Resting Place

Hark, fair wind,

Take my soul

To a peaceful harbor

Beyond yon horizon.

All Poetry — Henry Barnard

My Story

 

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Youth Suicide

Heart breaking story of a young woman living in the West Village who hanged herself. Left a note saying in effect that she always felt alone even when with friends.  I suppose that means we all need to have a real connection with someone else at some point or the soul spirals downhill.  Also in the note, she apologized to her mother for what she was about to do.

My Story

White Point Garden, Charleston

M.F. Williams, William Gilmore Simms, Charles Lee, William Jasper —

You walk past these obscure names unknowingly.

Just names carved in stone long, long ago

Before your time…before our time.

 

You walk by the names unknowingly,

Their memory tarnished by time’s forgetfulness.

No doubt, brave souls and valorous every one,

But not even stone resurrects their remembrance.

 

In New England, this very day, snowflakes come down.

One by one they land on the ground,

Yet when the warm spring comes around,

All the flakes are gone with no trace or sound.

 

 

 

Fallen Leaves

In passing, my uncle John said she is gone.
She was such a sweet siren-song
In my youth — and oh so strong.
How can it be…that she is gone?

My buddy Jim succumbed to a disease.
We fell in with each other with such ease —
A true brother in spirit all lifelong.
How can it be…that he is gone?

My sister…always looking out for me.
She could even find me up a tree.
Big sis, a guardian angel all along.
How can it be…that she is gone?

My parents, they doted on me.
My mom bounced me on her knee.
My dad and I golfed all day long.
How can it be…that they are gone?

All of them — gone, gone, gone.
How can it be…that all are gone?

All Poetry — Henry Barnard

My Story

What do you get for a one dollar contribution? My gratitude.

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Do It Again?

Toward the end of your days, you are given the classic test whether you were satisfied with your life.  You are given the option to live your life all over again — the whole thing up to the present moment.  But the caveat is that you cannot change a single thing.  Everything will happened just as it did the first time around.  Would you choose to do it again or would you choose not to?

My Story

What do you get for a one dollar contribution? My gratitude.

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Death and the Afterlife

Is there an afterlife?  Religious people always think so, and how you are treated in the afterlife is based on how well you behaved while alive, so for them there is even a kind of morality involved in death — good people are rewarded, while bad people pay a dear price — for an eternity no less.  Fine.

I know we can’t peek beyond the grave, but let’s just think about what is undeniable about death.  For one thing, you won’t have the 5 senses you have now to interface with whatever the reality is after death.  You won’t be able to see anything because you won’t have eyes; you won’t be able to smell anything because you won’t have a nose — in fact, all 5 senses are not going to be available to you.  Another thing that is certainly missing is the brain.  You won’t be able to think any thoughts because you won’t have a brain anymore to think them.

So exactly how is such an afterlife existence supposed to work with the 5 senses and your brain missing?  Just try to imagine that — that’s not so simple.  When I do, I come up with zero, that is, I can’t imagine any kind of existence without the 5 senses or a brain.  You might say something like it’s like you are lying in bed in the middle of the night, and you close your eyes and see pitch blackness.  But that isn’t believable either because without eyes, you wouldn’t see blackness — you wouldn’t see, period.

Frankly, an afterlife is ridiculous from the get go because it is simply not practical.  And that you would be rewarded or punished in the afterlife based on your behavior while alive — please!

My Story

 

 

What do you get for a one dollar contribution? My gratitude.

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