“Out of the quarrel with others we make rhetoric; out of the quarrel with ourselves we make poetry.” ― William Butler Yeats
Friday, July 28, 2017
On the first, broken, family.
Tuesday, July 25, 2017
J. Golden on thinking for ourselves.
... "but all the men in the United States cannot prevent a man from thinking. There are not Apostles enough in the Church to prevent us from thinking, and they are not disposed to do so; but some people fancy because we have the Presidency and Apostles of the Church they will do the thinking for us. There are men and women so mentally lazy that they hardly think for themselves. To think calls for effort, which makes some men tired and wearies their souls. Now, brethren and sisters, we are surrounded with, such conditions that it requires not only thought, but the guidance of the Holy Spirit. Latter-day Saints, you must think for yourselves. No man or woman can remain in this Church on borrowed light." (J. Golden Kimball. April 1904 General Conference)
To be grateful, and the anger, be still ...
She, was dying.
Dying She, was ?
Or, was He ?
To grateful, for the small things,
Where, they?
A full hair of head .
A Hair Stylist, with real talent.
Two children, and a husband, she luved.
Angry he was, VERY VERY VERY ANGRY !
She was the center of his universe.
Talk about it, he could not .
Why?
Then came the one who brought the cure.
... AND ANGRY, VERY ANGRY, was he, still.
So, very still.
Talk, he could not, and why, they knew not.
Yet, came the cure, the full head of hair.
A full remission.
... and now to the rebuilding, of a life.
To let the anger, be still.
Thursday, June 15, 2017
On their brokenness
broken, and luved.
It was a walker.
A real marvel of its' age.
Damaged, it was ...
I remember it from my youth.
It, with its' sister,
hung on mommas wall.
Luved them, she did,
Luved us too.
Momma cared for the dolls,
as she cared for us.
When I see the dolls,
I remember to care,
the forgotten,
the unluved,
and the broken.
For Momma and I were broken too.
Tuesday, June 13, 2017
The church, universal, nourished, in the wilderness
"Behold, I do not bring it to destroy that
If this generation harden not their hearts,
I will establish my church among them.
Now I do not say this to destroy my church,
but I say this to build up my church;
Therefore, whosoever belongeth to my church need not fear, for such shall inherit the kingdom of heaven."
"And the woman fled to the wilderness,
where she had a place prepared by God
where she would be sustained... "
how long did she linger there,
their in the wilderness
nestled by the fire,
of his writers and poets.
concealed was she, there, nourished.
when to come forth,
and replenish the earth?
Milton unearthed her,
concealed among the poets.
"Say Heav'nly Muse, shall not thy sacred vein [ 15 ]
Afford a present to the Infant God?
Hast thou no vers, no hymn, or solemn strein,
To welcom him to this his new abode,"
"And dig'd out ribs of Gold. Let none admire [ 690 ]
That riches grow in Hell; "
"That underneath had veins of liquid fire [ 701 ] ...
Severing each kind, and scum'd the Bullion dross:"
Let no man question, then,
in the wilderness, she remained,
to be brought forth .
in all her restoration, and glory.
Friday, June 9, 2017
Elousia, In her womb ..
In her womb.
I rest ...
On RACHAM : Hebrew, mercy, bosom, womb
Papa: The Shack, William Paul. Young
Wednesday, May 31, 2017
On the Bastardization of English by the vulgar folk ...
"Zeal to promote the common good, whether it be by devising anything ourselves, or revising that which hath been laboured by others, deserveth certainly much respect and esteem, but yet findeth but cold entertainment in the world. It is welcomed with suspicion instead of love, and with emulation instead of thanks: and if there be any hole left for cavil to enter, (and cavil, if it do not find a hole, will make one) it is sure to be misconstrued, and in danger to be condemned. This will easily be granted by as many as know story, or have any experience. For, was there ever any thing projected, that savoured any way of newness or renewing, but the same endured many a storm of gainsaying, or opposition? A man would think that Civility, wholesome Laws, learning and eloquence, Synods, and Church-maintenance, (that we speak of no more things of this kind) should be as safe as a Sanctuary, and out of shot, as they say, that no man would lift up the heel, no, nor dog move his tongue against the motioners of them. For by the first, we are distinguished from brute beasts lead with sensuality; By the second, we are bridled and restrained from outrageous behaviour, and from doing of injuries, whether by fraud or by violence; By the third, we are enabled to inform and reform others, by the light and feeling that we have attained unto ourselves; Briefly, by the fourth being brought together to a parley face to face, we sooner compose our differences than by writings which are endless; And lastly, that the Church be sufficiently provided for, is so agreeable to good reason and conscience, that those mothers are holden to be less cruel, that kill their children as soon as they are born, than those nursing fathers and mothers (wheresoever they be) that withdraw from them who hang upon their breasts (and upon whose breasts again themselves do hang to receive the Spiritual and sincere milk of the word) livelihood and support fit for their estates. Thus it is apparent, that these things which we speak of, are of most necessary use, and therefore, that none, either without absurdity can speak against them, or without note of wickedness can spurn against them.
Yet for all that, the learned know that certain worthy men have been brought to untimely death for none other fault, but for seeking to reduce their countrymen to good order and discipline; and that in some Commonwealths it was made a capital crime, once to motion the making of a new Law for the abrogating of an old, though the same were most pernicious; And that certain, which would be counted pillars of the State, and patterns of Virtue and Prudence, could not be brought for a long time to give way to good Letters and refined speech, but bare themselves as averse from them, as from rocks or boxes of poison; And fourthly, that he was no babe, but a great clerk, that gave forth (and in writing to remain to posterity) in passion peradventure, but yet he gave forth, that he had not seen any profit to come by any Synod, or meeting of the Clergy, but rather the contrary; And lastly, against Church-maintenance and allowance, in such sort, as the Ambassadors and messengers of the great King of Kings should be furnished, it is not unknown what a fiction or fable (so it is esteemed, and for no better by the reporter himself, though superstitious) was devised; Namely, that at such a time as the professors and teachers of Christianity in the Church of Rome, then a true Church, were liberally endowed, a voice forsooth was heard from heaven, saying: Now is poison poured down into the Church, etc. Thus not only as oft as we speak, as one saith, but also as oft as we do anything of note or consequence, we subject ourselves to everyone's censure, and happy is he that is least tossed upon tongues; for utterly to escape the snatch of them it is impossible. If any man conceit, that this is the lot and portion of the meaner sort only, and that Princes are privileged by their high estate, he is deceived. As the sword devoureth as well one as the other, as it is in Samuel [2 Sam 11:25], nay as the great Commander charged his soldiers in a certain battle, to strike at no part of the enemy, but at the face; And as the King of Syria commanded his chief Captains to fight neither with small nor great, save only against the King of Israel: [1 Kings 22:31] so it is too true, that Envy striketh most spitefully at the fairest, and at the chiefest. David was a worthy Prince, and no man to be compared to him for his first deeds, and yet for as worthy as act as ever he did (even for bringing back the Ark of God in solemnity) he was scorned and scoffed at by his own wife [2 Sam 6:16]. Solomon was greater than David, though not in virtue, yet in power: and by his power and wisdom he built a Temple to the Lord, such a one as was the glory of the land of Israel, and the wonder of the whole world. But was that his magnificence liked of by all? We doubt of it. Otherwise, why do they lay it in his son's dish, and call unto him for easing of the burden, Make, say they, the grievous servitude of thy father, and his sore yoke, lighter. [1 Kings 12:4] Belike he had charged them with some levies, and troubled them with some carriages; Hereupon they raise up a tragedy, and wish in their heart the Temple had never been built. So hard a thing it is to please all, even when we please God best, and do seek to approve ourselves to everyone's conscience."
(Preface King James Version in the edition of 1611)
I know we often disparage the change in the English Language as the common folk create, change and mold it. Twitter, texting, and Facebook have strongly shaped the language in the current generation. Even as The Tyndale Translation and English Common Book of Prayer shaped and molded 16-17th century English.
The ability of the English Language to shape and mold itself to the needs of the rising generation while retaining its ability to communicate ageless thought is part of why it is the dominant language in the world today.
Sunday, May 28, 2017
The drink, ... with a friend.
In it comes, out it goes.
A confession, or renewal.
The invitation.
To return, thus, it is.
Now to renew, the journey.
Hope of a rebirth, of the covenant.
Thus a trade, a restoration.
The end, of the beginning.
5-28-2017
Wednesday, May 17, 2017
On the power of myth.
"Go back to the darkest roots of civilization and you will find them knotted round some sacred stone or encircling some sacred well. People first paid honour to a spot and afterwards gained glory for it. Men did not love Rome because she was great. She was great because they had loved her." (G.K. Chesterton, Orthodoxy)
The stories of Luke Skywalker or Han Solo are the sacred myth of my generation. Though set "Long ago and far, far away" They are the sacred fire we built our culture around.
Another is the story of Adam and Eve. This story has transformed my relationship with my mother. Thus the power of this myth.
Eve was a woman who desired to have children. In her desire to have children, she became broken. In this brokenness we now live. Eve sacrificed her presence with God so I could be born.
My mom and I have a difficult relationship. We are both broken souls. It is the power of the Eve myth that rebuilds our relationship. I value the sacrifices offered by her, her mother, and her mother's mother, to create my life. This gratitude has driven me, to restore my relationship, with my mother.
These sacrifices , are not in theory. These sacrifices, are in fact. My mother's family have collected these stories. I know their names and birthplace to at least 7 generations. I have their stories. The babies, they lost. The husbands they buried. They are real to me.
Thus, the power of the Eve myth to shape and forge, mine and my mothers relationship.
These myths tie me to my mothers, for all time.
When she, was part, of him ...
their she was, in him, Adam
did he not see her.
she was a part of him,
but he was alone.
all of creation had a companion,
he did not, or so it seamed, to him.
then came the separation,
now she was not part of him.
now he was not alone,
or so it seamed to him.
now, through all eternity,
he must strive,
to return,
to when, she was part of him.
Friday, May 5, 2017
To'be less, is more. ver 2.0
To be grateful for.
The more I seek.
The less I am.
To'be no more.
Then less of more.
All the more.
Thursday, May 4, 2017
it is a twilight
a ris'n or a setting mourn
no more they mourn
when gone, i am
who will mourn
in the mor'n
or in eve,
the twilight
is it a rising
or a setting mourn.
Friday, April 28, 2017
This, new feeling, so long ago.
What was it she said,
...this, now, so long ago.
It seamed new, and fresh,
...this, now, so long ago.
this feeling was old, yet new
this feeling, of yester-year
was it lost,
or was it found
This feeling, I never knew,
...this, now, so long ago.
Steven Bassett
April 2015
Saturday, April 15, 2017
To be, less is more.
To be grateful is,
To be grateful for.
This more I seek.
Then is it more?
The more I become,
The less I am.
T'is this I seek
To be less, then more..
The more I am,
The more I seek.
The more I seek,
The less I am.
Till then I am,
To'be no more.
I will seek,
Then less of more
To then I 'come,
All the more.
Steven Basset
April 2015
Sunday, April 9, 2017
The choice, She made.
She luv'd him,
but why.
This then, the many years.
If luv is a verb ...
Then luv him, she did.
Many actions, through the years.
He knew, no children,
might be their lot.
Still ...
She luved him.
Accepted her, he did ...
only to discover, it was,
he not her.
Then came the gift, of the two.
But would he be,
the one, she choose, always ...
,to luv.
This then, must be ...
,his choice, to serve her, then ...
he must, and choose
This luv, daily.
Saturday, April 8, 2017
Still, know I not.
The poetry,
Comes forth.
Rest, in My soul
Friday, April 7, 2017
The Talent, To cultivate.
To be'still my soul,
Come'th it now..
Invited I not,
yet come'th, then forth.
This talent, long buried ...
lay dormant it still.
To this, then the garden...
the garden, my soul.
Tragedy, brought for'th,
To cultivate, thus,
This, to the muze,
be grateful, ther'by.
Tuesday, April 4, 2017
Still know, I not then
From whence,
doeth it come.
Come'th it does,
To now and then
Then and now
come'th it still
still to my heart
come'th it now
Still doeth it come
To'be quiet my soul
My soul to be'stilll
Doth quiet it now.
To reveal is to hide
Remaith their, still.
April 4, 2016
Saturday, March 4, 2017
The Tau, of Stev,
It came at a great cost,
The Tao, of Stev,
Momma full of pain.
Papa, lost his mind.
Brother, not certain, of love.
Two sister's, struggled, to find a place,
... and each other.
How does one struggle?
... for a Tao.
He thought he found it,
... in the church that supported, him, them.
More discoveries, on the mission,
to Mississippi.
A wife.
Two children ...
Gifts from one, who loved them.
Then, the car accident,
... the cancer returns.
He lost it all,
in the deepest part, of his soul.
How to recover, the Tao ...
,saught he then.
, ... still does now.
Sunday, February 19, 2017
The circumcision
... the same for me.
... for us?
... of the covenant.
... mine, for him.
... now I make them for him.
... of love, and care.
... sins.
... and choice.
... to understand, his choices,
... and mine.
To heal, a broken soul
I am damaged goods .
Born defective..
Of broken soul's.
Young they were...
these broken soul's.
They sought to repair us...
the doctor's ...
... and the priests.
This long time ...
... they have sought our souls.
He was broken too.
Broken by the ones,
he sought to redeem.
In this brokenness,
...then beyond redemption, are we?
Then on, to redemption,
this journey, then we seek
Then to serve,
... in our brokenness,
... is what remains.
Saturday, January 21, 2017
The drive, to rescue, a soul.
Friday, January 20, 2017
This then to be grateful.
How many times,
had he returned.
Alone.
Was he alone,
in crowds?
This three days,
this then, no more ...
Alone.
The dishes, she cleaned,
the table, she set,
the dinner, she served.
This, the one,
who gave him life.
had ceased to do,
long ago,
This three days,
she had come,
to change, his life.
Then to be grateful,
must he,
then be.
This, then,
to show,
gratitude, and luv.
To return, to luv, and youth.
Luv is so sweet,
When taken, this choice.
To choose to luv,
T'is it a gift, from diety.
Tougher, then, this choice,
A return, then, to joy.
The sweetness can come,
... after years of bitter sorrow.
Earned thus it is.
Like vinegar, that reduces, to wine.
This reversal to youth ...
like young luv, it returns.
The bitterness, long forgotten. .
It, the act of a two part ...
Forgiveness,
...
Thus returns, to youth, and joy ...
tobe, then, to the,
... "I Am" ...
Wednesday, January 11, 2017
She, who bore, the children
The choice, she made.
The gift, they shared.
Two for them,
was the gift.
A choice, not an accident,
or mistake.
This, a free will gift ...
of Luv.
Honored they were,
by the gift ...
this gift of Luv.
Together ...
they cherished,
The Children.
Monday, January 9, 2017
This daughter of Eve.
This daughter of Eve,
and ...
Adam's off-ox.
To luv her ...
In the end, was the choice.
But how to choose.
Her sisters would have replaced,
... her.
This choice was not made,in his youth.
This daughter off Eve ...
was distant, as was, Adams off-ox.
How many of Eves daughter's,
had sacrificed to create, her life.
How many of Eve's daughters,
would he lose, if he selected, an aunt,
for, his mom.
This price, he would not pay.
Reach out again ... he did.
This dance, this time, they,
... did not pull away.
Together they danced,
and celebrated Eve's daughters,
and Adams off-ox.
Thursday, January 5, 2017
This then the Miracle
This, then, the miracle,
He comes ?
Tis pierced, and shunned.
This then, the miracle,
We seek.
To recognize.
The one, we do.
This, then the miracle.
Wednesday, January 4, 2017
This then pot, the plant
I prayed for a miracle,
I got the pot, planted.
Her death, would it come ?
Know I not, but when,
soon...
God, then sent, this gift
This to recognize, took but, years.
Death has not come,
Pass by it thus,
Has ...
This wife, still thus,
I have, and children too.
Plus one. ..
Solved ...
The great Nephretic puzzle
Thus, I have.
Now to be greatful,
For the miracle, he hath wrought.
And gifts, we now share.
(Book Of Mormon, 1 Nephi ch. 4)
Chapter 4
Nephi slays Laban at the Lord’s command and then secures the plates of brass by stratagem—Zoram chooses to join Lehi’s family in the wilderness. About 600–592 B.C.
10 And it came to pass that I was constrained by the Spirit that I should kill Laban; but I said in my heart: Never at any time have I shed the blood of man. And I shrunk and would that I might not slay him.
...
12 And it came to pass that the Spirit said unto me again: Slay him, for the Lord hath delivered him into thy hands;
13 Behold the Lord slayeth the wicked to bring forth his righteous purposes. It is better that one man should perish than that a nation should dwindle and perish in unbelief
Wednesday, December 14, 2016
She closed her heart
Tuesday, December 13, 2016
Luv, being a verb
... love being a verb
is a things that retains ...
requires action to endure
life being unfair,
Is ment to sustain.
how to be greatful,
and not bitter and angry
when those we love are,
Tobe,, taken..
strive always...
to awaken each morning,
to be greatful,
...that you share, one more day.
Dec 2015
Sunday, October 23, 2016
The scars, they shared.
"Follow me all you who are heavy-laden and I will give you rest."
Wednesday, October 5, 2016
To peer into his soul.
A near miss, and a shared loss.
A near miss, and a shared loss.
Saturday, October 1, 2016
A longing for Joy
a longing intense...
this drive will not rest ...
not feeling at home.
I need to leave peace.
The circle I seek,
return I may then.
** Joy = Sehnsucht a difficult to translate Germain concept.
[my first poem Oct 2011]
Inspired by (Suprised by Joy: The Shape of My Early Life, Clive Stanley Lewis)
(see, G.K. Chesterton, "Homesick at Home” (1896) from The Coloured Lands (London: Sheed & Ward, 1938))
see http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Sehnsucht
Thursday, September 29, 2016
Still, the question.
Still the poetry,
From where doeth it come.
But come'th it does.
Till I come,
It reaches me.
Forever more
And then the same.
Doeth it reach you?
much ado about no'thing
Tuesday, September 27, 2016
Between, the storms
Monday, September 26, 2016
on Hosea and Gomer ver 2.0
Thursday, September 22, 2016
On being faithful, to his unbelief.
Their he sits,
on the back row,
most Sundays.
The back slider.
He had lost it,
so long ago,
on his mission,
to redeem the world.
He was deep-rooted,
in his unbelief...
So faithful,
to its loss ...
He married outside the faith.
A daughter came then too.
They raised her in his faithfulness,
to his unbelief.
His wife thought...
Their daughter needed,
a faith,
a belief.
His was as good, as any other.
Perhaps, even better.
Many times, he had tried,
to leave his unbelief.
It was marrow deep,
in his bones.
His ancestors buried it,
deep there,
ever so deep,
he could not retrieve it.
It become a blessing,
his unbelief.
Let him see, the true light,
at the center, of every soul.
Was his prayer unanswered,
in his unbelief?
Lord, I do not believe,
Bless me now, in my unbelief.
*Inspired by the life and unbelief of Levi Peterson, author of "The Backslider". It is my understanding that it was his non-mormon wife's desire to raise their daughter in the mormon faith.
Wednesday, September 21, 2016
on Hosea and Gomer
Sunday, September 18, 2016
On the World, Becoming
The world,
Is it now becoming?
They seek to divide,
to sell us the goods.
Hate sells better
then love.
To advertise,
they must shock us.
Murder, theft, and robbery,
sell better then,
kittens and new puppies.
To entertain they must devide us.
By all measure the world gets better,
When I walk away,
turn it off,
and seek to serve.
Steven Bassett sept 2015
Thursday, September 15, 2016
on being Geppetto, or block of wood.
Tuesday, September 13, 2016
On becoming a parent.
Saturday, September 3, 2016
I rode a poem today.
I wrote, a poem, today,
Or did it ride me.
To be taken, for a ride,
by a poem.
It climbs out.
Kicking and scratching,
and crawling my way.
Soon to be forgotten.
No fish to wrap.
No fires to start.
Just memories to make,
and lives to change.
Friday, September 2, 2016
he said, she said
Friday, August 26, 2016
To still the (mourning/morning)
T'is it, this past, to then, be gone.
gone it is, this (morning/mourning) long.
When mourn has come, and then be gone.
T'is it too quiet, to come, this morn.
To simmer, this fire, this pain, this past.
to leave behind, this (mourn/morn), at last.
Thursday, August 25, 2016
The choice, in the bedroom. Ver 1.0
he found her that way,
in the bedroom with his best friend.
his loaded glock in his right hand
his anger in his left.
the choice, now to make.
it would change the world.
how long does one count
to ones self
before changing the world ...
years later , the children
did he love her still?
they burned through them all,
together and apart.
one luver after another.
now together, again they are.
he on one bedroom, she in another.
like a little wipped puppy, she was.
yet he luved her still.
yet to leave her he must,
to go on she will.
but the children between them they have,
to luv them still,
this choice to make,
this choice to share.
Tuesday, August 16, 2016
First the pot, then the flower.
An apple was it not,
or then maybe a flower.
Bare fruit it did,
then.
Doe'th one plant a flower,
to preserve a life.
The first fruit, doe'th,
it become?
Brought forth first,
knowledge.
Then eternal life.
This the choice,
a flower thus plant,
to then the cure.
Then more they whole,
once more again .
To thus a family,
tobe the more.
Monday, August 15, 2016
Sits, their he, no more
no more, sits he, their'by
Waiting.
The weight, is no more.
The burden we carry, no more.
Together.
Now he doth wait,
For the more part .
The part to come then,
When we are no more,
Separate.
But, together, again.
On meeting his daughter.
Going is he not?
To meet her today.
She came with,
the one he luved.
The bonus child.
Got her body,
did she then?
Then home again,
went she.
Home, to await his arrival.
Here to raise a family,
was he ...
Never far,
from his thoughts,
was she ...
Look like them,
did she then ?
The other children,
and her ...
Meet they now,
and joy'es it be.
Friday, August 12, 2016
Marriage, a "Vulgar" notion.
In marriage,
two stages, be their may.
Three their be,
If luck their hold.
To work them through,
The second to return,
To the first.
Is the work of,
of a lifetime.
T'is it then a Vulgar notion.
For a Vulgar time.
From fuck you, in the hallway,
To fuck you, as we pass.
To have the courage,
To change, forget, and forgive.
To return the cycle.
To this, then be my task,
In this life.
*Vulgar: of the common folk, peasant class, redneck notion.
Thursday, August 11, 2016
The London Illustrated News .
I let them loose, today.
Where they ever, really, mine.
The thoughts, I possessed...
When I possessed them.
they were mine?
Now are recorded, and scattered.
Scattered to the wind.
Chesterton, had his thoughts,
in the penny papers, of his day,
The London Illustrated News.
They wrapped fish in then.
They used them, like the Sears, Roebuck, Catalog,
In the outhouse,
To finish, their duty,
Now I publish, to the blog,
and facebook too?
Will my thoughts last, long.
Will I be remembered,
When gone, I am.
Still the thoughts,
I carry, and Share,
maybe you, can share,
them too.
Gilbert (G.K.) Keith Chesterton.
Tuesday, August 9, 2016
The covenant, and the sparrow.
Why choose to luv, him
Faithful was he, not
The many years,
and the children.
Sleeping side by side.
always to mourn, what could have been.
Together, apart came they always.
Always, together and apart.
To give up, many would have now.
Yet, not give up she has...
Did she see what he could be,
and not what he was,
or had been.
Was he the sparrow,
God watched and mourned?
It is said, never a sparrow doeth fall,
but God doeth not take notice of.
If he, god wanted, him,
how could she not.
This covenant,
This eternal,
This ever more.
This she seeks,
and ever see's.
Monday, August 8, 2016
Saturday, August 6, 2016
The question, the poetry.
From whence comes the poetry.
Come rising up it doth.
Like a great lava flow.
Surging, rising, and falling.
Up and down.
To and fro.
It will not rest,
Till rest I do.
To come forth birthed.
A full grown child.
Then nurtured to a final form.
Released again, anew.
To then come forth.
And visit you now.
And then to share.
This world of ours.
A covenant marriage.
Why stay?
Together, and apart.
Twenty four, plus four, then one.
Faithful, had not, been they?
The others, last did not ...
Still.
they, remain,
together, and apart.
Courage then comes,
together, and apart.
Searching for the missing,
Together, and apart.
The need, the lack, their in
Together, it drove, them
Together, and apart.
The four plus one,
are more then the two.
Then, to the end,
Thus, then were they.
Together, and apart.
Friday, August 5, 2016
The anger lies...
The anger lies,
so deep down, below.
Deep down,
Does it lie.
From whence comes truth?
Truth does not lie.
It moves, and feels, and grows.
From whence, find I,
The truth,
That doth not,
Lie,
their by,
and not below?
Tuesday, August 2, 2016
The poetry
The poems,
From where, do they, come forth
To come forth, this,
they do, now.
Like a spring ...
of lava, flowing forth.
Like fire, and ice.
They cover, cool, and heal.
The thoughts.
So long, lay buried.
They buried her, buried him.
Then buried it.
The thoughts...
How long, they struggle,
To come forth.
The choice, in the bedroom
To this, the bedroom,
To them, he found
His wife, his friend,
Embracing now.
Two forks their come
Two choices, now ...
To this, the right, the loaded glock,
To then the left, this anger still.
To this, the choice,
To then, to make.
To then himself,
To this to count.
To then, to change
this world, now.
To this, the children
to luv her still?
then to burn,
their luvers, all.
Why together, are the now?
Till once together,
Till then, they part.
this, then bedrooms,
Two their now.
one for he,
Then, one for her.
then on he goes,
And on to be,
Then two, the one,
they be no more.
But to the children,
between them be,
this the choice,
then be, their now.
The choice, in the bedroom
he found her that way,
in the bedroom with his best friend.
his loaded glock in his right hand
his anger in his left.
the choice, now to make.
it would change the world.
how long does one count
to ones self
before changing the world ...
years later , the children
did he love her still.
together and apart,
they burned through them all,
one luver after another.
now together, again they are.
he in one bedroom, she in another.
wipped puppy, she was.
luved her still, did he?
yet to leave her he must,
to go on she will.
but the children
this between them,
the choice
to luv them still,
this then to make,
this then to share.
--
Wednesday, July 27, 2016
The knife, in hand.
I take the knife,
In hand, to scrape.
This, then the layers.
To peel them back.
T'is it, an onion,
This thing,
This feeling,
This longing, and regret.
t'is it now, read/red,
Or always been.
This pain, comes forth?
This to suffer.
At our hands?
The ones,
He luved.
To cleans this now,
This now comes forth.
To bring new life,
This now the game.
Renew it now,
With fire and ice.
To come again,
This now the choice.
Bodies broken, and my soul.
to build again,
this fear of loss"
to learn to luv
and luv again
is it joy
or is it pain
to see the dark,
depart with light.
T'is it pain,
or is it joy.
to feel the strength
from bodies bent.
broken, used,
like my soul
to lose i must,
be built again
to chose to luv
the pain within.
Monday, July 25, 2016
On thinking of Mom.
Thinking of mom,
This day once more
To learn to luv
And luv again
In sorrow and in pain.
To luv and joy.
Mixed feelings
Have we yet.
To choose to luv
And live once more
Seek we now,
This choice,
once more
To end this day,
to choose once more..
Sunday, June 26, 2016
church talk 06-26-2016
The life and Death of Gloria
Shall it be not her life's shadow;
What shadow she doeth cast'
What light is the source their of?.
that casteth forth;
On her death.
To start an exploration.
On death , or life
- I wanted to see Gloria enter the covenant of Baptism
- I wanted, to see, her conversion, or turning back to God.
- I did not want to see a woman, who was dying, not one grasping for life.
- Gloria helped me to understand that God works in many wonderful ways. He uses his children to bless one another other. We are his hands on Earth.
- God used my parents, who did not attend church services, to support my mission
- God used a member who did attend services to help Gloria gain a testimony of the gospel of Christ.
ON Mommas’ Afghan.
Momma loved to knit afghan’s. They helped her to pass the time when she was watching television. Her Momma taught her how to crochet as a young child. I can remember many hours watching her crochet. She had crocheted so long she no longer watched her stitching, it was a mechanical motion more like walking or chewing gum. I wonder if it helped her to think.
Momma decided each of her children needed a good heavy afghan. She had collected many small balls of yarn from previous projects. The afghan’s were heavy. They had a heavy double stitch, one color on each side. The afghan were so heavy they were best used in the winter.
Each afghan required a year to complete. She worked on those afghans for four years. Each year one of her children received an afghan for Christmas. I wonder if she thought about her children as she was knitting each one of them their afghan. One child could not read well and had difficulty in school. He was color blind and had trouble telling his colors apart. One children read well but had difficulty speaking to people his own age. He never dated much, but was fortunate to find a good woman who understood him. One child never ate enough and had to be reminded when it was time to eat. This child still struggles with her weight and is now developing M.S. One child struggled with her first marriage and lived with Mom for a couple years. Mom helped her to raise her sons until a man came along who loved her boys and adopted them as his own. They now have five more children and how do they keep her busy.
Momma married young and grew up with her children. Her husband was a challenge. Signs of high functioning Autism and hyperactivity are present in the male line of his family. Momma would never have understood these words she just knew Dad had a tough time filtering his thoughts. He spoke out in inappropriate times and in inappropriate places. My Dad and his Father were forbidden to be in the Smith Brother Lumber Company together. One of them at a time was more than a handful.
Each fall my wife pulls the afghan out of the closet and puts is on our bed. I love to fell warm and comforted by it’s weight.
The afghan reminds of my mother and her life. The afghan is no longer perfect like it was when my mother gave it to me. A few years ago I snagged it on a piece of furniture. Their is a small stitch torn out of one side. My mamma's life was like this afghan. It was no loner perfect like it had been when her Momma gave life to her. Even though this afghan is no longer perfect it is still functional and fulfills its purpose. I have ask my wife to repair the snagged. My wife is skilled in the art of crochet. She tells me it is not possible to repair the snag. Even if she did repair the afghan it would no longer be the afghan my mother crocheted. As the year go by I learn to appreciate the afghan for it beauty and its flaw. It becomes more real with time like Margery Williams Velveteen rabbit (see. The Velveteen Rabbit or How Toys Become Real )
(note insert reading from book)
On television, and cheap whiskey
To luv...a choice ?!
to this I do see ?
To choose thus I must?
Though painful it be.
This pain then it brings,
To me it does now.
A lesson to learn
A gift to bestow.
On a "Highway 20 Ride"
Days would not be wasted on this drive
And I want so bad to hold you
Son, there's things I haven't told you
Your mom and me just couldn't get along
So I'll drive
And I think about my life
And wonder why I'll slowly die inside
Everytime I turn that truck around, right at the Georgia line
and I count the days and the miles back home to you on that Highway 20 ride
A day might come and you'll realize that if you could see through my eyes
There was no other way to work it out
And a part of you might hate me
But son please don't mistake me
For a man that didn't care at all
So I drive
And I think about my life
And wonder why I'll slowly die inside
Every time I turn that truck around, right at the Georgia line
and I count the days and the miles back home to you on that Highway 20 ride
So when you drive
And the years go flying by
I hope you smile
If I ever cross your mind
It was a pleasure of my life
And I cherished every time
And my whole world
It begins and ends with you
On that Highway 20 ride....
Writer(s): Zachry Brown, Wyatt Durrette
Copyright: Angelika Music
Together and apart.
Like two beta fish, Locked in a distance, embrace.
Together, and apart.
...
Found, her hair,
in my wallet,
Together, and apart
like she has carried me, for so long.
Why do I carry, It.
Why does she carry,Me.
Daily, We dance.
"The Class"
Dance class, once we tried, together.
Together, we do not dance.
but dance we do, Together and apart.
and yet I have her, with me
Always, The hair, the dance.
Together, and apart.
The poetry,
from whence doeth it come.
Yet heal'th it does,
And renews again.
My muze,
Maybe Milton,
He is
to sleep then this morn.
to this leave I now
her sleeping their on.
no more do I mourn,
to rest I do I leave
this anger, this morn,
to sleep it there'by
to this may it rest
her sleeping there'by.
(Hope of the Gospel; George Macdonald, ch 10)
Not of my accord,
Would you be with me?
Would you hold my hand,
And sing sweet lullabies,
Of comfort to me.
Thou knowest the end,
And the beginning.
What must I learn,
Being driven to Hell,
Like Job, or Virgil.
Thou standest by me,
As a true friend.
Of free will then comes the choice,
But not the consequences.
Never alone, am I,
Or far from thee,
And thy thoughts.
(Inspired from reading of "The Sparrow", Maria Doria Russell,1996)