Welcome back to National Parks and other public lands with T! Ringwood Manor and its surrounding 479 acres, including the historic cemetery, became a national historic landmark district in 1966. The Ringwood Manor district and the nearby Skylands Manor comprise Ringwood State Park. The history of Ringwood is rooted in its colonial era ironworks. Robert…
The Historic Cemetery at Ringwood Manor — National Parks With T
How evil interferes with Godly intentions, or deeds that are life giving and Spirit enhancing, the pain that is unleashed and felt generations later. The resentment sown into hearts, the way those who hold the Spirit of God as treasure in their hearts, become neon targets, because of the way they shine. The demon uses all the devises possible, in short, the hatred inside, which gives us insight into why things go wrong. Someone close to you is targeted, the pain you feel,same as that of a mother who loses her child or has some great tragedy incurred. Malfeasance is intentional harm, misfeasance is unintended. Or put another way, when it’s a stranger who inflicts the harm, you can easily get over it, when it’s someone close to you, the cut is so much deeper. Imagine the pain Jesus Christ felt, forced to carry the cross, the jeering crowd, so he wasn’t a prophet of God they huffed, same as those who gloat, when those with strong social standing, are reduced in stature, how their small hearts fill up with all the wrong stuff, how dark those hearts, amen.
Solomon was taking example from the past, and the lessons written, not just stories,but real lessons, same as Jesus did, when he used parables to explain the ways to the Holy Father; how lost we’d become, if we didn’t have these sources of help, and then consider this, as a wise man once said; History is written by the victors, amen, and it’s never the truth. The balanced view; maybe old shaky wrote those stories, to secretly remind us, to read between the lines. Well considering the deviousness of the demon and that army of well resourced supporters, the proverbial Eagles Lair, high in the mountains, away from all threats, who can touch us up there.
But don’t allow the bad stuff drown you internally. Those who take pleasure or any joy in the fall of others, will have to answer to the highest power in the universe, reputation or not, it’s the same for everyone, apart from those taken directly into the heavenly realms,amen. Jesus tells his followers to forgive, not once, not twice, but many times, because if you can’t forgive, what is it you carry inside you, or pass on to others, it’s the law of physics, amen, the rock being, well, if you need to know that, you got reading to do, amen.
So many souls have had to deal with enormous grief and pain, how can you survive it they say, it’s too much, impossible the apostles say. Then Jesus says, when you have the help of God, nothing is impossible,amen, never give up,eternal life with the living God is the greatest of all rewards, read Ezra the prophet, he explains the seven joys, awaiting the souls, that return to their Heavenly home, be part of that team, start loving today, ignore those who sow hate,their fate is fixed, amen.
Will you get out of bed, darn, he tightens the duvet, tries to appear asleep, he hears the steps getting nearer,he grabs the duvet, can I hide under the bed, no chance, too many smelly socks, the door opens, he tries to poke an eye out, is that a wooden spoon in her hand, he suddenly throws back the cover, is up immediately,Ma he says, looking at the wooden stick, she is a member of anxiety, no amnesty international, the peace organisation, they don’t do violence, get a job, Ma,you said my job was to think, while all the others are doing, otherwise they’ll lose all sense of direction,that’s what you said last night,his eyes fixed on hers, well ma, you mean you didn’t mean it. And change your under pants, her eyes on his jocks, the state of them she says, any clean shirts he replies, as she descends the stairs.
Later, in town, he has a sour face, a pal walks beside him, they are seeking something to do. They pass the adult sex shop, they don’t look in, they have passed it so often, besides who will pay a fortune for a piece of plastic, just because of the label and the wrapping. Later in a coffee shop, they discuss their choices. A man across from them is reading a newspaper. Did you see that, what says Johnny. Oh that replies the pal, should we buy a copy later. Well, Johnny likes the occasional flutter, and doesn’t want to spend his last dollars on a paper. The headline reads, “Judge concerned with the large number of young porn offenders”.. the word porn, it excites them,action, what, it just does, the same way a sale sign in a window attracts a shopper with cash.
Afterwards, they are walking home, penniless, Johnny lost again. I thought you had inspiration his pal says, Johnny shakes his head, she wasn’t wearing yellow, what, his pal looks at him, are you on drugs, Johnny is pissed off and hungry, when she wears yellow i feel inspired, his pal shakes his head, better get a job, or i will end up like him.
In the door, his shoulders slouched, he tries to avoid the kitchen, as he is half way up the stairs his Ma catches him. I’m going to the bathroom he says. She watches him trail on, what will i don with him she thinks. Later in the kitchen, the two of them are eating their tea, you, she is about to ask him, but the fork of egg and beans makes it to her mouth instead. A tasty bite ma he says. You didn’t look yourself coming in the door, is there something you need to tell me. If her tells her he lost the pocket money again, she won’t be pleased. He has to say something, think, think, think. Why do they have adult sex stores near schools, knowing that small wee children pass them everyday and more than once, shouldn’t they be in other areas. She puts down her fork, a big smile on her face,it’s as if he won first prize in an exam. That’s the first bit of sense that came out of your mouth in twenty years,do you want money, go see a picture if you want. He is amazed,this is new. I knew you’d turn to something good, would you like some cake with your tea, i just bought a new one.
Later he is in front of the TV, a rug around his legs, as if he’s camped. Ma opens the door,a tray before her, and two cups of tea and a plate of cake. Brains do occasionally work. Ma he says, would they allow you drive a car without a permit. She is beside herself in excitement. What makes you think that she says. The boy is finally learning. That wouldn’t be fair she says, you could hurt someone. I suppose they have to do that to the internet too, zones for big people, and ….
Solomon sighed, later generations were not going to be impressed with the attitude of the current lot, given their indulgence with their ego’s, amen.
Byzantium, I come not from, But from another time and place Whose race was simple, tried and true; As boy I dropped me forth in Illinois. A name with neither love nor grace Was Waukegan, there I came from And not, good friends, Byzantium. And yet in looking back I see From topmost part of…
Just This Side of Byzantium Day Thread — The Avocado
Not much is written about these Holy Women, who pondered the Holy Words, apart from the large number of them, who were deemed heretical, for their simple interpretation of God and the living Spirit. Not captivated by ritual, they were simple in how they devoted themselves to their holy devotion, too simple for the leaders of Christianity in the 13th and 14th century. Margaret Porette comes to mind. While they retreated from life publicly an account of the witch hunt against them, there must be many women of the Spirit, who have had to cloth their faith in all guises. Was their treatment, though harsh it was, just a reminder; how the Spirit from above has had to fight to stay alive in a world that lost it’s way, possibly, amen.
How they are so needed today, these spirited women, in all the different faith groups and beyond. Well, Jesus gave men and women equal standing, and who can disagree with that, amen.
The sand, the time of year, for the turtle neck sweater dear. What she says. He is losing his mind, has been saying things off the cuff, she nods. She is a care worker, he is the cared for, a resident of the Old Persons home, where she works. She has a job to do, she begins to fix the bed, tightening the blankets, fixing the pillows, move she says, he leans forward, she pumps up the pillow, pads it out some, done, he leans in. Turtle Neck Sweater time he says again, he’s loosing his mind she thinks, but he is old, she smiles, Yes it is she answers.
By the tone of voice, he knows that she is being kind, listening to the fading words of an ageing being, Yes he says, it is that time again. The perfume she wears brings back the memories, a time before she existed, he’d go into the detail with her but she has other rooms to clean, and he doesn’t want to hold her up. That perfume, reminds him of old conversations while in the prime of life, an exciting life too. No ailments then, everything functioning. He considers himself blessed for the ability to walk to the bathroom and pee standing up. Stuff you never consider when your young, like those turtle neck sweaters.
The room is his alone, she has moved on, another duty to perform. He’d been watching a program, David Attenbury he thinks was the name, an English posh talker who is passionately interested in saving a particular type of turtle, interesting program. He enjoys programs that keep him interested. Anyway he thought, the mother Turtle lays her eggs, buries them in the sand on this small island and goes back to sea, while she and thousands of other potential mothers, leave their brood to hatch under the sand until the time came, before emerging from the shell, then making it up to the open air, where a fifty yard dash awaits them to the sea, along with an enormous number of hungry birds, waiting to devour them. The odds of any one of them making it to the sea, and the continuation of their journey, 1,000 to one at best. He called the mother turtle, the turtle necked sweater, given the chances of her off spring ever making a life for themselves. She didn’t understand me he sighs, and he didn’t want to steal her time.
Solomon sighed, how nature teaches us of the perils of life and the difficulties we all have to encounter if we are ever to make our mark. What else could he do, but ponder the greater mysteries. A meeting with the divine awaited him and the day was getting closer. So many live locked in their minds, surrounded by all that went wrong, holding on to what he wondered, while so many others took advantage of that same hurt in them. Turtle neck sweater, he smiles, that perfume, as fresh as ever, amen.
laborer’s toil,the master watches,he is old, the weather late, hope we have the time,will we save it all, or will we be too late,time vital,it can’t sit on the ground, the harvest.
So many can be saved,did I do enough,the feeling of the survivor, the memory that will last,
We get reminders, we are asked to help, we who are called. Jesus wasn’t telling grand tales, it was with deed and words, no time to pull the weeds,there will be time eternal for that, the focus on the light, hurry, the day’s are moving fast.
Solomon sighed, the effort we need to put in, huge. Why, the laborers so few,amen. How are you doing at assisting the harvest, it’s not something you can pass to others amen.
Originally posted on Becoming is Superior to Being: (OK, this is not exactly acoustic looking, but…) People, Places and Things When I get a chance, I listen to KPFT’s HAAM Radio Show. HAAM is the acronym for Houston Association of Acoustic Musicians. One of their members is long time friend and supporter of Montgomery Country…
Dave Pierce — Becoming is Superior to Being
If you loved me you’d write me a song. He shakes his head, crazy chick, he says. What’s that, are you giving off again she replies. She throws her eyes at him,the look,well, it’s what I do sometimes look. Well, he sighs. Much older,he calculates the odds,soon he says soon, she is an aspiring singer, that’s how they met.
How about this he says the following evening, pencil hanging from his mouth, same as groucho marx would, and he adds,did I say darling, what she says,what.
At the keyboard, he begins to ramble and half sing, wants to think as well, adhoc…
I can’t be your everything, there is only so much I can do, though i hear your heart calling inside i tremble inside too, the sound of your voice the way you stand, the all the time in the world feeling you give, it’s the dept of your concern it rattles me too, helps me shine…..
Yeah she says, that’s a song all right. I am going out she says, will be back later. what he says, I thought we’d do it together, and later we’d go to a movie…She laughs at him, her smile is like a magnet, he can’t ignore her,doesn’t want to.
I can’t be your everything she sings, then she is out the door. You work better alone..
And I thought we’d share the feeling too of the success I had for you, how do you like it. She is out the door. His window is open, he hears her humming, nice ring to it too…..
writing in rhythm, how many great tunes were written it minutes, exactly, it’s not a science, just let it flow,amen.
paddypicasso 