LOVE is patient;
live is kind.
Love is not jealous
it is not arrogant or rude.
Love does not insist
on its own way; it is not
irritable- or resentful;
it does not rejoice at wrong
but rejoices in the right.
Love bears all things,
believes all things, hopes
all things, endures all things,
Love never ends.
This is apart of a beautiful picture
all set in pink roses in bloom
that I had given my Dad long ago
that has just came back to me.
Sher-ing the love my Dad gave...
to me, xo!
For the longest while
I didn't think
I had anything to say.
Then, it occurred to me
that maybe the problem
was there was no one I
wanted to say anything
to. Now, I'm not so sure,
but I'm listening more mindfully,
and hearing words yet unspoken,
again and again,
and with such resounding clarity
at times that I am moved to write
the thoughts I think I have heard
Part of my reluctance,
if you could call it that,
to be my own bellringer
for the longest while,
it was decades if a day,
arises from the knowledge,
of which I am fairly certain
following years of informal
field research into the issue,
that it has indeed
all been said before, and
probably said better than
my meager poetic means
will ever come to muster.
I saw no point, then,
in being derivative,
that was all
Any self-imposed silence, I knew,
would be unoriginal. But I was no
Stoic in my having-nothing-to-say,
nor would I ever be confused
with a silently suffering saint.
Even with not a thing to say, I always
found injustices to make noise about,
if only to draw attention to my plight,
which, to my recollective secondary sight
looks as unfocused as it was unfounded,
but at the time it seemed real and imposing
enough for me to raise a serious stink about.
What gives a bell its tone
is not simply the material
of which the chime is cast,
which, otherwise arranged,
would only clank or clang.
Rather, it is the void defined
by the placement of material
wherein emerges the ringing.
We do not care-
That much is clear.
Of us care
We are not wise-
For that reason
Is much against
-langston hughes' poem "war and wisdom"
God in His infinite wisdom
Did not make me very wise-
so when my actions are stupid
They hardly take God by surprise
"though my soul may set in darkness, it will rise in perfect light;
i have loved the stars too fondly to be fearful of the night"
-from her beautiful poem,
"the old astronomer"
Unity in the Mystical Body
I plead with you, then, as a
prisoner for the Lord to live a
life worthy of the calling you have
received, 2 with perfect humility,
meekness, and patience, bearing with
one another lovingly. 3 Make every
effort to preserve the unity which
has the Spirit as its origin and peace
as its binding force. 4 There is but
one body and one Spirit, just as
there is but one hope given all of you
by your call. 5 There is one Lord,
one faith, one baptism; 6 one God
and Father of all, who is over all,
and works through all, and is in all.
Ephesians 6: 1-6
"i am.... a mushroom;
on whom the dew
of heaven drops
now and then."
there once was a band with a website
that lett people chat all night
with millions of topics
but a motive of profit
started to make it a bad fit
and nobody named rhino could change it
we're all left to wonder
was it an IT blunder
or deadhead rhinoids with heads split asunder
that was driving their website under
in retrospect so simple
hire people who can make websites a wonder
and stop the product/commercial blunder
and you'll sell a shitload of product
before a bust of Jerry in alabaster plaster
A few years ago my wife and I were walking to a theater to see Lou Reed. I slipped on the blackest of black ice, landed square on my back. It hurt, a lot. Other folks -- complete strangers -- walking down the same sidewalk stopped to make sure that I was ok, helped me up, and so on.
My wife? Barely able to stand herself...because she was laughing so hard. Apparently it was the funniest thing she's ever seen. She still talks about it. Thanks, sweetheart.
Tend to have more have an intimate relationship with black ice...
Stylish, low-profile crampons, anyone?