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Saturday, December 22, 2012

The Real St.Nick (link)

http://www.theblaze.com/stories/merry-christmas-from-theblaze-magazine-the-real-story-of-st-nick/


He didn't own any reindeer, he never drove a sleigh. He didn't wear red and white and he never came down the chimney. He was just a really GOOD guy, a bishop and a saint- who tried his best to help people.

This is what our society needs. More genuinely GOOD people who will fight for what's right. A tiding for the coming year.

It's worth the read.
Amen.

Friday, December 21, 2012

Apocalypse


If today was the End of the World;
(And it's not)
I'd have a good belly laugh
And smoke lots of pot.
Alas it seems
Too illegal to dream
But I'll keep going as I am
Forward (always forward!)
Like it or not.

Thursday, December 6, 2012

Temptation

The Devil draws a line in the sand
Then he claps a good noise
Prances and lands
"Where do you stand?
Where do you stand?"
He asks and he glistens
A big toothy smile
Leans in big ears to listen.
But he doesn't wait for
Me to respond.
"You are taking too long.
You are taking too long!"
So with soft shallow hands
And long taloused nails
He pulls out a cake
Moist, delicate and chocolate to take.
"Come with me, come with me!
Things will be better
You will see, you will see!"
I stop and you look
Notice the line covered in gook
And I hear in the background
A Billion lungs screaming.

"To Hell with That!"
I was quite literal and spat
And I pulled out my
Magnum revolver.
I put one in his head
Shot him down dead
And put another where
His heart should have been.
There was silence for a bit
As the Billion lungs quit
And the cake fell apart
On the landing.

Then all of those eyes
Became my demise
As they looked at me
And they stared.
"I don't know what you all are looking at!
You ate from the cake
And that is that."
They gave in to temptation
From those soft silly hands
And for an eternity they did wonder
Where do they stand.
Where do they stand.

Sunday, December 2, 2012

The Women of Winnemucca

The Women of Winnemucca
Can not be called any less
For their hardworking demeanor
Thick skin makes them leaner
And their hands
Are made of wood knots.

If you'd ever met
A Woman of Winnemucca
You'd know it right away.
Straight to the point
An obsidian tip
Right on target; hell bent.

Because they know
The struggles of life
And no longer cry
For they know what it takes
To bend and to pry

And their children may hate them
May curse them or praise them
But they raised them up- irregardless
They know that in the dessert
You either live or you die
You either grow up or you cry
And for that you always live
As a child.

But if you learn from their lessons
These Basque looking angels
Or Paiute Sages of the Desert
Will show you a way
That is filled with love and with praise
And the rain will wash away
All the sand and the dirt
And let blossom
The most beautiful flower.