—The Weight of Cannot—
I came to stay the falling, yet the hour
went on beneath the ordinances of fate;
my hands, made eloquent by love, had power
only to learn how powerless to wait.
I stood beside the vanishing, and knew
that presence hath no hands with which to stay;
I called the name; its warmth remained, yet through
that warmth, the beloved had already passed away.
My love reached shore; the beloved was sea,
and every strength I summoned sank from sight;
I asked Time for one mercy; memory
returned, and made remembrance ache with light.
The thing I could not change changed what I knew
of love: my hands grew still—and still reached you.
September 12 Praises to God Bible Meditations Based on Ezekiel 43-45
Key Verse – Ezekiel 43:27…I will accept you, saith the Lord GOD.
PRAISE BE TO GOD FOR ACCEPTING US
Praise be to God for accepting us through His:
Grace with His gifts
Goodness along His grants
Guidance of great gentleness
Goal that gears us by His governance
Generosity and glory toward our gladness-glow
Ezekiel 44:5 Praise be to the Lord for saying unto us His:
Ordinances we should obey
Orders for our service-opportunities
Omnipotence in our salvation against sin-oppression
Omniscience that surely sees our sorrows we cannot open
Omnipresence we can stay-in serenely by His steadfast support
Ezekiel 45:1 Praise be to the Saviour for
enabling us to offer oblation:
Wholly wrought along His watchfulness
Willingly woven against our weakness
Worshipfully won through His will
Wisely welcomed by His wonders
Warmly with His wealth. Amen!
September 12, 2024
??Ecclesiasticus 6:26-31 KJVAAE??
[26] Come unto her with thy whole heart, and keep her ways with all thy power. [27] Search, and seek, and she shall be made known unto thee: and when thou hast got hold of her, let her not go. [28] For at the last thou shalt find her rest, and that shall be turned to thy joy. [29] Then shall her fetters be a strong defense for thee, and her chains a robe of glory. [30] For there is a golden ornament upon her, and her bands are purple lace. [31] Thou shalt put her on as a robe of honor, and shalt put her about thee as a crown of joy.
[33] If thou love to hear, thou shalt receive understanding: and if thou bow thine ear, thou shalt be wise.
[37] Let thy mind be upon the ordinances of the Lord, and meditate continually in his commandments: he shall establish thine heart, and give thee wisdom at thine own desire.
With sadness, that never ceased,
I watched your Father shot on live television.
I was living in Chicago and Elena, a baby
in my arms asleep.
Your Father, Robert had just won California
and “on to Chicago” was his mission.
Sirhan-Sirhan., anti-Isreal, pro-Palestinian ,
shot your father in the hotel’s kitchen, near dead.
I sat in Chicago, in tearful disbelief, and all I could
feel was profoundest grief!
Screaming crowds wept as deep crimson-
warm, blood seeped from your father’s head.
And here you are now with your lovely wife and
actress, Cheryl Hines, about to follow in your
Father’s footsteps!
Your voice may sound strange as you are
affected by spasmodic dysphonia.
I am just an extraordinary American because I
do not think one party is a religion whose
Ordinances must be obeyed and kept.
For anyone, who would like to see
Robert Kennedy Jr. Mon, October 9th!
Soupmail me.
Thank you!
Obsession
Obsession with "O's"
Oh, obsession’s obfuscating oligarchy
Oceans of oblivion
Outrage in ostentatious obsession
Overrun in hurricanes named obdurate and obstinate
Overtures of oxidized compulsive orchestration in
Obbligatos overflowing obituaries -
Overbearing octaves of the obsequious –
Orations of overt objections
Objectivity overpopulated by opportunistic obtuse –
Obsession outweighing optimist’s objectives –
Openness offspring overrun by
Ominous hunters of sweet oblations ordained
Oscillating between logic and obsession unchallenged
Orthodoxy obscures opportunity
Officially ostracizes open-mindedness –
Original the outsider - occupied the outlier -
Observes only obstructive operations
Obedience to the one-track offertory
Of overstocked outdated ordinances,
Offshoots of outmoded operatic ornaments
Odious opium overdose of the obscene
Onyx odors overpowering odes
Offered on the altar of originality -
Obliterating oligarchy of obsession
9-23-21
Sponsor: Constance La France
Contest: “O” Contest
Along the blood road there are thousands of ponds.
Carved out by American bombs.
A futile attempt to blast communism
into the next millennium.
It'll take a hundred years to remove
unexploded ordinances.
Children mistake them for shiny toys.
Every day is black Christmas for children
who play along the blood road.
The metal from war doesn't go to waste.
The skin of bombs is made into skiffs.
That putter around the delta mist.
Some taking in round-eyed tourists...
Who're eager to see how a poor communist lives.
More often than not they'll be invited into a hut
provided a humble, heartfelt meal.
Sometimes by a widowed one-armed matriarch.
Today, the blood road is being devoured by jungle.
Natives still slave over rice paddies.
Just like they have for a thousand years.
And will for a thousand years more.
Some of the bomb ponds hold trapped fish
where villagers toss hopeful nets...
and who said war is good for nothing?
God opens doors toward
service opportunities showing His:
...omniscience along His plan
...omnipotence with His power
...omnipresence thru His purpose
...orderliness by His programs
...ordinances upon His precepts*
...orders under His providence
...offers around His progress.
*Psalms 119:159 Consider how I love thy precepts: quicken me, O LORD, according to thy lovingkindness.
April 11, 2019
Rules and regulations bring economic strangulation
Policies and procedures serve the whims of weak leaders
Statutes and ordinances pave the road to subordinance
Hypotheses and theories render creativity weary
Laws and by-laws stick fast in your craw
Custom and tradition tie the hands of ambition
Axioms and corollaries, originality bury
Torts and contracts recall long-dead artifacts
Plea bargaining, eminent domain, the statute of limitations
Reek of appeasement and Machiavellian machination
Give me a world without all the perverse legalese
A world of brave men, who dare do as they please
Cameras snap on the last action tourists trap
As shutters flash, bullets fly by respectfully
Go past Sunday services at high velocity
Stain glass windows stay intact
Some one falls from the high church tower
Assisted by gravity, a force of nature at work
A push out a window from a stranger works as well
Even better, since it brings a man to his senses
In a splat, a stain on the pavement
Obsequious to that end to make a mark
On the square, over a glass of cold fresh brew
A hit man, this time, does not miss his mark
The story, like the beer, is delicious this time of year
Robbery is also good to attract new business
Loaded guns must bow to authority
To conduct commerce on the streets
Ammo leaves chambers only by permission
Empty, safe and sound as ordinances intend
Approved by law enforcement
There is no end to city limits
Tourists are the center of attraction
Our aim is to aim at them
Credit the Chamber of Commerce
They do business the old fashioned way
At the end of the barrel of a gun
Emptied chambers make more profits
Bullets don't pay taxes
If I may, to my fellow would-be poets,
Hereon pose an imperative query
(Yet mostly destitute of the greatest urgency),
Then I who, in the gross majority of my inditings hereon,
Am of quite a Shakespearean and Miltonian bent:
Yet in the years succeeding the terminus of my schooling,
During the everlasting course thereof, I learned many a thing
Indeed an immense preponderancy of such,
And among these congeries of learning, there can be accounted
Even a myriad of the manifold precepts of poetry
And the fiats and decrees, commandments and
Ordinances governing it;
Yet for all of the sufficiency and yet preponderance of
Poetic enlightenment and enrichment, I recall nary a thing
Thereof!
It may be inborn, inherent,
Ingrained, innate...
But do I, who is of a Shakespearean ilk,
To my fellow aspiring poets, writers, and poet-writers ask:
Is this, or aught of my other poems, in anything
Remotely likened to the metrical sort that he and Milton were
Wont to use?
And an it be so,
Beteem me to learn its name,
And an so, is't truly termed by that sobriquet
Known as "iambic pentameter"?
Is it in this that I write?
Are all my poesies thus enwritten?
Fiery flying serpent
with the scorpion sting
F-18
Your angry wings
make the sound of many rushing chariots,
dropping death from the air
With a voracious mouth devouring
like a whirlwind vortex,
your metal cries ascend to the clouds
F-18
Flying killing machine
controlled by a human being,
making craters of pulverized dust
Dropping ordinances of death,
vaporizing breath and melting flesh
Refill your belly with petrol
for another sortie ... consume every green thing
Turn the fertile land into a graveyard,
where desolate souls wander aimlessly
Some numbed by the shock,
others shocked by the sight
All witnessing carnage they were never meant to see,
a plague of burning blight ...
smoke and fire stretching endlessly
F-18
Fiery flying serpent
with the scorpion sting
F-18
Metal beast
tamed by a human being
F-18
Flying killing machine,
the drone hum of death
carried in the wind of your wings
Descending aerial song of destruction,
cobalt propelled aria in the F note you love to sing
I’m through with this grand-oval shaped abode,
where it’s center of gravity is filled with vanity.
methinks I shall absent myself from their evil propagandas and empty lullabies,
holding firm to my Ephraim’s stick and that of Judah.
Hey you over there-
keeper of the gates above,
shut not thine doors against I…
for all thine laws have I kept;
thine ordinances have I performed.
shut not thine doors of life against I thine faithful servant.
lest I be damned for all eternity.
Pleasantville
God sends cookies every day
The kind that have a crunch with walnuts
From the center of the universe
Buildings topple without sin in Pleasantville
They have their reasons
To rise up again to house clean thoughts
Long walks create tranquility produced at will
Everyone enjoys paying rent, making beds
Singing Beatles songs peppered with color
Not all things are black and white
Mornings share their structure with pretty birds of prey
In accordance with local ordinances of course
Making houses starts by removing fire
As unpleasant as they may seem
Pleasantville is still a swell place for mom and pop
Drinking tea on porches held up by the community
Perfect and lovely are the only words allowed
This is not just another cookie kind of town
Christmas bells aren’t ringing all through our little town,
The zoning ordinances prohibit such a noisy sound.
There are no carolers singing their songs of Christmas cheer,
People are afraid to open their doors to strangers who draw near.
Now Santa needs written permission to enter any locked domicile,
With the arrests resulting from last year his Reindeer are still on trail.
Don’t expect too much in your stocking at least nothing you might like,
Labor negotiations have broken down and the elves have gone on strike.
I hung a wreath on my front door and my neighbor gave me a laugh,
The lights that he displays on his own house could land a small aircraft.
There’s something in that eggnog that has made me lose my head,
I nearly said Merry Christmas rather than Happy Holidays instead.
Oh, I long for an old fashioned Christmas where everyone was bright,
But until the world is sane again I’ll keep a silent night.
And what of that little baby that started this whole thing,
The more I think about him, the more I want to sing.
So let’s all join together and prepare for what may come next,
Let’s all share love, joy, peace and hope by sending out a text.
Do you know the guy
who works his rear
right out of his jeans??
Then I have a tale for you:
This is my town---na -na--na---na!
Crack Police on the scene
{Ordinace --crack slack}
In pursuit perp.,
with K-9 crack sniffer,
Jack Rabbit Russell.
Tracking exposed crack
via baggy butt or belly
by apple strudell overload!
Also can be rendered
crack slack via no thought shopping!
Sentenced to one week in the crack house!
Gives crack patrol
a whole new meaning
***Watch out in your small towns!! There are new ordinances forbidding baggy pants
or skirts below the natural waist---HELLO PEOPLE!! Where will the madness end??
What next --fine mothers for breast feeding in public?? The working dad with a little
moon shine?? Absurd!! ABSURD I SAY!!
If your girls or boys fall out of those baggy pants---I WILL LAUGH MY GUTS OUT ALL
OVER 'EM!!
Thanks to my hubby and son for a little poetic humor advice!
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