duty – radical druid

The Point On

Published on August 15, 2025

If you and I aren’t really seeking, there’s just not much point in speaking. If the boat is truly sinking, it won’t matter what we’re thinking. If the means dictate the end’s taste, does a life’s toil feed life’s waste?

In the end what does it matter, what the rung is on the ladder? What are we, mad as a hatter, praising most the loudest chatter? Does the way we look at things change them or the change they bring, or in any other way make a difference to the day?

How important do we think we are? Honestly, that won’t get us too far. After all, there’s more of us than more useful plans discuss. In a while will all this talking help us? If not, we could skip it and both focus.

When the two of us are honest, be assured we can get over it. It only takes a minute to change your life, after all. In that so small a speck of time almost anything is liable to happen. Hell, the quintessential post-apocalyptic society of decadence and moral decay set against a quaint background colored by a racist, ignorant, and television audience friendly social pecking order, serves as the perfect setting.

What more do you need? An invitation?

15 Aug 2025

So Much To Do, So Little Time

Published on December 1, 2014

“So much to do, so little time”, or so the saying goes;
as we waste both the hours and doing, pacing to and fro.
Refusing any call to act without sufficient thought,
we fine-tune the social contract – every strophe, caesurae and jot –
while life slips by in seconds grown to decades, year by year,
and what we feel needs done becomes our hobby or career,
a never-ending sidetrack from the job always at hand,
and then the moments are no more, and we can’t understand
why we have not evolved or grown in all that span of time;
and have not learned the reason of it, nor can sing its rhyme.

The meat of life, untasted; its sweet fruits left out to spoil
awaiting us at table while we spin in pointless toil,
imagining importance in such little, vapid things,
we wake up late in winter, having missed so many springs
that we can scarce remember when the world and we were green,
nor count the wasted chances and short hours in between
our hungry, mewling day of birth and stiff and meatless end
where none of what we finish matters, not to foe or friend,
but lingers uncompleted, our great lists of “yet to dos”
reduced to tattered palimpsest and left for rats to chew.

“So much to do, so little time”: the two are never swapped;
The time ends all too quickly, and the doing never stops.
The world’s pace never pauses, slows or even skips a beat,
to celebrate a victory nor acknowledge a defeat.

1 DEC 2014

Resistance

Published on January 28, 2003

If there is a principle in my life
that stands behind any visible act
or serves to motivate in times of strife,
it is this very simple and small fact:

I have been given many things to keep,
some of which may need to be protected,
and a dear few, watched over while they sleep;
this sacred duty is not neglected

while I still breathe and am able to stand.
I have sworn to die defending my own,
to face whatever ill comes to my door.

But I have no right to rebuff a demand
by slaying the villain. Know this alone:
my life will never be worth killing for.

28 JAN 2003

Tag: duty

The Point On

So Much To Do, So Little Time

Resistance