A Simple Note

A Simple Note's plaint
an elegy for all to know

A Simple Boy's wishes
for a sweet gentle escape
secretly hiding behind intractable drapes

A Simple Heart's sensation
Of grieving and shame
Are the offshoots of self imposed blame

A Simple Life passing
The end draws nigh
like water to grasp slips by

A Simple Memory's balm
gentle and warm
of stolen breaths

A Simple Life cycling
by way of timorous moments
vacant of a pledge

A Simple Man-Child
sleuthing for truth
From now existing to youth

A Simple Boy's words
simply written et facta est lux
will forevermore shine

A Simple Soul's adieu
A farewell to a crossed in love world

to leave to its own

A Simple Note's
words simply sweet
of torments he did not seek

A Simple Note's goodbye
Is Simply not

MDJD

Do not go gentle

Do not go gentle into that good night,
Old age should burn and rave at close of day;
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.
Though wise men at their end know dark is right,
Because their words had forked no lightning they
Do not go gentle into that good night.

Good men, the last wave by, crying how bright
Their frail deeds might have danced in a green bay,
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

Wild men who caught and sang the sun in flight,
And learn, too late, they grieved it on its way,
Do not go gentle into that good night.

Grave men, near death, who see with blinding sight
Blind eyes could blaze like meteors and be gay,
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

Dylan Thomas

To learn about Dylan Thomas goto:

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Dylan_Thomas

AT THE RIVER CROSSING

Oh! the quiet river-crossing
Where we twain were wont to ride,
Where the wanton winds were to sing
Willow branches o'er the tide.



There the golden noon would find us
Dallying through the summer day,
All the waery world behind us -
All it's tumult far away.

Oh! thoe rides across the crossing
Where the shallow stream runs wide,
When the sunset's beams were glossing
Strips of sand on either side.

We would cross the sparkling river
On the brown horse and the bay;
Watch the willows sway and shiver
And their trembling shadows play.

When the opal tints waxed duller
And a gray crept o'er the skies
Yet there stayed the blue sky's color
In your dreamy dark-blue eyes.

How the sun-god's bright caresses,
When we rode at sunet there,
Plaited among your braided tresses,
Gleaming on your silky hair.

When the last sunlight's glory
Faded off the sandy bars,
There we learnt the old, old story,
Riding homeward 'neat the stars.

'Tis a memory to be hoarded -
Oh, the follish tale and fond!
Till another stream be forded -
And we reach the Great Beyond.

Harry ("Breaker") Morant

The Black Dog

Causal Nexus anterior of my being,
Has my mind’s eye flashing
life's span of fretful moments.
Some amiable, some of grief,
Most are inane. Only to be stolen by another;
then another.
No peace

Important or not the few anamnesis,
But who is to say which they were.

The Black Dog is the purveyor.
And he does not change his mine so easily.
So now…whether for vengeance or my protection
I take my sword and do battle with this scourge .
I will not lie cowering in my own filth begging to die.
And maybe just maybe
to become a star
or maybe a galaxy.

To conclude where beings may dwell
to care for each other
as they themselves wish to be cared.
To live death better than the best lived life.

An interminable war;
this struggle for my essence.

MDJD

.

You are not to blame...here's why

Please forgive me. For what will happen. It is not about any of you. It is only about me. For what will happen did not happen because of any one thing, person or event. It’s time to end the anguish. I have suffered for so long; too long.

People may say, “What was it that made him suffer so much that it came to this”. These people never knew me. And if there are people who knew not the answer, let it be a mystery. Let’s just say that I tired. I tired to the point I was paralyzed physically. I tired to the point I was paralyzed mentally.

I have been on a search for an answer to my condition; looking for an answer to my melancholy.

There have been many suggestions. A coterminous to an answer is in a book called Malignant Sadness by Lewis Wolpert. I recommend this book for anyone wanting an understanding of what makes his or her family and friends “tick” (so to speak).

Lately, I have been attributing my perdition to what I call “The Melancholy Gene" and "Karma”.

The Melancholy Gene:

Excerpt: 'Against Happiness'by Eric G. Wilson

Eric G. Wilson argues for the vital need for sadness in the world.

Wake Forest University

“This gene, this melancholy gene, has proved the code for innovation. It has produced over the centuries our resplendent towers, yearning heavenward. It has created our great epics, god-hungry. It has concocted our memorable symphonies, as tumultuously beautiful as the first ocean. Without this sorrowful genome, these sublimities would have remained in the netherworld of nonexistence. Indeed, without this genetic information, sullen and ambitious, what we see as culture in general, that empyreal realm of straining ideas, might have never arisen from the mere quest for survival, from simple killing and eating.”

This is an accurate description of what I am trying to describe; The Melancholy Gene. I want to believe this. I really do. I cannot see this point of view while I suffer. I just cannot include myself in this encapsulation of the description. I have not contributed anything to this world except maybe the aggravating people. I cannot think of one person I made happy. I have not made a contribution. At least no one has ever told me I have.

“The Melancholia Gene”: I was born with this gene just as everyone in my family. It is in my family DNA; in our genetic makeup. You may equate this to the history of heart disease in a family. Not everyone in the family may be inflicted. Be thankful. It selects you and no one knows the criteria of that selection. Who knows when or how or why you are selected. Only the gene knows. It is not necessary that you suffer from it; its there waiting; waiting for its attack. It may be an event or a series of events that may elicit the onset. It can happen anytime in a person’s life.

It is more suitable to have this assault happen to an adult it. An adult‘s mind has matured enough to understand the event that caused the onset of the affliction. The adult may be able to

deal with the event and sort out solutions; limiting the damage to the psyche.

If this assault happens to an immature mind, as in a child while in development, the affliction becomes part of the child’s personality makeup and would “scar” them for life.

My afflication begin many years ago. In my pre-teens. I will not go into details because it will sound like a blame game. Let's just say that events were out of my control and no one was looking after me. No no was there to help me undersatand and explain that it was not my fault. And now that I am older I know that nothing was my fault for I was a child. But now it is too late. The damage has been done.

My KARMA:
Definition: The total effect of a person's actions and conduct during the successive phases of the person's existence, regarded as determining the person's destiny.

Letme just say it was bound to happen. I have felt this dooming feeling since a teenager. I have always felt as an outcast; not part of anything. The typical thing people say about their depression.

Unfortunately, I was not one of the lucky ones. It was unavoidable in my case. The reason I say this is because of karma. It was my fate. I was destined and vulnerable to suffer from this affliction. My Karma would not let me defeat or overcome this depression of spirit; the loss of hope, confidence, and courage.

So...If you want to apply the 80% / 20% rule:

80% part - The Melancholy Gene

20% part - Karma

So I plan for my end. The funny part of this whole planning thing is how difficult it is. How I am to keep it a secret without people knowing what is about to happen.

Since I cannot take the trip I always wanted, I am taking a mini version. I am going to see the coastline. I am going to see the mountains. I wish to see beautiful things again. And as usual, I will see these things alone. I will take pictures. They will be in my camera when I am found. I'll try to look happy.

I often reflect of the lasting effect of 9/11 on an adult versus the lasting effect to children. I can only imagine what images and chaos of that day and the effects ingrained in children. Adults were mostly sadden and/or angry. Children were confused, afraid and felt vulnerable. By the time children are old enough to begin to understand, the damage to their psyche will have already been. The scar is in place. How it manifests itself will depend on if it has been "treated" when as a child. Take care of the children. I beg you.

This is just an example. I am no expert by far. I don't claim to be.