Poetry

There are giants out there beyond the horizon where eyes can see.

Spring for them is harvest as everything begins to wake, and they begin to feed, pulling growth out from its dormant, winter state.

I watched two of them work, with faces to the Earth, arched backs, arms and hands stirring the wind, scattering the animals.

Where they moved, life moved, with a flurry, a surge, a rejuvenation, ceaselessly driving the movement forward and upward with the strain of their pull followed by the release, the relaxed limbs, the settle stares, the perched thoughts, nestled under shimmering sunlight,


Poetry

Individual consciousness is the total energy created by the symbiotic relationship between the body and mind.

That total energy is experienced as awareness and actualizes itself through action.

The experience of awareness is perspective, and perspective is individual and inherently dualistic.

Life grows, and consciousness, being living, grows.

As energy created by the mind, it grows through thought and imagination.

As energy created by the body, it grows through action and emotion.

As the total energy created by the relationship between the body and mind, it grows as personality, supported by memory and through interaction with the environment it…


Photo by Jingming Pan on Unsplash

When Gold was first discovered, it was not used as money. It took hundreds and hundreds of years for us to begin using it as such. We see gold being used as money in China as early as 1091 B.C. with the Lydians creating the first precious metal coins (electrum, an alloy of gold and silver) as early as 700 B.C. Fast forward to today and it’s still seen and used as money.

So why gold?

On the surface it may seem arbitrary to us modern folk, given our technological progress, to use shiny metal as a store of value…


Photo by Art Rachen on Unsplash

“History never repeats, but it often rhymes.” — Mark Twain

We know the quote. Heard and read it a hundred times. But how does it even begin to relate to cryptocurrencies!?

Well, as far as the West is concerned, the music began in 1661 with the creation of the first bank notes in Sweden by the Bank of Stockholm under the direction of its founder, Johan Palmstruch.

Prior to the release of those banknotes, people used copper, silver, and gold. This was the first time in Western history that paper currency was introduced. Ever.

Seriously, think about that.

Imagine the…


Rant

There’s an assumption that with privilege comes no work, or very little. Money is given, not earned. And after reading enough articles laden with self-righteous jealousy, it’s easy to become, you know, self-righteous and jealous of ‘the privileged.’

Anecdotal story:

I worked for a small ‘mom-and-pop’ inn in Bar Harbor, Maine for several years. If you don’t know the town, it’s on Mount Desert Island, home to Acadia National Park, and used to be (and still is to some extent) the summering place of the wealthy (Rockefellers, Carnegies, Fords, etc). …


Poetry

From whence

O Tide

of Morning Seed.

Blown west

and down

the vapid hill.

Takes root

does sprout

in spoiled land.

On Earth

and mind

and trodden heart.

Upheaved,


Poetry

I’m standing on the edge of the driveway,

just before it touches the sidewalk and spills out onto the barren street.

I pace at the edge,

sometimes feigning with my foot to pass that barrier.

There is ground fog beginning to settle

swaddling the light coming from the streetlights,

bathing it in a slight haze.

The hum of the window units

rattles the metal building opposite the shared parking lot,

and evaporates into the sky.

It must be around three in the morning.

I turn back to the edge,

What a gap it is.

And just before the gap,


Poetry

Always pay the question.

Whether rhetorical or vocal, pay the question.

Unless you long to look like the ampersand,

just pay the question.

Exclamation points, though loud

and sometimes…


Poetry

Come four am my brain is a puddle.

A recessed pool of jetted thoughts

all bubbling and dissipating.

I sit motionless

in the warm afterthoughts

gurgling about me.

I…


Poetry

I was chosen at the end of fourth grade.

It grabbed hold of my head and began pressing

into the shape of a box.

Mine was stubborn I was told,

so the clamp enlisted the aid of a Stinger,

a wasp-like needle with an unknown solution

injected into the top of the spine

just below the base of the skull.

I gave way.

The clamp finished its pressing

and said it would be back to make sure the form holds.

I stumbled out of the office

onto the hot asphalt, into a cool liquid fire.

It took effect immediately;

Nick Doidge

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