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Showing posts from May, 2006

Memorial Day

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Never Forget, was the cry; and forget we did. But should anyone be surprised? How many millions have died in battle for causes noble and not so noble. The founding of the American colonies was established as a set of checks and balances. No King George for us, Nah uh! No State religion, Freedom of the press, the right to bear arms. But the right sees us as a Christian Nation and the latest George has God telling him to go to Iraq. Gonzalez is threatening for the very first time to use the Seditious Publication Acts to prosecute members of the media that willfully print leaked information. (Talk about the pot calling the kettle black) Gun laws appear designed to keep violence on the streets and out of the law abiding owner. Dare I say anything more without being accused of not being patriotic? Love America or leave it? Take it up the arse and be thankful for it? Send our soldiers off to battle and erase any evidence of casualties and underfund healthcare for returning vets? Memorial day...
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Woman are beautiful. My best friends have always been woman. You'd swear I was gay or something; not that I have a problem with people that are gay. I really believe that woman embody wisdom and that their place in a patriarchal world stifles their wisdom, their creativity, and sometimes their real beauty. I can talk with and listen better to woman, I am more interested in what most woman have to say, I smile more when in the company of woman. Yeah, its true; I'd like to make love to many of them...but it seems to be based on a desire to love, more than just fuck (although that's cool too!)... INDIGO GIRLS LYRICS"Power Of Two" Now the parking lot is empty everyone's gone someplace i pick you up and in the trunk i've packed a cooler and a 2 day suitcase cause there's a place we like to drive way out in the country live miles out of the city limit we're singing and your hand's upon my knee so we're okay we're fine baby i'm here to st...
A warm breeze blew in the scent of fresh cut grass while the cacophony of birds, automobiles and children beckoned me to join them. A morning shower, the smell of soap and the stroke of a razor; sides, cheeks, down the neck and around the beard. Over the head, sweeping away any trace of hair upon my head, an application of Bay Rum, soothing, blending, into a subtle smell only noticible to those that are close. Loose fitting clothes and steeping barefoot upon the porch, coffee in hand, I ease into the day. A pipe, my Deacon's pipe, extending some eight inches long, filled with a custom blend black cordial, only seemed appropriate. Slightly stimulated by the use of caffeine and nicotine, I reflect on their misuse and their unfair labeling. I retire to my back yard and stretch; gently, gently. I breath a cleansing breath and relax into a horse stance. Feet shoulder width apart, knees slightly bent, I raise my hands, palms inward, pushing outward with palms outward, they return to rest...

Seventeen

The number 17 has been a recurrent number in my life...To date, I have 17 posts on the subject of meditation. Here they are: http://tao1776.blogspot.com/2005/09/ there-is-nothing-more-comforting -than.html http://tao1776.blogspot.com/2005/09/ signs-along-pathway .html http://tao1776.blogspot.com/2005/10/ this-is-site-of-many-hours -of.html http://tao1776.blogspot.com/2005/08/ trust-faith-tao .html http://tao1776.blogspot.com/2005/11/ scarecrows-gun .html http://tao1776.blogspot.com/2005/11/ wonky-tonk .html http://tao1776.blogspot.com/2005/11/ tofu .html http://tao1776.blogspot.com/2006/02/ gnawing-gnawing-gnawing -at-perception.html http://tao1776.blogspot.com/2006/01/ retrospective .html http://tao1776.blogspot.com/2005/12/ intuition .html http://tao1776.blogspot.com/2006/03/ jingle-jangle-jingle .html http://tao1776.blogspot.com/2006/04/ woodpecker -knocked-hole-in-search-of_07.html http://tao1776.blogspot.com/2006/04/ i-am-attracted-to-smiles -and-laughter.html http://tao1776.blogs...
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I suppose that he had once been loved, by someone, but that was hardly evident now. The rain continued down in buckets. While every effort was made to protect the mourner from the weather, my clothing was exceedingly wet and rivulets of water poured into the open ground from all four corners of the grave. The funeral director stood by, as is his duty, making the best of a delicate situation. Words? For whom? I pulled a cheroot from deep within my breast pocket and managed to light it with my trusty Zippo. The smoke dissipated quickly in the wind and I glanced over at the director obviously freezing to the bone. The whole event seemed so outrageous. I pulled out a flask of scotch and hit it hard in enjoyment of the blend of smoke and peat. "O nex qua est they punctum," I yelled! "O versterf waarheen zit zij steek!" "Are you okay, sir" asked my funeral director friend. "I am." "Shall I leave you to be alone to grieve, sir" he asked sheepi...

Wouldn't it be nice......(?)......

......if you could tune in and find some pearls of wisdom? ......find something uplifting? ......enter the Tao? It is getting interesting. I am not being apathetic. I am just realizing my lack of control over the rush of negative events. I look at over 1,000 jobs per week. I suppose that at 51, ( a rather handsome 51, I might add) I could sell my home and relocate. I'm just not built that way. My grandkids are here, my roots, as shallow as they are, are here. So, I worked twelve hours overtime and it added only $100 to my take home pay. I had to borrow $20 to pay my mortgage leaving me with nothing for groceries or gas. In one week they are canceling my house and car insurance. I have a meager amount in a 401K. I am rolling over into a IRA and taking $2000 to bail me out. It will not be here in time. I can't pare down any more than I have. I have the computer because my youngest in in college and it is required. Meanwhile, my oldest son, who has worn me out with his heroin ad...

As a well-spent day brings happy sleep, so life well used brings happy death.

A friend died last Friday. Her battle began several years back when she discovered that she had breast cancer. Although it responded well to treatment, a few years later, cancer was found in her leg. It was rough going. Several times it appeared as if she would win. And then, it was found in other parts of her body. We were not present in her time of battle as she had chosen to distance herself from us. After her life partner had passed, (my mother in law) we were very close and had many good times together. As she withdrew from us and found new friends, we could only feel as if we had done something wrong. We can only speculate. At the wake, we were the "Black Sheep" of the affair. We were listed last in the obituary. I was surprised that we were listed at all. During her battle with cancer, we only saw her once - at the funeral of our niece's baby. I have disdain, more than grief. The hurt to the Lady; to be so shut out. The Lady would have given our friend more of hers...

Don't you be talkin bout Jimi...You can't hear Jimi...

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I tried to think of an analogy that would best describe the music of Jimi Hendrix in the context of his time. When the Beatles sang, "All you need is Love", and the Doors sang "Light my fire", Hendrix came along and played "Purple Haze", "Foxy Lady" and "Hey Joe" among many others. The guitar work exceeded that of his musician peers. Looking at "Little Wing" and "Vodoo Chile", in contrast to what other bands were creating within that same year, showed a style that was way before its time. In 1968, as Christmas approached, I asked my parents for the "Are you Experienced" album. The album pix was a sight to behold. I knew nothing of the music or the band. I was listening to Petula Clark, Herb Alpert, and the Beatles. I couldn't imagine anyone looking as outlandish as the "Experience". On my little record player, I set down the needle and began to listen. On a dark, cold night, as the wind whippe...

What's so wrong about peace, love and understanding?

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http://www.peacetakescourage.com/thisistruth.html

volksbloggin

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http://volksbloggin-in-new-england.blogspot.com