Ash smash

I am in awe of the notorious ash cloud. Shutting down the entire European air space is no mean feat. You would think this semi disaster would make people wonder just what we are doing to our Earth. But people aren't. They just want their damn flight refunds. Oh boo hoo people, you got a longer vacation then you planned, get over it.

So there.
K

Madness Wrapped in a Dead Guy

Here are the facts:
1) Older man dies from natural causes
2) Wife and step daughter proceed to take him to the airport to catch his flight, the day after he dies.
3) Man is strapped into a wheelchair and eyes are covered with sunglasses
4) Airport desk attendant notices his deadness
5) Both women arrested

Here is what the two women are claiming:
1) They didn't realize he was dead
2) Even when they tried to wake him, dressed him, put him in a wheelchair, covered his eyes, drove him to the airport, they didn't realize he had died, the day before......

Now either, the two women are using the most ridiculous excuse in the entire world and possibly universe, or else he was the most silent, non moving, mute, human to ever live (or die, I suppose).

Madness!!
K
PS Although this seems like an American story, this happened in the UK over the weekend.

Women Suicide Bombers - Religious or Political?

Since the Moscow Underground bombings, suicide bombers have been repeatedly dissected in the news. Particularly women bombers. In Russia they are called Black Widows, women whose husbands have been killed in the rebel wars with Russia.

One of the Moscow bombers was a 17 year old women, and the wide spread posting of her photo; the one where is is sitting on her husband's lap holding a revolver, makes me consider her motivations. It is hard to determine whether she was political to the point of suicide before her husband died, though I doubt it. One can fight for a cause without giving their life. I can only assume that after her husbands death, she was manipulated through her sorrow and pain to become a human bomb. I'm sure she was told she would become a martyr and the "cause" would be better for it. For her, it was likely just revenge, one of the most powerful emotions.

Since suicide bombers are not widespread in the Western world, it is hard to understand how someone could use themselves to cause such destruction. Here in the West, we hide behind guns, and in rooms before we cause similar destruction. Is there much difference? Is it because we, in the West, seek approval for our actions? We need the rewards? Or is is because we have morals? We are less passionate about politics or religion?

I am undecided.

I would like to think we don't have suicide bombers because we find it reprehensible, but I know that is untrue. We have done far worse things.

K.

Today

The fragrance floats in on the breeze.

It is a freshness, a renewal.

The scent wakens me.

I feel alive, ready.

I step outside.

My senses are bombarded.

I believe this is bliss.

I walk towards town.

Through the country.

I have no fear here.

No hate, no cares.

But tomorrow is a new day.

I shrug to myself and smile.

Walk on.

This is me.

I use to think

that poetry could only be

from a place of sadness

of sorrow

of loneliness.

I use to think

that I could only write

when I felt down,

low

or

sad.

Now I know

I can write

simple poems

from a place of happiness

of love

of togetherness.

I can write

because I can.

Because I am happy.

Because I am free.

Because I am.

Press Play

I'm stuck on pause

Someone press play

I need to go forward

I need to go ahead

I'm a blur on the screen,

Waiting,

For something to happen

I needs to be me

To press the buttons

To change my life

To make things right

Together, we need to go forward

Lets get a new machine

One with better buttons

One with no pause

Only with Play

Lets go

Lets live

Now.

This is the Foray

So, this is the beginning. The start of something completely different and foreign to me. With this blog I will try to keep atop the goings on in my life that intrigue me, scare me, challenge me, and push me.

This is my foray. This is the foray.