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Articles: Daily Doses& Vital Verses-extract from ebook

Wednesday, November 23, 2011 - 01:14 AM, (1532 Reads)

Daily Doses & Vital Verses offers readers insightful thoughts on one side along with jaunty and positive verses on the other. A good value buy.

Daily Doses & Vital Verses is a throwback to elegant times and reflective philosophy. A book with two portions, celebrating wisdom and the art of verse weaving. One serving of reflection for every day of the year. Short thoughts to ponder, ruminate and cultivate. Followed by eloquent verses that move the spirit. An almost forgotten art in this age!

ISBN 978-967-5785-03-0 (international)
ASIN: B004WDZZ2O ( and all Amazon digital stores) Original reflections by Dominae Primus.

What is prudence? To know much and not say much but act and speak accordingly within context.

The secular philosopher will not agree with my postulation that philosophy and theology complement and enhance one another. A philosopher with faith is better off than a faithless one. If we live first, then philosophise, then whose will and power made living possible?

There are those whom we oppose that we will gladly have over to our side and those opposed to us who'd gladly have us on theirs.

The spirit's strength exceeds brute force of sinews.

Don't expect a monkey to jump, swing, run and shriek all day on one peanut every day. Hence never expect miracles with finite force.

Dignity stays with you if you keep it. Dignity leaves you if you discard it.

Time is but foldable space. When spread out it is vast and deep. When compressed millenia are but a dot.

Olive crowns wilt after a few days. The crowds will alter their course and follow the latest rage. But good deeds sow their seeds in the long run through many means.

It's not always when we equate Art with Wisdom. Art becomes greater when it includes Wisdom and Wisdom loses none of its virtues when paired with Art.

The allure of beauty and intellect within creation leaves lasting impressions.

Intellectual Property is copyrighted but Intellect is not.

I am at my best when I have something to do, which moves and amuses me. I can also behave my best, when not doing anything at all.

When one truly knows, question and answer are no longer separate entities. They merge as a union of understanding.

Would you know your desire if you have no knowledge of its form, its taste, scent or sound? The physical senses can only know for certain if they are able to identify an object of desire upon noticing or contact. What if desire has no known appearance, scent, smell or taste? How would you know it is what is desired even if one came upon it? How could one possibly be certain when one has no prior knowledge of this desire?
How can one even seek desire when there is no concept of desire?
It is possible to know but not with the physical senses. It will have to be through the mind and spiritís judgment. It springs from a concept emerging from the mind, yet it is unable to be described in prosaic earthly terms. How else can one be seeking and desiring yet know not of what one seeks and desires but when it comes to one in its chosen form it is
embraced? What one seeks and desires does not necessarily or always descend upon consciousness in one flash of revelation. Revelation has been known to descend and enlighten in a series of circumstances and occurrences.
This desire and quest to experience it is not a desire of physical proportions or for consumption. It is fulfilment.

It is here that living for the moment comes to play. Appreciate, value and live the moments, but pine not for you had encountered and lived it. Much like the manner in which we chance upon a kindred spirit, while on parallel tracks we wish it well on its way.

The one with the least encumbrances and concerns loses the least. It is only when one has placed oneís affairs in order for eventualities, one who is remote from the immediate cares and small minded concerns of worldly matters, is one at peace to ruminate on the matter of wider existence. One does not fear losing yet one is a person of conviction.
This is in contrast to one who does not care. That is a person of no conviction.

Why place so much value upon youth when it is callow and not fully realised versions of what the self can truly be?

From literature I sought understanding not purely joy. Then I realised that it was not literature or literary ecstasy that I sought. I was seeking revelation.
Although I enjoyed the study of language and its possibilities, I sought more the knowledge of reason and a summary of existence than the study of obscure words for the sake of knowing. To exhibit knowledge for the sake of praise and attention is akin to a rhetoricianís five minutes of fame on the pulpit. A convincing outflow of smooth reasoning, an earnestness in plausibility and a somewhat subversive attempt to sway oneís favour towards its cause. That is rhetoric.
Truth that one may live by, reasons worth ruminating and pledging oneís name and honour upon, that is the form of revelation sought. That can only be found in philosophy and theology. It was the means to revelation that I sought, not literature. I remain thankful to literature, for its discipline and inventiveness.

With premonition comes foresight.

This is a life chosen. I donít expect every one to take the same path as I have and neither should you expect me to take yours.

To be influenced and governed by manmade strictures surrounding us is like playing out the role clad in the costume imposed upon us, as opposed to the role and costume made by ourselves. What fascinates me is the true potential and nature of the mind not what its environment wills it to be. Oneís identity is greater than the limitations, obligations and community taboos erected and imposed by culture, traditions, family, geography, location, time, form, ethnicity and even gender. The mind without hindrance is unhampered by those. It is free and courageous.

It is from a position of disadvantage when realisation of justice and wisdom become more salient for it hits home on a personal level, provided the capacity to devise thoughts and draw conclusions is above prosaic matters. The abilities inherent are able to interpret and express the interaction and experience based on observations.

How can the mind that has travelled until the precipice of ideas, breathed through the exertion of concepts and exposed to compelling divergent values be roused by trifles, domesticity and pedestrian interests? Anything else less than a stirring intellectual adventure will be an anti climax.

We all come to be from different paths. If one can really examine oneself, colour, origins, geography, name, gender, community, culture, traditions do not apply in the determination of identity. The mind does not require a deluge of externalities to determine itself. What we deem as environment, traditions, cultural background are merely manifestations that rule the surface. They are superficialities that we have all too often allowed to dictate what we are. What is our name but a combination of sounds? What are we but seeds of passion? What we truly are comes from the fount of divinity with a slice of its own eternity. Mortality is the price to pay for this impermanence. Keep in view of divinity and we will have a chance of attaining it.

If existence is akin to a never ending loop that alternates between death and living, then there is no need to increase the number of inmates thrust upon this state. May each attain a path out of the loop.

Think not so much about oneís death but what one leaves behind and what one shall become after. With that we shall mind in better spirits the moment we live in.

I am not an anomaly. It is just that I have an affinity with a certain type of artistry and that artistry is best presented in a language that has chosen me.

What I have first felt in my vision during my early years has been constant with what I am now. It is just that the mastery of language has made expression easier. That is why language is a means to an end not an end itself. What am I? What is the meaning of this place? I seek wisdom and each day is an expansion of what I already know.

Like sustained contentment, wisdom is not a huge euphoria or ecstasy. It is a source of constant confidence and assurance.

What ails the empire?
The original context has been buried in the action of passing down. Forgotten, disregarded or unexamined, relying mostly on techniques where fable and fact intermingle. The apotheosis of past achievements thereby elevating them to being inviolable suffocates attempts at growth. Examination, improvements whereby analysis, evolution and revolution are discouraged. Instead skill in regurgitation is praised. Greed and corruption among the masses, committed at every level of society by unequal means of allotment of resources.
When the monarch is placed on an equal pedestal with God, the throne when occupied by a wise man is honourable. When abused by a profligate, vain megalomaniac is despicable. When a monarch is likened to Godliness however despicable oneís nature and
conduct remains inviolable, the perpetuation of misrule and all forms of abuse are augmented. Disdain of other people of those alike and those of foreign descent while prejudices are reinforced among their own ilk. National vanity, geographical and diplomatic isolation through acts of self imposed alienation fuelled by sentiments of superiority in terms of culture, race and history is a slow and sure step towards eventual capitulation.
The loss of discipline across society and reliance upon mercenaries pledged to pecuniary gains rather than the welfare of the state. Hear praises of a proud civilization but the chanters do not even practice the tenets that made their past great. They know nothing of themselves. They know only of propaganda and chauvinism.

It is a lesser flaw and suffering to desire. But when that desire becomes selfish at the expense of others and that in turn imperils oneself, desire has festered into destructive evil.

Vital Verses

Original verses by Dominae Primus

Light me a glow

Light me a glow where Iím laid

Let its warmth on you cascade
A brief flame burns this hour
Then bows to natureís power

Picture on the Wall

With joy it took pride of place
A mass of hues in my chamber
Overlooked when Iím in haste
In repose my gaze would meander

Dusk Falls Around Me

Dusk places her cloak around me
Ripening, blurring all we see
At a pace none can thwart
Cares not if you scream or bark
Nature hath decreed Her hour
As light retreats shadows tower
She covers all in even spread
Guide for Lady Night to tread
Dark, dark mystery shapes her stature
To light, to light Night will surrender
Go, go I to my homely harbour
Long, long before witching hour

Roads I Passed

Donít think the world of another
Having had a glanceful flutter

Would they thrive under tutelage?
Flayed and drowned with your baggage?

Would another turn out thus?
Having treaded the roads I passed?

Requiem for a Hero

Fires burn and embers flake
Yet the spirit they cannot break
Inscribed or from memory told
Of dangers great and ventures bold
Courage and strength bestowed a name
Herculesí epitaph, lasting fame
A legend born from final breath
He lives on though cast in Death

Goodbyes and Rebirths

Goodbyes are bitter gall
Contrasts for honeyed whispers
It is love's sombre pall
those afflicted its mourners

Lay to rest what's been
start anew in rebirth
with a slate wiped clean
another chance at mirth

To Inspiration

Embrace us with the sparkling glow
Bequeathed to those who wish & know
Delineating pathways unknown
Stirring a hive that dully droned

Poetís Rest

Sleepís a balm, a natural rest
To soothe when not at best
To be privy of Divine design
In your thick dreaming, resigned

Poets past and present
Reside at rhymeís crescent

A field so diverse, a delight of doses
Bloom words that outlast roses
The garden of wit blessed us both,
spread its seedlings we go forth


How do mortals fit in eternity
With every passing breath?
Brief links of mortality
That make up expansive breadth
Of infinite eternal tapestry

Temper does not last

Why cometh ye arrayed in finery?
Yet thy face be sodden so fiery?
Placate thy tortured countenance
Tempers be not permanent

How now, the firmament glows!
The bright moon wanes & waxes
How oft the gauntlet throws
Arenít worth the weight of axes?

Why art thou miserable so
By the weight of this verse?
Ye end of this shalt go
Mine better, no worse!


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