The Bottle Came Out Again

The bottle came out again

And with it the words

Verses rhymes

Pronouns and verbs

Lyrically set to please the ear

Hips to a rose 

Hops to a beer

Sitting alone until just the time

Dusty yet fresh

Clean clothes on a line

Showing dark light and desire

Every imaginable color of flower

Remembering things and designing new

Nothing rhymes with orange

Yet Blue with Bleu

Cheesy at times and dry to the bone

Smithing them like a sword is honed

Need to get out and put there for all

Build up paragraphs 

Times New Roman wall.

Beatus Saturnalia!

Done is My Choice

Have finally come to my senses. There is no longer a need to fight or be right (or left {behind} ). For it doesn't matter anymore. 

There are times in life when you must say the hell with it. This is that time for me and religion and politics. 

I know what I think to be the right way to go through living. That is all that matters. There is zero way to change other humans or the behavior and thoughts of others. 

There is a certain amount of humanity that wants to have their ludicrous ideology, their power over others and their penchant for destruction and hatred.     

To them I bid adieu. 

There are only so many more sunrises and sunsets. For each of them I wish for fun and joy for me. I no longer care to waste a moment on religious ideology or lack there of or political persuasion or lack there of. There is no point in my life for me to bother with either of these schools of thought (and schools of lack of thought). 

So vote and pray/prey to your hearts content. I am through. Those in power have and will remain in power. Those who wish to tell you they know the mind and voice of some magical sky fairy have and will continue to obtain their followers and both the religious and the political will continue to live off and rape the earth and the people on it for their own benefit. I will no longer have anything to do with that and that includes discussing these vermin. 

Some may say I have given up or given in. I would agree. I have - and I hope that my days remaining, free of caring about the red or the blue or the left or the right or heaven or hell will be filled with joy, with love, with care, for those for whom I wish to care. 

It won't be easy. There will be the temptation to "get into it" with someone. There will be the occasional sign of the cross or a political campaign that will bring back those feelings - the wanting to make a difference. The only difference I plan to make is for me and for mine. 

"They" haven't won - "they" just haven't beat me. 

http://youtu.be/5hMnWBwgFNE

Stripes, seals and a ghost

He sat in the chair looking out the window, rocking and as he rocked he thought that he was in time with the waves crashing on the rocks below. The waves lined up in stripes to the horizon. Each one grew as it came to shore and as it hit with force on the rocks, large ghostly sheets of foam would splatter and rise, as the resting seals would scatter and swim from where they had been sleeping in the sun.

VOPW

As the sun burned his face, he continued on down the dusty, desert road. Where he was headed he had know idea. Where he had been you can only imagine. Years of fighting and years of death had taken their toll.

With each step he took he kicked stones and small clouds of dust rose from his boots, boots that had seen as much blood and anger and violence as he has. The boots were dry leather, scarred like his face, cracked and old, on their last mile.

He didn’t speak a word as he passed the small crowd of people outside the lonely roadside café. He kept his head down and continued on his way. Although he was tired and felt as if he could sleep on his feet or at the very least lay down by the side of the road and fall into a deep sleep, he continued on.

The voices in his head kept telling him that they had been victorious, that they had won, that it was worth the cost and the price that would have been paid if they hadn’t acted. He knew they were wrong. He knew the price he was paying and would pay for the rest of his days, a burden that would wound him again and again. With each day he would relive the past, he would remember what had been done and what he had to do. He would continue to live, but his live would still hell for his mind will continue to be a battlefield.

Thoughts become things...

...to an extent,  yes. Can I manifest a cheeseburger or a million dollars in my bank account simply by thinking? Absolutely not. Will my thinking have an effect on my life? Yes. If I keep my head filled with negative thoughts and emotions I will surely be a negative person. If on the other hand I look for the good and the joy and the fun, then yes, I will probably be a brighter happier person.

If I think I can or I think I can't, I am right. I would buy into this as well. Certainly if I don't think I can accomplish something that is going to set in motion thoughts about not being good enough or being capable enough. While on the other hand if I think that I will try my best and do what I can to accomplish something then I am surely going to have a better outcome.

So despite what Esther and Abraham and The Secret and the rest of the Manifesting/Attraction gurus profess, I can't simply become rich by thinking it. I will not be healthier just by thinking that cancer won't affect me. I won't live in a dream house in a dream land with a dream career just by thinking that I will.

Thoughts become things? To an extent. Thoughts can set us in motion or keep us standing still. That much is indisputable. 

Bookends of the Day.

Supporting and keeping upright the chapters and volumes of our life, these bookends I adore. Last thing or first each has an equal role, each supports half. A search of Google Images for bookends brings up as many as you can imagine.

In looking through the images I came across a Peanuts bookend and could have posted that, as predictable as that seems, so I went with the "pick a number between one and 50" and picked 47. Counting down the page I discovered this Lucite bookend. Just one. Very 70's feel to me.

My bookend is beside me and with me all the time. She supports me and loves me (and she knows me, and still loves me).