NAPKIN WORDS #100 2011 - Dedicated to my Brother-In-Law Mike Prevor

1. WHAT TO DO WITH TIME
Time matters, but individually, since there is not
a single thing the individual can do about time.
My advice is to simply forget about it, don’t let
time bother you at any stage of life.

With that said, I also remember that time was very
slow when I was young and in school. Also when I
served my years in the military and when I had
my first career job, the entry level period for both,
seemed to last forever.

Then there is the present and ever present
question:

Where did time rush to, where did it go?

Also, there is the future tense of time:

Where shall I go, or shall I go someplace once I am
gone from this time?

It seems to me that time is telling you not to pay
any attention to me, while I am telling you not to
pay any attention to time.

One of us is right about time. One of us is wrong
about time!

2. LIBERTY
Freedom can’t be a wish, it must be an obligation!


3. FUNNY HOW TRUE THIS SAYING IS
They say that “A fool and his money are soon
parted.”*

In our modern world, we see it most often with
men of power who can’t keep their fool in their
pants, or their hands out of our pockets.

Either way, they make us poorer!
*Thomas Tusser wrote this poem in the sixteenth century entitled :

FIVE HUNDRED POINTS OF GOOD HUSBANDRY

4. REALITIES AND APPEARANCE TODAY
If you wish an answer, ask a question.

If not seeking an answer, look calmly at life, avoid
looking inquisitive.

It only creates confusion among those with no
answer, who are looking at you for the answer!

5. THE EMERGENCY ROOM
He had us all climbing the mountain of hope with
his wondrous rhetoric.

Then ignored us, could not do as he promised, so
we broke many bones, failing and falling down
slopes of that very same mountain he had us climb!
What was it that we found, that we had to descend
that mountain so rapidly?

At the very top of that mountain was a sign he
himself had painted. It read: DESPAIR!

6. WHAT I HAVE FOUND
The more I live, and I have lived a long time, in
many places, the more I am starting to understand
that the greatest suspect is not the thief or the
criminal.

The one most suspected, is one whose act of
kindness is offered freely.

Something occurred in the recent past that turned
this simple act of humanity into a word of great
suspicion, and that I find saddest of all!

7. LIKE ALL THINGS
Freedom has a price.

You will either have to pay it as a tax, or made to
pay it as a criminal charge.

It is up to you only in the sense, that one way or
another, someone just like you, helped place into
power either those who are taxing you or those
who are imprisoning you.

It is you who must ask: Who am I willing to pay?

DAWNING SUN OVER AN OCEAN

Its center is a shimmering sparkle, glistening golden.
Surrounding this orb, is a thin burning glaze so bright
it pains the eye.

The measuring plane off the horizon takes two minutes to arise three inches. It leaves an astonishing, almost sensuous, undulating roadway of soft yellow, which embarks where my world seems to end, and ends upon the beige diamond sand shore where my first steps into this ocean begins.

The gentle sea weaves foaming white caps into teal planes, sinuous in movement, welcoming all those freedoms of winged creatures, yet asking; where are they as atoms glitter in the broadening light yet heaven is empty of activity? Question of yourself why humanity knows so little about how all other species honor their maker! Perhaps they are resting on their many perches applauding with envy and awe, newest arrivals of another morn.

An ever-growing tumble of noise is heard as earth's mighty blanket of brine awakens to guide beams of light. Far away, a ship glistens for a second as it is pinpointed, fingered by excess of light, then moves over sight edge, gone into sorrows, tears of missing.

Roadway fragments pitch and toss, yet keeps its course as impish hands of God uplift his blazing toy of life. A whitish gray wisp of a cloud plays with a now brightly lit sky. Suddenly, a human runner rushes, as if ancient Mercury, across sparks of sand, sinking his footsteps into watery graves. Mortality notes that there are no prayers in the bosom of Mother Sea, which moves with eternity, to and fro.


by Edward Hunter