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zombieslayer1 14-Aug-12, 02:11	The Time of No Room by Thomas Merton "We live in the time of no room, which is the time of the end. The time when everyone is obsessed with lack of time, lack of space, with saving time, conquering space, projecting into time and space the anguish produced within them by the technological furies of size, volume, quantity, speed, number, price, power and acceleration. The primoridial blessing, "increase and multiply," has suddenly become a hemorrhage of terror. We are numbered in billions, and massed together, marshalled, numbered, marched here and there, taxed, drilled, armed, worked to the point of insensibility, dazed by information, drugged by entertainment, surfeited with everything, nauseated with the human race and with ourselves, nauseated with life. As the end approaches, there is no room for nature. The cities crowd it off the face of the earth. As the end approaches, there is no room for quiet. There is no room for solitude. There is no room for thought. There is no room for attention, for the awareness of our state. In the time of the ultimate end, there is no room for us." -- Thomas Merton, 1915-1968 I do not know exactly when Merton wrote this essay-- it is at least 44 years old. If you are not familiar with Merton, he was a Trappist monk, a prolific author, a social activist, and worked on bridging different religions as opposed to one religion assimilating another. What I find so poignant about this essay, is it's applicability and relevance even today. It makes me pause and question: in an overcrowded world, a world wrought with intolerance, with violence, can I still stop and see the beauty that still is? Can I make that time, that room, to notice the beauty of a piece of art, the lyrical song of a poem, to ponder the difficult questions of great thinkers? Can I make time to appreciate the wonder around me-- the glory of a sunset, the smell of a rose, the act of a Good Samaritan? Yes. Yes, I can. There is still room.
obsteve 14-Aug-12, 16:51	Hi Zombieslayer1 If I'm honest with you I do sometimes feel there are "not enough hours in the day" However, I spent a good few hours on the beach with my kids after work today. I wouldn't necessarily subscribe to the statement claiming that "everyone is obsessed with lack of time etc." The amount of chess I play is testament to the voluminous recreation time I also seem to have at my disposal. Oops, there I go again   Do you believe in this end of times stuff?
zombieslayer1 14-Aug-12, 16:59	End times stuff No. That is where Merton and I part ways. I respect all religion, and lack of religion, but I have my own unique beliefs. I am a tribal member of the Cherokee Nation and my beliefs are very similar, but not in lockstep, with traditional native beliefs. To me, life is a never ending circle, and the Creator, or God, is the energy of the universe and nature itself. But those are just my personal beliefs, for what they are worth...
shamash 14-Aug-12, 18:24	An Englishman's view of TIME, 4 centuries ago: "HAD we but world enough, and time, This coyness, Lady, were no crime We would sit down and think which way To walk and pass our long love's day. Thou by the Indian Ganges' side Shouldst rubies find: I by the tide Of Humber would complain. I would Love you ten years before the Flood, And you should, if you please, refuse Till the conversion of the Jews. My vegetable love should grow Vaster than empires, and more slow; An hundred years should go to praise Thine eyes and on thy forehead gaze; Two hundred to adore each breast, But thirty thousand to the rest; An age at least to every part, And the last age should show your heart. For, Lady, you deserve this state, Nor would I love at lower rate. But at my back I always hear Time's wingèd chariot hurrying near; And yonder all before us lie Deserts of vast eternity. Thy beauty shall no more be found, Nor, in thy marble vault, shall sound My echoing song: then worms shall try That long preserved virginity, And your quaint honour turn to dust, And into ashes all my lust: The grave 's a fine and private place, But none, I think, do there embrace. Now therefore, while the youthful hue Sits on thy skin like morning dew, And while thy willing soul transpires At every pore with instant fires, Now let us sport us while we may, And now, like amorous birds of prey, Rather at once our time devour Than languish in his slow-chapt power. Let us roll all our strength and all Our sweetness up into one ball, And tear our pleasures with rough strife Thorough the iron gates of life: Thus, though we cannot make our sun Stand still, yet we will make him run." -----Andrew Marvell, "To His Coy Mistress"
zombieslayer1 14-Aug-12, 22:11	It's been a long time since I've read "To His Coy Mistress", I had almost forgotten about it. Thanks for posting the beautiful poem.
zombieslayer1 14-Aug-12, 22:13	Another poem about time From my beloved Pablo Neruda: Ode to Time In your age, growing. In my age, going. Time is decided, its bell does not ring; it widens, walks within us, appearing like deep water in the gaze, and next to the burnt chestnuts of your eyes, a breeze, the traces of a minuscule river, a little, dry star ascending to your mouth. Time rises: it threads into your hair, but in my heart, your fragrance is a wilderness, alive like the fire. It’s beautiful how what we live, ages, by aging. Every day was a transparent rock, every night was for us a black rose, and this ditch on your face, or mine, is a rock or flower, a memory of lightning. My eyes have been worn in your beauty, but you are my eyes. I may have fatigued my kisses in your duplicate breasts, but everyone has seen in my joy your secret shining. Love, what matters that time, the same that rose like two flames, or parallel thorns, may tomorrow sustain or undo my body and your sweetness; may those same invisible fingers erase the identity that divides us, and give us victory in being one sole being under this earth.
kewois 04-Jan-21, 09:00	Time Machine by Vince Suzadail Jr. Ride with me on my time machine to a different time and place Return with me and let me see if I can put a smile upon your face To the days of AM radio and the TV was black and white To lying in a grassy field and counting stars at night Popcorn and soda in the balcony at a Saturday matinee Parades led by the High School Band on Decoration Day Dressing up and going door to door on the night of Halloween Cigarettes rolled in your shirt, pretending to be James Dean Pep rallies before the football games, everybody stand and cheer Going in the woods with your friends at night, sharing a quart of beer That feeling inside, turning red, when she smiled at you at the dance Wanting to kiss her goodnight, but you were afraid to take a chance Playing chase tag at night in the neighborhood, hiding behind a tree Holding hands with your first steady, so all your friends could see Medicine Show at the end of town in a giant canvas tent Saving pennies for a rainy day, fasting on candy for Lent Going for a Sunday ride with Mom and Dad in the family car Playing in the yard at night, putting lightning bugs in a jar Drag racing on that long stretch of road, Chevy was hard to beat Stealing peaches from a neighbor’s tree, always seemed so sweet Riding bikes all over town, never knowing the meaning of fear Identifying cars by their tail lights, make and model and year News and Stooges at the theatre before the movie starts Valentine’s day I love you written on tiny candy hearts Easter bonnets and picking flowers for Mom on Mother’s Day Opening day at the community pool the last weekend in May Sock hop in the auditorium, collar up, trying to play it cool Meeting friends at the usual place, everyday after school Six for a quarter on the juke box, music that would move your soul Return with me now to those glory days and the birth of rock and roll.

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