BS is an ART, heh?
Showing posts with label literary. Show all posts
Showing posts with label literary. Show all posts
Tuesday, March 8, 2016
Henry David Thoreau - artiste de la bullshi#
BS is an ART, heh?
Sunday, October 4, 2015
My dream of mother
The past eve my mother entered my dream.
It was the first since her passing.
A dark presence not a sharpen image appeared.
She came with a great sorrow.
I asked if there was anything to be done that would end her deep sadness. There was no reply, just her continuance to share a heavy grief.
Needless to say I examined my life to see if all was in order by her values. So it seems to be mostly correct but for aging. The dream left a sense of inevitability that a sorrow looms that shall have to be accepted.
My prayers of petition being sent.
Update: seems my mother's sorrow was for former daughter in law...this sorrow continues to this day.
It was the first since her passing.
A dark presence not a sharpen image appeared.
She came with a great sorrow.
I asked if there was anything to be done that would end her deep sadness. There was no reply, just her continuance to share a heavy grief.
Needless to say I examined my life to see if all was in order by her values. So it seems to be mostly correct but for aging. The dream left a sense of inevitability that a sorrow looms that shall have to be accepted.
My prayers of petition being sent.
Update: seems my mother's sorrow was for former daughter in law...this sorrow continues to this day.
Thursday, July 1, 2010
Goofus Minorus _4
Meet Buford Prichard a member of the rural community. He is an untidy slovenly man. His small farm is also let to disorder. Buford’s sole interest is with ale. However the man is not a drunkard and he is a considerate husband and father.
“Buford what are you up to out there?” Mrs. Prichard asks.
It is late afternoon and Buford is seated on the front porch sipping a pint of ale.
“Killing fly!” The man calls in return. “My daddy killed fly. His daddy killed fly.”
“If the barn yard was cleaned up proper we should not have all these flies about the place.” Mrs. Prichard is dauntless in encouraging the man.
“Killing fly is like fishing except the critters come to me direct and eager.” The man blusters. “Takes a special ability to kill fly!”
“Well what skill are you practicing with all the ale you are consuming?” The woman wants changes in the man.
“Ale steadies the hand, relaxes the eye.” Buford responds.
“It seems to me that you are always relaxing! Whatever causes you stress?” The woman is frustrated.
The man looks in her direction, considers the wisdom in his response. “Being without you dear!”
“Why don’t you finish digging that drainage ditch behind the hen house then sit down with your ale?” Mrs. Prichard is relentless.
“The rains be coming and the runoff will wear on that ditch.” Buford sips tastes from his pint. “Nature will do most of the labor!”
“Man needs time to kill fly!” He reminds his wife.
“Buford what are you up to out there?” Mrs. Prichard asks.
It is late afternoon and Buford is seated on the front porch sipping a pint of ale.
“Killing fly!” The man calls in return. “My daddy killed fly. His daddy killed fly.”
“If the barn yard was cleaned up proper we should not have all these flies about the place.” Mrs. Prichard is dauntless in encouraging the man.
“Killing fly is like fishing except the critters come to me direct and eager.” The man blusters. “Takes a special ability to kill fly!”
“Well what skill are you practicing with all the ale you are consuming?” The woman wants changes in the man.
“Ale steadies the hand, relaxes the eye.” Buford responds.
“It seems to me that you are always relaxing! Whatever causes you stress?” The woman is frustrated.
The man looks in her direction, considers the wisdom in his response. “Being without you dear!”
“Why don’t you finish digging that drainage ditch behind the hen house then sit down with your ale?” Mrs. Prichard is relentless.
“The rains be coming and the runoff will wear on that ditch.” Buford sips tastes from his pint. “Nature will do most of the labor!”
“Man needs time to kill fly!” He reminds his wife.
Friday, June 25, 2010
Goofus Minorus_3
Meet Abby, Avril, and Alicia La Fontaine. Three (3) middle aged sisters are committed spinsters. Their love of gossip, has occupied their lives leaving little time for others. The three ladies are inseparable in time as well as looks. Comely in appearence but cold in hearts are the three.
“After the library, we should stop at Mr. Dittwhiler’s Store. He has a selection of new mirrors in stock. “Alicia informs. “I would love to see my self in a top quality looking glass.”
“Last year’s early spring left my complexion with rosy blotches.” Abby responds.” I hope this year will be a proper spring.”
“Mr. Dittwhiler’s wife left him recently!” Avril announces. “Those blotches are hardly noticeable, Abby.”
“No!” Shouts Abby in delicious surprise. “I fear that there are the remains of one or two of the most serious blemishes.”
“I heard he had a first wife that did the same thing when he lived in Portsmouth!” Alicia gasps. “I can’t even recall those red marks on you, Abby”.”
“With whom did she run off?” Abby inquires. “Mr. Dittwhiler is such a handsome gentleman.”
“They say she is with a man that works down on the docks…a delivery man.” Squeals Avril. “A rather offish man at that!”
“Oh how dirty that all sounds.” Moans Alicia. “I always thought there was something very unordinary and deeply common about Mrs. Dittwhiler."
“She has always wears a distant look upon her face.” Abby recalls. “The kind of blanch that one doesn’t see upon a healthy soul.”
“I know the woman who helps at his store.” Teases Avril. “Let us top and see what news my friend has to offer.”
In truth Mr. & Mrs. Mr. Dittwhiler were childhood sweethearts. The man has only had the one wife. Mrs. Dittwhiler has not left her husband but is traveling with her first cousin, a naval officer upon a several days journey to a family gathering.
“After the library, we should stop at Mr. Dittwhiler’s Store. He has a selection of new mirrors in stock. “Alicia informs. “I would love to see my self in a top quality looking glass.”
“Last year’s early spring left my complexion with rosy blotches.” Abby responds.” I hope this year will be a proper spring.”
“Mr. Dittwhiler’s wife left him recently!” Avril announces. “Those blotches are hardly noticeable, Abby.”
“No!” Shouts Abby in delicious surprise. “I fear that there are the remains of one or two of the most serious blemishes.”
“I heard he had a first wife that did the same thing when he lived in Portsmouth!” Alicia gasps. “I can’t even recall those red marks on you, Abby”.”
“With whom did she run off?” Abby inquires. “Mr. Dittwhiler is such a handsome gentleman.”
“They say she is with a man that works down on the docks…a delivery man.” Squeals Avril. “A rather offish man at that!”
“Oh how dirty that all sounds.” Moans Alicia. “I always thought there was something very unordinary and deeply common about Mrs. Dittwhiler."
“She has always wears a distant look upon her face.” Abby recalls. “The kind of blanch that one doesn’t see upon a healthy soul.”
“I know the woman who helps at his store.” Teases Avril. “Let us top and see what news my friend has to offer.”
In truth Mr. & Mrs. Mr. Dittwhiler were childhood sweethearts. The man has only had the one wife. Mrs. Dittwhiler has not left her husband but is traveling with her first cousin, a naval officer upon a several days journey to a family gathering.
Sunday, June 20, 2010
Goofus Minorus_2
Meet Colonel B B Hagis retired as the former commander of His Majesty’s 44th Highland Regiment. B B is a burly man with thick red hair and wearing heavy chops and mustache upon his face. He always presents himself well groomed and wearing a formal kilt and tartan coat.
The colonel is an impatient man with an aggressive ‘take charge’ personality. His retirement is trying so he must invent problems to solve in order consume his day.
“Harriet!” Barks the colonel at his wife. “Front and center!”
Mrs. Haggis enters the parlor. Her wet hands she is drying in her apron.
The colonel lowers his newspaper.
“Have you n any idea how foolish the town’s counsel has acted on the issue of leashed pets?” The colonel is agitated.
“No dear! I have too much work with all the canning that has to be done from the garden.” The lady’s hair is damp from the heat in the kitchen.
“These brigands have passed the absurd requirement that all pets be leashed in the city park!” The gentleman waits for wife’s response.
“We don’t own a pet dear!” Harriet retorts.
“How is man supposed to train his dog without the proper drills?” The colonel asks. “Do they expect me to go along with leash in hand when I wish to run the dog?”
“Dear we don’t own a dog and never have!” Harriet is perplexed. “Do you plan to exercise someone’s pet?”
“Apparently I shall never be able to do so under this confounded new ordinance!” The colonel grows angry. “Neither shall you Harriet ever again run the dog!”
“I have never run a dog!” She replies.
“Precisely! Your rights are being been denied. I shall leave for the city building at once and protest in your name!” The colonel folds his paper. “I shall pass the pet shop and see if they have a dog you might take to!”
The colonel is an impatient man with an aggressive ‘take charge’ personality. His retirement is trying so he must invent problems to solve in order consume his day.
“Harriet!” Barks the colonel at his wife. “Front and center!”
Mrs. Haggis enters the parlor. Her wet hands she is drying in her apron.
The colonel lowers his newspaper.
“Have you n any idea how foolish the town’s counsel has acted on the issue of leashed pets?” The colonel is agitated.
“No dear! I have too much work with all the canning that has to be done from the garden.” The lady’s hair is damp from the heat in the kitchen.
“These brigands have passed the absurd requirement that all pets be leashed in the city park!” The gentleman waits for wife’s response.
“We don’t own a pet dear!” Harriet retorts.
“How is man supposed to train his dog without the proper drills?” The colonel asks. “Do they expect me to go along with leash in hand when I wish to run the dog?”
“Dear we don’t own a dog and never have!” Harriet is perplexed. “Do you plan to exercise someone’s pet?”
“Apparently I shall never be able to do so under this confounded new ordinance!” The colonel grows angry. “Neither shall you Harriet ever again run the dog!”
“I have never run a dog!” She replies.
“Precisely! Your rights are being been denied. I shall leave for the city building at once and protest in your name!” The colonel folds his paper. “I shall pass the pet shop and see if they have a dog you might take to!”
Thursday, June 17, 2010
Goofus Minorus_1
Meet Rev Ickes R Bumbry, vicar of queen’s Church Forks Road ,Someford. The pastor is an elderly gentleman who is not known for his scholarly theology. Rather he is easily confused by numbers, has poor vision and a distracting speech impediment. Our cleric is however the first cousin of the bishop who serves the Queen.
“Alewua! Alewua!” The reverend calls as he begins his sermon.
“Aleluia! Aleluia!” Returns the congregation.
“Today’s message takes us beyond knowing the difference between wight and wrong.” The vicar stammers. ‘It is our call to wightousness!”
The community strains to become comfortable.
“When 300 Amonites stood in wightousness against 5000 Hitties, they feared no loss but knew they would be victowious even unto their death.” The old cleric’s voice lifts.
“That day 10,000 died on the field of battle and wightousness pwevailed.” The parson continues.
“Where did la those extra dead soldiers come from?” Mrs. Cartwright whispers to her husband.
“It seems the good reverend counts twice the deficit …much as a government official.” Mr. Cartwright answers.
“The wicked shall be punished!” The reverend adds. “Consider the three criminals that are to be executed for seduction of the Queen.”
“My word! Three unrepentant men seduced her Majesty!” Mrs. Cartwright whispers.
“I believe my dear that sedition was the crime!” Mr. Cartwright corrects.
“Let us pway!” The minister commands.
“Lead me ,guide me along the way,
If you lead me I cannot stway,
Lowd let me walk this day with thee.”
“Amen!” The reverend ends
“Alewua! Alewua!” The reverend calls as he begins his sermon.
“Aleluia! Aleluia!” Returns the congregation.
“Today’s message takes us beyond knowing the difference between wight and wrong.” The vicar stammers. ‘It is our call to wightousness!”
The community strains to become comfortable.
“When 300 Amonites stood in wightousness against 5000 Hitties, they feared no loss but knew they would be victowious even unto their death.” The old cleric’s voice lifts.
“That day 10,000 died on the field of battle and wightousness pwevailed.” The parson continues.
“Where did la those extra dead soldiers come from?” Mrs. Cartwright whispers to her husband.
“It seems the good reverend counts twice the deficit …much as a government official.” Mr. Cartwright answers.
“The wicked shall be punished!” The reverend adds. “Consider the three criminals that are to be executed for seduction of the Queen.”
“My word! Three unrepentant men seduced her Majesty!” Mrs. Cartwright whispers.
“I believe my dear that sedition was the crime!” Mr. Cartwright corrects.
“Let us pway!” The minister commands.
“Lead me ,guide me along the way,
If you lead me I cannot stway,
Lowd let me walk this day with thee.”
“Amen!” The reverend ends
Tuesday, October 27, 2009
Joy
Joy and happiness are not the same. The one does not place the other.
Happiness is had and dispelled by circumstance. It vacillates as does the weather’s foretell. The try to be happy may drive one to the extremity as with the collection of spouses in multiple marriages.
Joy transcends the material, the temporal. It cannot be purchased. It is immune to situation. Insult dims not joy’s presence in our core.
Joy is a gift! It is not purchasable but it may be found. The way to it is best shown with the view of another whose soul is joyous.
Happiness is had and dispelled by circumstance. It vacillates as does the weather’s foretell. The try to be happy may drive one to the extremity as with the collection of spouses in multiple marriages.
Joy transcends the material, the temporal. It cannot be purchased. It is immune to situation. Insult dims not joy’s presence in our core.
Joy is a gift! It is not purchasable but it may be found. The way to it is best shown with the view of another whose soul is joyous.
Monday, September 28, 2009
Justice over the foe?
We hold justice over our enemy as a divine right.
Those who have transgressed will account for their wicked actions under righteousness…so we believe. Our settlement’s arrival is anticipated with swiftness and vigor. Suggestions are eagerly offered to its form and content. This is being human.
Experience has shown that the justice provided under mankind is massively lacking. No form of evenhandedness by human effort proceeds in a vision without prejudice. Hence it is best to leave adjudication to divine intervention. This option is not meant for enjoyment. It is chosen for fairness! Here in this process the offended is wholly excluded.
There is however good news! There is absolute assurance that a true punishment will be had to the evil doer. None of the wrongdoing will be passed over. We shall indeed have justice albeit it shall be later than sooner.
Divine retribution comes as aging! There is no sense of revenge in beating an old sinner.
The bad news is that we too shall account for our offenses in sameness. Those to whom we have done wrong shall be comforted. They shall be allowed to offer forgiveness when lateness comes to our life.
It’s not sweet but it is an inevitable reckoning.
Those who have transgressed will account for their wicked actions under righteousness…so we believe. Our settlement’s arrival is anticipated with swiftness and vigor. Suggestions are eagerly offered to its form and content. This is being human.
Experience has shown that the justice provided under mankind is massively lacking. No form of evenhandedness by human effort proceeds in a vision without prejudice. Hence it is best to leave adjudication to divine intervention. This option is not meant for enjoyment. It is chosen for fairness! Here in this process the offended is wholly excluded.
There is however good news! There is absolute assurance that a true punishment will be had to the evil doer. None of the wrongdoing will be passed over. We shall indeed have justice albeit it shall be later than sooner.
Divine retribution comes as aging! There is no sense of revenge in beating an old sinner.
The bad news is that we too shall account for our offenses in sameness. Those to whom we have done wrong shall be comforted. They shall be allowed to offer forgiveness when lateness comes to our life.
It’s not sweet but it is an inevitable reckoning.
Friday, September 4, 2009
I found a dead one!
Yep! It was laying there spread eagle along a secluded forest trail. It didn’t move upon my approach. Resting flat and stiff, the remains had all the indications of a recent encounter with a dirk bicycle, or motorized quad.
I have read (on blogs ) about the fear of accumulating dead in a desolate parts of nature. This was serious …at least for the ground toad sacrificed by modernity. The sign foretold of more demise to come in the direction of my passage!
I have been a scout, a naturalist….yes an explorer for most of my unmarried, sober life. This seemed a pure amphibicide and no accident.
My first thoughts were of reckless youths indifferent to the environmental consequences of their leisure sport. However the examination of evidence quickly said other wise.
Fact # 1. To the worn eye a rock or large toad may be indistinguishable. To the failing eye, neither would have been viewed. This suggests a lead rider of advancing age or better aged advance.
Fact # 2. The size in width of the tire marks was relatively large for a pedacycle but too small for a motorized off the road vehicle. Typical tire requirements found for an over weight load.
Fact # 3. The nature of the toad’s body position indicates compaction at a rate too slow for a competitive bike rider. Thus is confirmed that tired heavy legs were providing a barely sustainable forward trust at the time of death
Fact # 4. The rider was alone! No other marks of human passage were to be found. The culprit was unsociable in disposition perhaps even violent.
The conclusion is inescapable. This death was dealt by a late middle aged overweight (pie eating) male sociopath probably bearded and wearing out of date prescription glasses.
Any one seeing a person of this description is asked to take caution!
I have read (on blogs ) about the fear of accumulating dead in a desolate parts of nature. This was serious …at least for the ground toad sacrificed by modernity. The sign foretold of more demise to come in the direction of my passage!
I have been a scout, a naturalist….yes an explorer for most of my unmarried, sober life. This seemed a pure amphibicide and no accident.
My first thoughts were of reckless youths indifferent to the environmental consequences of their leisure sport. However the examination of evidence quickly said other wise.
Fact # 1. To the worn eye a rock or large toad may be indistinguishable. To the failing eye, neither would have been viewed. This suggests a lead rider of advancing age or better aged advance.
Fact # 2. The size in width of the tire marks was relatively large for a pedacycle but too small for a motorized off the road vehicle. Typical tire requirements found for an over weight load.
Fact # 3. The nature of the toad’s body position indicates compaction at a rate too slow for a competitive bike rider. Thus is confirmed that tired heavy legs were providing a barely sustainable forward trust at the time of death
Fact # 4. The rider was alone! No other marks of human passage were to be found. The culprit was unsociable in disposition perhaps even violent.
The conclusion is inescapable. This death was dealt by a late middle aged overweight (pie eating) male sociopath probably bearded and wearing out of date prescription glasses.
Any one seeing a person of this description is asked to take caution!
Sunday, August 16, 2009
Shall we have emotions in heaven?
Our deceased family members are in heaven…surely most are. The bible tells us, there “all share happiness, peace, and joy.” Indeed our hope is to participate in this eternal reward. This brings forth a more formal understanding of everlasting life.
1. Proposition:
Souls that have made the journey Home retain their emotions. That is to say, our feelings are not abandoned to the grave.
Proof:
Joy is an emotion, as are peace and happiness shown by all in heaven according to God’s own word.
Souls that have left this world shared such emotions while on earth
Thus all souls entering God’s Kingdom continue their emotions.
QED
2. Corollary:
Anger and sadness are emotions to be found in heaven.
Proof:
Anger and sadness are emotions to be found in people on earth.
People on earth retain their emotions.
Hence all souls in heaven share anger and sadness.
QED
By definition, heaven is the fount of ceaseless joy and therefore can never be the cause of distress or suffering. Hence the cause of anguish to those in heaven must be those souls who remain on Earth. Our prayers for those in heaven are not sufficient. Our goodness is required as well. Amen!
jpR
1. Proposition:
Souls that have made the journey Home retain their emotions. That is to say, our feelings are not abandoned to the grave.
Proof:
Joy is an emotion, as are peace and happiness shown by all in heaven according to God’s own word.
Souls that have left this world shared such emotions while on earth
Thus all souls entering God’s Kingdom continue their emotions.
QED
2. Corollary:
Anger and sadness are emotions to be found in heaven.
Proof:
Anger and sadness are emotions to be found in people on earth.
People on earth retain their emotions.
Hence all souls in heaven share anger and sadness.
QED
By definition, heaven is the fount of ceaseless joy and therefore can never be the cause of distress or suffering. Hence the cause of anguish to those in heaven must be those souls who remain on Earth. Our prayers for those in heaven are not sufficient. Our goodness is required as well. Amen!
jpR
Friday, July 24, 2009
a poem for today
i thank you God for this amazing day by e.e. cummings
i thank you God for most this amazing
day:for the leaping greenly spirits of trees
and a blue true dream of sky;and for everything
which is natural which is infinite which is yes
(i who have died am alive again today,
and this is the sun's birthday;this is the birth
day of life and love and wings:and of the gay
great happening illimitably earth)
how should tasting touching hearing seeing
breathing any-lifted from the no
of all nothing-human merely being
doubt unimaginable You?
(now the ears of my ears awake and
now the eyes of my eyes are opened)
i thank you God for most this amazing
day:for the leaping greenly spirits of trees
and a blue true dream of sky;and for everything
which is natural which is infinite which is yes
(i who have died am alive again today,
and this is the sun's birthday;this is the birth
day of life and love and wings:and of the gay
great happening illimitably earth)
how should tasting touching hearing seeing
breathing any-lifted from the no
of all nothing-human merely being
doubt unimaginable You?
(now the ears of my ears awake and
now the eyes of my eyes are opened)
Tuesday, June 23, 2009
Why you should write a poem
It is a classic choice of benefit versus liability.
Benefits;
Improve one’s writing skills,
Practice thinking out side of the box,
Develop the ability to express thoughts with focused intensity,
The chance to purge bad habits,
To learn from new mistakes,
Pride in a difficult accomplishment,
To entertain, delight, amuse,
To grow as a person in no other way,
To communicate in the most open of manner,
To enhance the forward looking in your personality,
To appreciate unique word structures,
Your mother will be proud.
Liabilities:
They are hard to store.
There are better poets,
There are few readers,
They are too personal,
They can be resent to any one.
Come to think of it the liabilities are no greater than text messaging with a cell phone. The benefits are not limited to modernity. So writing a poem is only a good thing!
jpR
Benefits;
Improve one’s writing skills,
Practice thinking out side of the box,
Develop the ability to express thoughts with focused intensity,
The chance to purge bad habits,
To learn from new mistakes,
Pride in a difficult accomplishment,
To entertain, delight, amuse,
To grow as a person in no other way,
To communicate in the most open of manner,
To enhance the forward looking in your personality,
To appreciate unique word structures,
Your mother will be proud.
Liabilities:
They are hard to store.
There are better poets,
There are few readers,
They are too personal,
They can be resent to any one.
Come to think of it the liabilities are no greater than text messaging with a cell phone. The benefits are not limited to modernity. So writing a poem is only a good thing!
jpR
Friday, June 12, 2009
Grandma's Road
Today I'm going to jog along a narrow service road tucked deep in the woods not far from my grandparents' small farm. Both are long gone to heaven! The farm was sold before they passed.
The place is still there today and looks much the same. Grandpa's vineyard was his prize and he gave it lots of care. It's not there anymore but most of his fields remain. I drive past the old homestead once a year. Often I am tempted to stop and give out an offer to buy the place but haven't as yet.
In May and June my grandmother would walk my siblings and myself out a long rough path used in service for farm machinery. It was always over grown with weeds. Rocky soil showed were the heavy equipment had worn away the bracken. Wet springs flowed in abundance.
The road I'll run today is much like grandma's. Tree and large bush overgrow the sides of the trail making it a seculded forest adventure.
We were very small just preschool age when off we'd go down the lost lane with grandma. She would delight in pointing out the blossoms and identify the names of the bearers. Animals navigate on these country lanes and leave many signs. These grandma would mark and describe the creatures who passed before us. Deer, raccon, bobcat and bear, we saw all their tracks.
The bear signs always left us afraid. It was many years after her death that we learned grandma always carried a handgun in her apron during those walks.
Today I'll be with grandma on a trail much like long ago. I'll sense her presence in the same way as in my childhood. I'll be with my young mother and my siblings for about eight (8) miles. It will be heaven!
jpR
In remembrance of Lizzie McElwain's love of nature and literature.
The place is still there today and looks much the same. Grandpa's vineyard was his prize and he gave it lots of care. It's not there anymore but most of his fields remain. I drive past the old homestead once a year. Often I am tempted to stop and give out an offer to buy the place but haven't as yet.
In May and June my grandmother would walk my siblings and myself out a long rough path used in service for farm machinery. It was always over grown with weeds. Rocky soil showed were the heavy equipment had worn away the bracken. Wet springs flowed in abundance.
The road I'll run today is much like grandma's. Tree and large bush overgrow the sides of the trail making it a seculded forest adventure.
We were very small just preschool age when off we'd go down the lost lane with grandma. She would delight in pointing out the blossoms and identify the names of the bearers. Animals navigate on these country lanes and leave many signs. These grandma would mark and describe the creatures who passed before us. Deer, raccon, bobcat and bear, we saw all their tracks.
The bear signs always left us afraid. It was many years after her death that we learned grandma always carried a handgun in her apron during those walks.
Today I'll be with grandma on a trail much like long ago. I'll sense her presence in the same way as in my childhood. I'll be with my young mother and my siblings for about eight (8) miles. It will be heaven!
jpR
In remembrance of Lizzie McElwain's love of nature and literature.
Tuesday, June 9, 2009
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
