Pocket Full of Dynomite

We are context
All these people with chargers around just a passing fancy
This to me set the context and date this
More battery life the call around

It is really strange the way things come to pass
Phones stopped getting smaller when they stopped being phones
Thinner and looks like soon to be translucent

An old story how we fail to know the future
Did not see this coming
Some really good things I fail to see coming

They just appear along my path like this pocket full of dynomite
Thrown into the arena a performer we are
Some in themselves others helped to get into themselves seing this

I sometime wonder what people do but have certain constraints
Integrity is not a burden when rewarded lavishly
And there it is in your hand

It is the singularity some call it
Through the looking glass the logical conclusion of the printed press
In your hand

Some problems seem so easy to solve
Close the pay day loan places
Close the we buy gold places
Close the internet sweepstake places

and?

Your worried about drones spying on you?
The cargo drones gonna take the cargo pilot's job
Not a real problem just we need new jobs
We really have not an idea the future

They never did
My guess the weather gonna get weirder
And some one gonna make that battery last ten days soon

Sunsets?

If we all left like so many dolphin got up built ships and left
Would the other things of life miss us?

This is the kind of question I find on a cold wintery spring morning
Global climate change things are changing not contradicting

We give new names to these storms because the old ones don't work
One hundred year storms never came twice a month far as the old folks say

I can find optimism in any question
I think they would miss the colorful sunsets and turn now and again and think of us
some of them

Nothing is intrinsically wrong those walks on the beach a pollution serenade
And you fell in love in a beautiful smog

Two Weeks

We forget more than we ever know
How could we not and key our happiness survival everything

Things become familiar very fast and change comes quickly
A question lingers but that is true in most cases

Two weeks bring clarity like a bad tooth ache your not gonna change subject
But you travel time things become distant quickly
As they once did familiar

Old Nottingham Wish

"If I should die and leave you here awhile,
Be not like others, sore undone, who keep long vigil by the silent dust.
For my sake turn again to life & smile, nerving thy heart & trembling hand to do that which will comfort other souls than thine;
Complete these dear unfinished tasks of mine, And I, perchance, may there in comfort you."

Mary Lee Hall

"No funeral gloom, my dears, when I am gone,
corpse-gazing, tears, black raiment, graveyard grimness.
Think of me as withdrawn into the dimness,
yours still, you mine.
Remember all the best of our past moments,
and forget the rest;
and so to where I wait, come gently on."

William Allingham

A Week

Thinking that forty two an ideal number of work weeks
Ten weeks seems enough to me
A normal distribution from the mean

If you follow you have a basic understanding of nothing
Mathematics why not a holy roman empire?
They didn't get the concept of zero; all it was

 Was not that hard really day by day one week at a time
Like he said this is my best day; kind of the point

and so will tomorrow be
Time is relative my new week just begun

Homosapien

   "Neanderthals, says Steven Mithen of Reading University, may have spoken a more musical, tonal    language, a mix of cooing and keening, singsong beats, accompanied by gestures. Chip Walter likes to think that in their speech, and early on with their burial practices, they may have been a touch "more softhearted than we are," but we really don't know."


I think certain things sound right thought there was a deeper relationship involved
Two cultures met and stared at each other for a long time to be sure
We had gotten this far by being careful both of us this we know
Tending to run and ask questions later in the face of danger

We did many things similar and there were very few differences
Tending to be one the apparent victor harder made softer in the core 

Of the two groups we look a bit more like one; they entered their heart
There were others and mostly forgotten stories to be recalled

 
 

Process

Rest what you can we got this what we were made for
The store of your energy is more certain than you are aware

Your greatest strength is held in reserve
Not created or destroyed but transformed

Chaos simple fractal imagry
A small world

A long world
More to me than I know

Do things wrong all the time
But I be ok

Three well formed parts and three in need my attention
Six things really that matter to me; only one of them central

Three things that support me to recreate three more
Only one give five purpose

No and Yes

The first answer no she was not there
And yes a day I would survive
A week I will need to cross again the world is not as small

It is a very large place I have a very simple focus
My dristi my preferred gazing point
What brings me balance

I have little need of such a large universe
But a little larger
My dristi my preferred gazing point

What brings me balance?
A question asked no and yes
Feeling found and coveted

My dristi my preferred gazing point
To bring us balance

Frozen Sun

Sometimes things come together like you would never believe
You thought you had great faith and then a streak of blue your heart racing

Life right there to be taken even when mistaken
Test your reality and continue moving with positive momentum

Yes it was all so good that it could have been better
I left this undone and I leave this unknown

Tomorrow is another day and twenty four hours impossibly long to ask a question
I wish I was there now unfrozen in the sun light

Winter spring summer fall

Nottingham 1965

Nottingham Village, Cleveland, Ohio

William F Morgan 

Who then are the people that comprise the Methodist Church?

A Methodist is the postman, the baker, the garbage man, your neighbor, your employer, your fellow-workmen, your closest friend.  Methodists are peoples of all walks of life, and of all races.

There is brotherhood. Christ died for that; He threw his life into the balance on the proposition

 that all mankind was one family in God. He taught that to people, and it

 seemed to them an ideal so dangerous to their supremacy and security that they 

pushed him out of the synagogue and up on a cross. Millions today are betting their lives on white

 supremacy, but what if we are wrong, and what if Jesus was right about brotherhood of all colors.

 What if the Gospel had truth when it says that God made of one blood all the races of men

 that they stand equal before Him and therefore equal before each other? What if our ideas about our own

 superiority are as fictitious as the pretensions of the Pharisees with whom Jesus clashed.

while men gambled at the foot of the cross, revealing the worst side of human nature,

 Christ was staking His life on the best side of human nature. He was putting His life down

 on the proposition that men were better than they knew and were created

 for something infinitely greater than they understood. Jesus believed in human nature.

 To be sure man is desperate sinner, but Jesus believed in human nature so much that

He bowed his head and died in the confidence that men had it in them to walk in the high path

 He had opened, and that His cause could be trusted in their faulty human hands.

How often too we write false thinking into custom, what a tyrant habit can become. 

When people do the same thing long enough it becomes tradition, and we pass it on from father

 to son as an accepted rule of life. Behind us are generations in which men held 

certain notions and followed certain behavior patterns, and walked so long in the same crooked

 paths that they inspired us to walk in those crooked paths, too, until now we have not only

 our own sin to conquer, but the sins of our ancestors as well. Call it heredity, call it race memory,

 call it original sin, call it anything you like it is there. Some one has said that every man

 is an omnibus in which all his ancestors are riding. This is why so many of our notions

 are false out dated and wrong.

The best we can do is try to cultivate patiently that unselfishness of mind and heart 

which we know as imagination. When human relationships break down, that break down always 

implies failure on someones part to put himself in the place of another.

 Thus a student of social affairs says, "The broken link between classes in the modern world

 is a fundamental defect of imagination." This is the weak link,

 ending often in broken link, in homes, in churches, in races, in states. 

The white Gentile is inclined to talk in a condescending way about the Negro problem

 and the Jewish problem. But he has never tried to feel what

 it is like to be regulated to a Jim Crow car in the south, or turned away

 from an apartment house in the north. It is not the Negro or the Jew who is his initial problem.

 His first problem is his own unimaginative self. He will never contribute much

 to the solution of those other problems until he has solved that prior, and more intimate problem. 

An unknown author says:
I sought my soul
but my soul I could not see
I sought my God,
But my God eluded me.
I sought my brother
and I found all three

Jesus stood in our place he calls us to stand in his place. What will you do with this call of Jesus.

Sequester

Your f&@#$ kidding me
Change the way you figure inflation by 1%
go F&%$#@*&^%$#@  yourselves