Gods – once revered and died for, now dead and forgotten. Every culture thinks they are right and their gods are forever. Every culture dies away and leaves their gods as oddities in museums.
Religion is power. Spirituality is sharing.
Poetry – History
History
Blood, pain and games
Down the desert wastes of history;
A struggle
For wealth and power
Where the winners
Write the wrongs
And most
Just disappear.
History:
To slay, torture and desire,
With impunity,
In a game
That has no rules;
Where compassion
Is a stranger.
Opher – 19.12.2019
History is no more than a record of the wealthy and powerful in their ridiculous games; tales of intrigue and cruelty, greed, passion and fury in which ordinary lives are of no consequence.
It is peppered with violence and ruled by the worst of human nature.
History is a record of our failure.
Poetry – Looking Back
Looking Back
Perhaps in decades to come
You might come across an image of a man
Looking back at you from a familiar place.
You might notice his stance,
His dress and demeanour,
And ponder at the focus of his gaze.
You might wonder what he is looking at, seeing and thinking,
And wonder about his life and intent.
When you look at that frozen moment,
Forever captured in that instant,
It might stimulate your curiosity.
What was the story of that moment?
What was going through that mind?
Where was he going?
What life had he led?
What world had he moved in?
What was this moment all about?
Now when you return to that familiar place
There is an empty space where that man had once been.
Now there is a story
That will never be told.
Opher – 4.5.2019
I wrote this in response to a photograph of a canal. It was a photo taken a hundred years ago. A man was walking along the tow-path, is dark suit with a cap – only a hundred years ago, but a million miles of change. The world he lived in was an alien planet.
He was looking at the camera. His eyes were thoughtful. It made me wonder.
I am familiar with that stretch of canal. It hasn’t changed much. But the world has changed around it.
I look at the place and can picture that man. It makes me wonder what world he inhabited, his thoughts, dreams and wishes, and how his life panned out. What was in his head when he looked up that day?
Will someone look back at an image of us in a hundred years’ time and wonder?
More of Sydney on our Walkabout – photos
Shanghai – along the street, past Chiang Kai-shek’s place to the incredible Pagoda and temple.
A J P Taylor, the Historian, quotes
Carn Euny – Iron Age Village in Cornwall
In the midst of the beautiful Cornwall landscape there are the remains of an Iron Age settlement dating back to the 2nd century.
The remains are well preserved and allow you to see and feel what our ancestors lived like. You can sit on a stone and stare out through the eyes of the past.
All around us is the mystery of history. An underground passage and chamber (A fogou). Who know what strange ceremonies were carried out in there.
Finches Forge
Finches Forge was a large forge powered by water wheels. Inside you can see all the machinery and tools that were used by the blacksmiths as they set about their work. It’s obvious that this was a big operation. Many people would have been employed. One can imagine the sweat and heat.
I always find looking back at these places very salutary. Life went on unchanged for centuries – then wallop. The past was blown away. We’re in the era of endless change and technology.
It would be bewildering to the people who worked in this forge. They would have learnt their skills and craft from a long line of craftsmen. Nothing changed.
Blown away!
I was experimenting with a bit of black and white photography. What do you think?
When I was Young – Viewed from a distance.
When I was Young – Viewed from a distance.
When I was a young boy of fifteen, in 1965, it became apparent to me that I was being channelled into a groove. Everything conspired. My parents and school, the structure of society, all applied pressure. Society had a place for me. I could live a happy life. All that was required was that I knuckle down, work hard, pass my exams, avoid the pitfalls, go to university and I would have a glittering career, make lots of money, live well and live happily ever after.
It was all mapped out.
At the age of fifteen I looked ahead to a set of O Levels, followed by A Levels, a place at medical school, a good job, comfortable life, wife and kids. It was safe.
It was what my parents wanted for me. They came from humble backgrounds and had bettered themselves. They saw education as the passport to a better life. They wanted me to have an easier life than them. They were right.
But I had been reading Kerouac. I had been reading Ginsberg. I had been listening to Dylan and Woody Guthrie. At the age of fifteen I knew I had a decision to make.
Did I want a quiet, comfortable life? Or did I want a life of adventure?
Kerouac had opened up a world of madness, road trips, adventure, crazy driving, sex and drugs and Jazz. It was outside of society.
It made me look at the society I was part of. Did I really want to spend my life accruing money, cars, houses and suits? Did I like the look of the society I was living in? It’s greed, acquisitiveness, inequalities, aggression, racism, violence, hypocritical religion and plastic meaninglessness.
At fifteen I decided that I did not like the values of the society I was part of. I did not like its hypocrisy – god, queen and country. I did not like its smugness, arrogance and old boys’ network; its class divisions, xenophobia, narrowmindedness and boring suburbia. I thought that the pursuit of money was a meaningless exercise.
At fifteen I had it sussed.
By seventeen I was going to loud rock concerts. I had discovered Roy Harper, Captain Beefheart and a mind expanding universe. I was hanging out with the outsiders. I was searching for something more meaningful and honest. I had discovered girls, alcohol and fun.
I wanted crazy!!
I made a decision.
My studies went by the board. Friends, girls, parties, music and mad talking, talking, talking – trying to make sense of life. Zen, travel, sex and excitement.
I was always in trouble at school – my hair, my clothes, my attitude – but I was popular with the girls and had a good group of friends. My parents despaired. They thought I was throwing away my future. I was young, obstinate and headstrong. I did just enough to get by. I didn’t listen.
I knew the lifestyle I wanted and it wasn’t playing that conformity game. I had my motorbike and my freedom. I was poor but rich in experience.
There are many pitfalls and I saw a number of my friends drop into them – addiction, madness, suicide, pregnancy, prison, accidents. Life isn’t easy. For many it is tragic.
I had a little rude awakening at the age of twenty-five when it became apparent that I needed to make a living, but I managed to find a niche in teaching that did not compromise my ideals too much and enabled me to pursue my creativity.
I look back now from the age of seventy-two. That fifteen-year-old did not really find the answers to all the mysteries he was so enthralled with at that age. He gave up Zen. But he did discover literature, art, dance, music and wine. He did some chemical exploration. He avoided becoming a casualty. He did have a life of adventure, creativity, excitement, friendship and love as well as a career that was fulfilling and valid. He did not have to sacrifice his ideals. He did find the compromise that worked and now lives comfortably with his memories while looking ahead to more adventure and creativity.
Regrets?
Life’s what you decide to make it.
Poetry – The Alphabet of Life
The Alphabet of Life
Each letter, each word,
Each sentence, paragraph and chapter
Is precious.
Any loss leaves a hole
In the telling of our tale.
We become as impoverished
As empty
As the blank pages
We create.
What profiteth a man
When he has gained
The whole sterile globe
But lost
More than he will ever know?
Opher 25.6.2018
The Alphabet of Life
I was thinking about the incredible DNA molecule that spells out the alphabet of life. Back in the beginning that first amazing molecule started the ball rolling. We have all descended from that. We are all related. Every single cell of life is wondrous, precious and miraculous.
Yet we are destroying life at an increasing rate, driving species after unique species into extinction. Yet every single species is precious.
We should certainly respect it more!!