Rather than love, than money, than faith, than fame, than fairness.. give me truth!
-Into the wild
@PensivePost
-Into the wild
@PensivePost
A pound of butter
There was a farmer who sold a pound of butter to a baker. One day the baker decided to weigh the butter to see if he was getting the right amount, which he was not. Angry about this, he took the farmer to court. The judge asked the farmer if he was using any measure to weight the butter. The farmer replied, “Honor, I am primitive. I dont have a proper measure, but I do have a scale.” The judge asked, “Then how do you weigh the butter?” The farmer replied; “Your honor, long before the baker started buying butter from me, I have been buying a pound loaf of bread from him. Everyday when the baker brings the bread, I put it on the scale and give him the same weight in butter. If anyone is to be blamed, it is the baker."
We get back in life what we give to others. Honesty and dishonesty become a habit. Some people practice dishonesty and can lie with a straight face. Others get into illusion and forget what the truth is. In the end, they are deceiving themselves.
@PensivePost #story #life
There was a farmer who sold a pound of butter to a baker. One day the baker decided to weigh the butter to see if he was getting the right amount, which he was not. Angry about this, he took the farmer to court. The judge asked the farmer if he was using any measure to weight the butter. The farmer replied, “Honor, I am primitive. I dont have a proper measure, but I do have a scale.” The judge asked, “Then how do you weigh the butter?” The farmer replied; “Your honor, long before the baker started buying butter from me, I have been buying a pound loaf of bread from him. Everyday when the baker brings the bread, I put it on the scale and give him the same weight in butter. If anyone is to be blamed, it is the baker."
We get back in life what we give to others. Honesty and dishonesty become a habit. Some people practice dishonesty and can lie with a straight face. Others get into illusion and forget what the truth is. In the end, they are deceiving themselves.
@PensivePost #story #life
A Word From The Foetus
'I'm warm and feeling safe
as I move around my room
everything is soft and gentle
inside my mother's womb.
I can tell that I am growing
as the time goes by, at pace
I've got little hands and feet
a tiny nose upon my face.
My heart I can hear beating
as the blood pumps through my veins,
I am aware of many things
and, I'm thinking with my brains.
I know the day is coming
when I will laugh and play;
and have a lot of fun
with my friends on my birthday.
What a time I'll have
as I grow up to be
that special kind of person
to that someone who'll love me.
'Oh, I'm feeling pain
is there nowhere I can hide?
my little hands have been cut off
by the scalpel that's in my side!
my legs are being torn apart
I'm screaming in my blood,
no one seems to hear me
as I drown in the flood.
Help me, oh please help me
they're cutting off my head;
I'll never have a birthday
because my now, I'm dead! '
'There is a gentle voice I hear
that says, 'I love you so'
and arms that hold me really close
a great peace overflows.
I'm not afraid, I've lots of friends
I have a 'brand new' home,
a place of love, joy and peace
I play before God's throne.'
Then a mighty voice does cry,
'Rest child at my Mount
'til my Day of Inquisition;
when someone will give account! ! '
@PensivePost #poetry by #RichardMerrell
'I'm warm and feeling safe
as I move around my room
everything is soft and gentle
inside my mother's womb.
I can tell that I am growing
as the time goes by, at pace
I've got little hands and feet
a tiny nose upon my face.
My heart I can hear beating
as the blood pumps through my veins,
I am aware of many things
and, I'm thinking with my brains.
I know the day is coming
when I will laugh and play;
and have a lot of fun
with my friends on my birthday.
What a time I'll have
as I grow up to be
that special kind of person
to that someone who'll love me.
'Oh, I'm feeling pain
is there nowhere I can hide?
my little hands have been cut off
by the scalpel that's in my side!
my legs are being torn apart
I'm screaming in my blood,
no one seems to hear me
as I drown in the flood.
Help me, oh please help me
they're cutting off my head;
I'll never have a birthday
because my now, I'm dead! '
'There is a gentle voice I hear
that says, 'I love you so'
and arms that hold me really close
a great peace overflows.
I'm not afraid, I've lots of friends
I have a 'brand new' home,
a place of love, joy and peace
I play before God's throne.'
Then a mighty voice does cry,
'Rest child at my Mount
'til my Day of Inquisition;
when someone will give account! ! '
@PensivePost #poetry by #RichardMerrell
I will never close the gap between who I am and who I want to be because "who I want to be" is a moving target.
@PensivePost #RandomThoughts
@PensivePost #RandomThoughts
We live in a world where art is to take a photo that looks like a drawing or make a drawing that looks like a photo.
@PensivePost #RandomThoughts
@PensivePost #RandomThoughts
"Men can starve from a lack of self-realization as much as they can from a lack of bread."
@PensivePost
@PensivePost
Either we’re alone in the universe or we aren’t. Either possibility is mind-boggling.
@PensivePost #RandomThoughts
@PensivePost #RandomThoughts