Once upon a time not too long ago there was a land
where men and women were free! A place we are told
ruled by democracy. “United we stand, divided we fall”
became the creed, the chant of all. Slowly at first a malaise
took charge and infected everyone.
Humpty Dumpty stood tall on his wall to see what was the
matter. Then Humpty slipped, took a great fall and landed
with splash and splatter. All of his buddies and foes,
suffering from bereft just looked at their toes and left.
That was when the spider, a stoic politician, became
a decider and said with volition: vote for me, vote for me
and forever stay free!
And so it came to pass that in the land of the free,
the politico and his peers prospered by enticing voters
with lies and false promises. What was once a democracy
became a politocracy: a government of the politician,
by the politician and for the politician.
United they stand and divide us all!
i sip tea, looking through my backyard window
wiping my eyes from this morning's wake up
the rose bush holds still, just one
black on white sits the crow on the fence
the sun's face still hidden from altostratus clouds
sunrays peek through onto mountains afar
dewdrops slowly begin to sparkle
the morning chirping crickets last forage
after another sip, I see the sun
heard chirps fade as the tweets volume rises
mostly evaporated the grass stands rich, and tall
i grimace, thinking, time to cut the lawn again
in the kitchen the phone on the wall rings
from the cake tray i steal the last cookie
on the sixth ring, i answered- hello?
recording says- landscapers for hire
the crow has flown, the sun still shines
I close the shade and wait
the front doorbell rings, the landscapers here
the vinyl's spin- "september morn" and "how sweet it is"
once upon a time
mushroom houses
dragons knights and castles
magic faerie tales
unicorns, Nessie and Yeti
gargoyles, griffins and kraken
damselflies, daisies and dragonflies
faeries, ferns, frolicking frogs
princess and princesses
full-blown fantasy
lions tigers and bears oh my
warlocks, witches and wizards
heros and heroines
happily ever after
Who is holy?
He who emulates God
For God is Holy
And how to do so?
Do what He does
Visit the sick, comfort the bereaved
Lift up the downtrodden, free the captive
Take in the orphan, the widow,
the poor and the stranger
Shun life in cloistered ivory towers
Holiness demands our God-given powers
20 number ten steaks
1 gallon of chow-chow
10 loaves of potato bread )Homemade(
30 sub rolls (homemade potato bread)
20 homemade sausage links
20 store bought polish saucasge links
cheesey cabbage cassole
carmelized onions with brandy and beef au jus
sweet and white potato french fries
----------------------------------------------------------
The delisous Delight......Assouvir
by Sympally Readiness
Since morning I had hungried
that the day my want for
delicoiusness
should be satisfied
that my craving for
simplity and grub ready
delights are to be
readied fom
the need of
my want
--------------------------------------------------------
Upon my conscious, above
My conscious,
September lingers over
Like a leaf refusing to fall–
From the tree.
January calls for
New beginnings,
February grants a kiss;
May bells release the children,
And august brings us back,
Again.
But September–
Refuses to fall from the tree.
The wind cannot rustle these leaves,
And when it blows,
The silence grows stronger;
Blows,
Blows,
And September grieves
But–
Refuses to fall from the tree.
Change is prominent,
Good, ineluctable,
And yet.
Grasp me and drag me
Through the rakes,
Piled high,
With every other individual
Who's conscious stagnates
Beneath september,
Still green on the branch.
I want to drag it down with me!
Wind blows,
September rustles–
History, unlike myself,
Cannot change.
But I can, and will,
Fall from the tree.
Every sin a stone, every dream denied,
A choir unheeded, its anthem mute.
Each vow shattered, a jagged weight inside,
Pain carried, pain dealt, endless tribute.
A choir unheeded, its anthem mute,
Promises fracture, their echoes wound.
Pain carried, pain dealt, endless tribute.
These burdens rise, a temple consumed.
Promises fracture, their echoes wound,
Each day in the mud, stone grinds to stone.
These burdens rise, a temple consumed,
An offering built where none atone.
Each day in the mud, stone grinds to stone.
Every sin a stone, every dream denied.
An offering built where none atone,
Each vow shattered, a jagged weight inside.
Upon Lasagna,
All splattered with sauce,
I lost my poor meat ball,
When somebody sneezed.
It rolled off the table,
And on to the floor,
And then my poor meat ball,
Rolled out of the door.
It rolled in the garden,
And under a bush,
And then my poor meat ball,
Was covered in leaves
The leaves were surrounded
By slugs
And then the next summer,
It grew into a tree.
The tree was all covered,
All covered with moss,
And on it grew meat balls,
And tomato sauce.
So, if you eat lasagna
All splattered with sauce,
Hold on to your meat ball,
Whenever you sneeze.
diamonds upon grass
sparkling as the sun rises....
cooing of doves
Season of death
Told to fear
Before bitter cold
Making everyone scream
For some warmth
And loving touch
Stay in touch
After the death
With some warmth
And no fear
Morbid many scream
Awaiting the cold
Decide embrace cold
With forceful touch
Hear the scream
Proclaiming the death
Eyes express fear
Needing some warmth
Getting the warmth
Fighting the cold
And the fear
With caring touch
Defeating ugly death
That creates a scream
Why a scream?
All filled warmth
Body shell death
Purple silver cold
Ghosts need touch
Soothe the Fear
Dispense the fear
Memories laughing scream
Everyone seems touch
Words igniting warmth
Melting the cold
Celebrating the death
Conquering fear death
Instead scream warmth
When touch cold
Though hearts may wander, chasing empty dreams, and idols built by human hands,
God's mercy still pursues His children with redeeming, loving plans.
Though discipline may shape our path, His grace still lights the way;
He calls us home with open arms and welcomes us each day.
The Maker of the earth and skies still reigns upon His throne;
No power of man can overthrow the Kingdom He alone has known.
When fear surrounds and hope grows dim, His faithful promise stands:
"Call upon Me"—I'll answer you with mighty, wondrous plans.
Before our birth He knew our names, each step our feet would tread;
He walks beside us through the night and gently goes ahead.
The more we seek His holy face, the clearer sounds His voice;
His sheep will hear their Shepherd's call and in His love rejoice.
Psalm 91 declares He hears, delivers, saves, and honors those who pray and call Him;
Psalm 145 assures us He is near to all who seek His way.
So let us live in holiness, surrendering all we are to Him—
For hearts that call upon the Lord will never call in vain. Call Him and He will answer.
Once upon a time,
they lived,
happily ever after.
Or did they?
Please something give me meaning
In this cruelly repetitive modern life
I function but don’t feel alive
I read dull emails
I have dull conversations
With dull people
Yet I feel most alive when
Riding my bicycle along the bike path
Interrupting fairy-wrens
Like an obnoxious tourist
Disturbing their natural lives
I think they’re bidding me good morning
Perhaps they’re telling me to piss off!
Depend upon God. Pt2.
PS. 130:5 I wait for the Lord, my soul doth wait, and in His word do I hope.
7 Let Israel hope in the Lord; for with the Lord there is mercy, and
With him is plenteous redemption.
8 And he shall redeem Israel from all his iniquities.
As we wait for the Lord in our season, remember His steadfast love and faithfulness.
To his people. And be assured that he has heard our prayers.
Our confidence shall remind us that he is with us.
6: My soul waits for the Lord, more than they that watch for the morning:
I say more than they who watch for the morning.
And so shall I, knowing that God will return in the morning, to me according to
to his promises.
For God’s covenant is more firm than the ordinance of day and night.
They will one day pass away.
But that which is everlasting remains steadfast, tried, and true.
The cross at Calvary commands that it’s finished.
And the pilgrim of Zion shall never be defeated.
By life’s forces of hell.
That is why we have many testimonies as proof.
We, too, must learn to depend on God.
A sprightly little squirrel named Drew
sat under a moon that was oddly blue,
and as its glow soaked through the night,
it dyed his furry body a dazzling hue.
He blinked, he twitched, he gave a chirp,
for blue is bold and far from meek~
but Drew, now bright as midnight skies,
felt rather dapper, quite unique.
He scampered up a maple tree,
declaring, “Look! Just look at me!”
The forest gasped, for never yet
had anyone seen such tint on a squirrel so free.
And now when moonlight turns to blue
and paints the nighttime’s silver view,
the squirrels all gather, hoping too
for a moonlit moment
to change their fur to blue.
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