One before the why
Neutrinos dance, the tenet
Encoded gem I
Hopi hydrogen
Unified twins, Gemini
Numbers, count by staff
Divided even
Release the energy chi
Equal scales by 2
Decide upon one
Y photon will equal c
Energy Ion
Arc flight of eagle
Ram or goat the choice be I
S- Martics be arc
Oscillate on thoughts
Fermions amount to sum
Quantum quarks made you
Unified field net
Alpha the numeric n
N number alpha
Tau weight equals au be you
Unit be star Q
Mass measured by staff
Set started on go
Catapult be to the stars
Independent Star
Electrons are a
New negative light of one
Cascade reason why
Elect charm at end
2 by way of the release
Infinity roar
Now finite beyond
For I am born one with sun
It’s all inside you
None but bold be the one Thoth
Inside the fire be one
Together be the ocean
Yet the ocean be drop too
By Steven Willis Henderson
6/23/25
Say, dig what I say
Talkin’ bout a new jazz vibe/
Man, move over/
the Jazz Cookers are hittin’ their stride in the groove to stay alive/
Eddie Henderson/
Cecil McBee/
George Cables,Billy Hart
and Billy Harper/
swingin’ harder jazz be flying/
downbeat, upbeat, man, count It off/
their soul auras are in the jazz notes they play/
David Weiss and Donald Harrison are fryin’ their amps/
burnin’ the house down/
with the jazz club scene in decline/
and record labels cuttin’ back on jazz/
the jazz Cookers have to stay alive and relevant in a jazz-changing world/
so dig, be cool struttin’ as Sonny Clark would say/
you might not always get a payday but you love to play/
the Cookers boss horns are on fire/
hip tones blowin' from the stage/bro, this is the jazz life you chose and after a gig, you might be all alone/
so be in the moment and improvise on your jazz note phrasing/
you’ll find the rhythm and meaning knowing you can play the same note gig after gig night after night/
but different every time/
are you hip to the Cookers?/
they will have you finger poppin’ and blowin' your mind/
wahoo that’s a whole lotta jazz
Who doesn’t dream of escape?
A return to an innocent state
A journey on the beams of grace —
The Lord is with thee
Who doesn’t yearn for what’s pure?
A chance to un-open that door
They preach to us, Less is more
And enslaved is free
See the infant angels descending
Hear the primal drums drumming
Like Henderson and his lions —
On the verge of becoming
Who doesn’t pine for the good days?
To be illumined by the light’s rays
And retreat from the swirls of malaise
Toward a joyous shore
Who doesn’t hold onto something,
Amid the wringing and running?
Maybe the name of becoming
Is one we’ve uttered before
See the holy harps descending
Hear the primal drums drumming
Like Siddharrtha and his lotus —
On the verge of becoming
I
Today, three years too late - almost - I read a short, insightful article by Daniel Henderson ("Holy Spirit ... Come? Or Control?" 2019(c) Daniel Henderson). I am so thrilled. I have good help in explaining New Testament theology.
II
Thank you Daniel come again
Yes. For me: Daniel has come again
To tame the lions of charismatic over-reach
Such because weak or new believers
Feel less, unless -
They join a bandwagon: "More, Spirit, more!"
Bandwagon Balderdash?
I said it, as a Poet, I wrote it
Last month already: "Jesus's best deposit" -
Holy spirit comes to indwell all as an escrow
Guarantee that Jesus claims us,
He will only leave if we leave LORD JESUS
No need to run all over, looking for more of the Most
Gentle, the Most
Holy Spirit
Of God
Also known as, GODS SPIRIT OF HOLINESS
III (Daniel HENDERSON explained):
" ...like other common elements of Christian vernacular, it [asking Spirit to come] is nit in the Bible. Nir is it a prayer consistent with the new covenant secured for us by the precious blood of Christ."
I’m not wishful anymore
or here to ride the wave
My feet both mired in aging mud,
my heart now turned away
I’m not here to save the world,
nobility be damned
Time on trial my last denial
—on distant Ronan land
(Henderson North Carolina: October, 2021)
The first three pitches: just outside. Pitch four:
right at the knees - "Steerike!", the umpire calls.
I wait to get the pitch I'm hoping for…
The next toss: high and tight... a base on balls.
I take my lead. I check the signs and frown -
he throws, I dive, dirt in my eyes - the worst!
The batter squares to bunt and lays one down -
a gem! I slide, they throw him out at first.
I get a bigger lead at second base -
my 3rd base coach gives signs without a word.
My fingers twitch, the pitcher deals, I race
like Rickey sliding head first, I steal third.
Long fly - I tag and slide under the mitt…
we score the winning run without a hit!
// Hats off to Rickey Henderson, all-time stolen base leader. With home
runs dominating the sport today, I thought I'd go 'old school' and pay a
tribute to 'small ball' from days of yore. They call it 'manufacturing a run'
when a team can score without the benefit of a hit. Many thanks to
Gershon Wolf for challenging me to write my first baseball sonnet! //
written 18 Oct 2020
Without Your Love
Without your love, my life
I feign would ebb away.
Without you love, that
kindled flame of passion’s fire,
would turn to ashes cold and gray.
Without your love, my heart
grows cold, my feelings dead.
Without your love, those moments
when we chance to meet,
would change from happiness to dread.
Without your love
these eyes these lips so lonely pout.
Without your love to free my
lonely spirit from it’s hideaway.
To ride kindred spirit, seeking it’s way out.
Charles Grady Henderson
May 13, 2020
Today is a yellow day
everything is so blaze’
I’m sure to have my way
If I don’t have much to say.
We snip, we snarl then
it’s makeup time.
The next few moments
are so sublime.
The trees fly by stately
in their own way.
I’m sure if they could talk
they’d have a lot to say.
Oh, this new highway
already in need of repair.
Their heavy load indeed
a loathsome burden I swear.
I see the farms have
already been plowed
the fruits of labor
always well endowed.
Another trip goes down in history
another poem get writ by me
and the world goes round just as before
yet changed, different forever more.
Charles G. Henderson
Feb. 25, 2020
Patrick Ferguson and the battle of Kings Mountain
He rode up to the mountain in great haste
planning vile acts, and much wonton waste.
Hiding, the whigs taunting, scattered about.
They were in waiting, the mountain through out.
Brave volunteers were on the docket.
John, the father of Davey Crocket
Ready to give his life, so long ago
just as his son Davy at the Alamo.
Ferguson sat on his steed, the pampas ass.
That’s about the worst thing I can say’
without being completely crass.
Little did he know this was his last day.
A small conference upon their steeds underway.
While shots periodically rang among the fray.
Then Ferguson’s second Lieut. spying a whig
trained his pistol...following that dirty “pig”
But God took a stand on the mountain that day
He ended the conflict in his own absolute way.
The lieut’s hand and his gun with certain disdain,
trailing the whig, fired into the general’s brain.
Charles Grady Henderson
Feb. 13, 2020,,,Have rewrit several times, hope this is the best.
Hey you old cat...
like I can't see you or something !
down there worming …
around my feet and legs
lovin' up on me !
We're still here...today
you and me.
Just like the days and years before.
Sure I'm lookin' for
a whole lot more....ain't that natural?
We all want more than we can get...
or need....But that's Ok, Ain't it.
I'll still brush the dandruff
out of my hair every morning.
And I will shake the dust off of
my feet every night.
We all owe allegiance to our
personal cleanliness and moral endeavors.
And to see the culmination of aspirations
long overdue in the making.
So, with those few words
I now bid adieu, adieu to you,
and you, and you, and you.
Wherever you are....and wish for each
to find your shining star.
copy rite: Charles G. Henderson
Feb. 12, 2010.....Written in the vernacular and dedicated to
my two cats... two ancient toms about 12 years old. Lord, I'm
going to cry when they are gone.
The Cause
The cause is come...
To live or die
not for those who
sit and wonder why
It’s one for all, and
all for some, or none
for those who sit and cry.
Hang tough!
get off that lazy duff.
It takes more
than off the cuff.
They say,” put your
money with your mouth.”
It matters not if born
in the North or South
It’s one for all, and none
for some, who sit and cry.
Don’t even sit and wonder why.
Just, get off that lazy duff.
Get real, no one wants
anything off the cuff.
That steady grind
doing those things left behind.
To keep from being called
a useless, moronic blunder bus.
Charles Grady Henderson
4/23/2019
Come now, you days so dreary,
with thoughts mundane and weary.
Both windy rain and bitter cold,
find comfort in blains and days of old.
To sit and sigh and wonder why
this if and when the eyes are dry
and the coals no longer lit are pale
in the wake of stormy frozen gale.
Until the frost is no longer on the glass
neither inside, outside in stormy blast.
And the Spring thaw comes in strident strain
to greet us with warmth and smiles again.
It lays a comfort blanket on us in haste as
we smile inside ourselves...what a waste!!!
While sitting we muse upon our fate....
Glad it rests not in the hands of a potentate
My thought for tonight, anno dominie Jan 23, 2019
Charles Grady Henderson
Once more to the breach...
Once more to the wall
Once more to the never, never land
that soon will consume us all.
Hail to the Queen
Hail to the King
and goodbye to those who may fall.
To the rest: Scale the height of the wall.
God is our source of strength and verve
He will guide us each step of the way
so scale the pillars, the posts and sills
Victory is in our grasp, let it stay.
Charles G. Henderson
Jan 14, 2019
Beautiful to see
It was expensive no doubt
and made me feel a love
she had for me.
I still wear it many years hence,
my son, now divorced from she
But, my coat of many colors still
reminds me of times we were three.
copy rite Feb 4, 2019
Charles G. Henderson
Time
is like a flowing river......
Buried deep within the quagmire
of molten verve and life experiences.
We revel in it. We gloat in the fat of it, and
we hog the memories until they are worn.
Yes...worn thin in the telling and the retelling.
So, that in the end we may simply sit and hopefully
smile and gloat!!
My thought for today.....AnnoDominie 12/21/2018
So mode it be...amen!!
Charles G. Henderson
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