead-ox heart – his mouth full of the chinch-bug jelly of his words – sleigh bells of the plate of snails braiding guts –little finger In erection neither grape nor fig”–commedia dell’arte of poor weaving and dyeing of clouds -“beauty creams from the garbage wagon – rape of maids in tears and in snivels ..- on his shoulder the shroud stuffed with sausages and mouths – rage distorting the outline of the shadow which flogs his teeth driven in the sand and the horse open Wide to the sun which reads it to the flies that stitch to the knots of the net full of anchovies, the sky-rocket of lilies – torch of lice where the dog is knot of rats and hiding-place of the palace of old rags – the banners which fry in the pan writhe in the black of the ink-sauce shed in the drops of blood which shoot him – the street rises to the clouds tied by its feet to the sea of wax which rots its entrails and the veil which covers it sings and dances wild with pain ~ the flight of fishing rods and the alhigui alhigui of the first-class burial of the moving van – the broken wings rolling upon the spider’s web of dry bread and clear water of the paella of sugar and velvet which the lash paints upon his cheeks -the light covers its eyes before the mirror which apes it and the nougat bar of the flames bites its lips at .the wound – cries of children, cries of women, cries of birds, cries of flowers, cries of timbers, and of stones, cries of bricks, cries of furniture, of beds, of chairs, of curtains, of pots, of cats, and of papers, cries of odors which claw at one another, cries of smoke pricking the shoulder of the cries which stew in the cauldron and of the rain of birds which inundates the sea which gnaws the bone and breaks its teeth biting the cotton wool which the sun mops up from the plate which the purse and the pocket hide in the print which the foot leaves in the rock.

Mnemosyne

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It’s autumn in the country I remember.

How warm a wind blew here about the ways!
And shadows on the hillside lay to slumber
During the long sun-sweetened summer-days.

It’s cold abroad the country I remember.

The swallows veering skimmed the golden grain
At midday with a wing aslant and limber;
And yellow cattle browsed upon the plain.

It’s empty down the country I remember.

I had a sister lovely in my sight:
Her hair was dark, her eyes were very sombre;
We sang together in the woods at night.

It’s lonely in the country I remember.

The babble of our children fills my ears,
And on our hearth I stare the perished ember
To flames that show all starry thro’ my tears.

It’s dark about the country I remember.

There are the mountains where I lived. The path
Is slushed with cattle-tracks and fallen timber,
The stumps are twisted by the tempests’ wrath.

But that I knew these places are my own,
I’d ask how came such wretchedness to cumber
The earth, and I to people it alone.

It rains across the country I remember.

Mnemosyne by Trumbull Stickney 

Definition of Mnemosyne:  the Greek goddess of memory and mother of the Muses by Zeus

1874-1904, American Poet

What do you get out of his poetry, how do you feel, and how can you relate to anything from his poem?