The Cause of Chaos

The Cause of Chaos

by P.K. Odendaal
January 2020.

It is all about boundaries, values and direction. Where are we going and do we know what is the space we are operating in?

This is the basics of life - and yet, so few people know these basics or stick to it and oh, how unimportant and inconsequential do we treat or regard these.

The examined life

The examined life – by P.K. Odendaal – December 2019

Oh, please, I wrote my matric exams many years ago and I still shudder when I think of how difficult it was and how I stressed. Fortunately I passed it and its past. More exams for me ever …  no thank you. I have had enough; what with all those sleepless nights.

I understand that fully ... but

What we say defines who and what we are.

What we say defines who and what we are - by P.K. Odendaal - November 2019.

We are the most conceited species still alive, although, considering our desire for self and mutual destruction, we should have been extinct long ago ... but the time is not ripe yet.

If I only had time - a poem

If I only had time - a poem by P.K. Odendaal - Nov 2019.

You may see me now as I rush and row 
which doesn't have much of a final touch
As I arrive too late at some entrance gate
For something quite vague like escaping the plague

An Ode to God - no. 2

An Ode to God – No. 2 – by P.K. Odendaal – October 2019

I stand in awe when endued and by God imbued

Who is so tall and care of things so small
and not as you and I who sometimes lie
and shield our shame while pursuing fame

What a joy - a poem

What a joy - by P.K. Odendaal - September 2019

It is with joy that I jump like a boy

having dodged that bullet before she could pull it

Please do not abuse me when the muse wants to use me
As I yearn to be free while you're gunning for me

The notion of emotion – a poem

The notion of emotion – a poem – by P.K. Odendaal- September 2019

It is well known that philosophers have shown

That we are what we think although there's a kink
Because we think what we are before we are what we think
And care not what we feel until we feel that we care
And none of the above is neither here nor there
And until we find what we do is all that's true
Our hearts do not care a hoot of what our minds can moot

Atheism - the biggest delusion

Atheism – the biggest delusion - by P.K. Odendaal – August 2019

Just look at this!

This is a light truck manufactured by one of the best light truck manufacturers in the world. The latest technology, computers and design engineers in the world designed this. It took them days and years to come to this design, strength, beauty and robustness. The best we as mankind has on offer. It had beautiful lines when it was manufactured and was almost perfectly manufactured, but objects in the universe scolded it.

Adult Sunday School - Part 23 - Paradise

The Eight destinations  after death – Part 3 – Paradise - by P.K. Odendaal – August 2019

We are continuing our excursion into places we might go to after death and next it is Paradise’s turn, a name we associate with bliss.

The central theme of the whole Bible is Paradise Lost in Genesis and Paradise regained in Revelation, but what a long and treacherous route that is. Some of us lose our way there and end up in other destinations which I write about in other parts of this series.

That is such a sorry state of affairs, but fully understandable due to the fact that the way leading there it is so narrow and beset with crooks and diverse temptations, most of all by our own choice and making. We are literally the masters of our fate and it should not be difficult to recognize the evil which meet us on our way to Paradise.

Love of my Life – Part 15 – A poem

Love of my Life – Part 15 – A poem by P.K. Odendaal – August 2019

Here we go once again with the same old refrain

Of desire and pain which are all still the same
For a purpose so alaine as an old steam train
But the dream that she had made us both feel bad

As a chance which went by like an unheard sigh

The gist of the dream was to be my queen
For ever and ever in bonds which won't sever
But this dream was too late to consecrate
And must be a sign of our long lost prime