---
Flowering so close to Lincoln's birthday,
Wild romance and ragged cheeks embrace.
Roses' velvet kissed by rugged hands,
Peaceful sighs submerged in stormy tears.
Two loves, yet one the greater.
Sunday, February 15
Wednesday, February 11
Morning Dusk
-
The nights are longer now. That blaze of glory
I used to see stealing up the grass
And roses is hiding east of the sierra.
Maybe you can catch it when I leave.
Our little friends are later every day.
Like you, they'd rather catch an extra wink
Of sleep before they brave the cat's meow.
It's almost time to flutter out of bed.
The engine's gentle rumbling is my song ---
A giant, snoring beyond the backyard lawn.
1/12/97
The nights are longer now. That blaze of glory
I used to see stealing up the grass
And roses is hiding east of the sierra.
Maybe you can catch it when I leave.
Our little friends are later every day.
Like you, they'd rather catch an extra wink
Of sleep before they brave the cat's meow.
It's almost time to flutter out of bed.
The engine's gentle rumbling is my song ---
A giant, snoring beyond the backyard lawn.
1/12/97
Hanging Out
-
Mosquito eater just flew by.
I see his brother hanging high,
Caught and strangled in a web ---
I do believe he's very dead.
They like to hang out at our door,
Little knowing what's in store!
5/2/96
Mosquito eater just flew by.
I see his brother hanging high,
Caught and strangled in a web ---
I do believe he's very dead.
They like to hang out at our door,
Little knowing what's in store!
5/2/96
Monday, February 9
She Loves Me, She Loves Me
The annual Show How Much You Love Me Day is here again.
Millions will be spent for flowers, candy, boxers and bras.
American tokens of love. Dollars doled in true affection.
And we say 'thank you' with smiles and hugs, kisses and more.
"Greater love hath no man than this: that a man lay down his
life for his friend."
Easier to open my wallet than give my life.
Easier to kiss than die, to smile rather than offer everything,
yet that is what God wants me to do to show my love:
Love others as I love myself. Put them first. Die to self.
Be the servant. Love my enemies. Do good to those
who hate me.
Little wonder Jesus was crucified. Who really wanted
His kind of love?
Millions will be spent for flowers, candy, boxers and bras.
American tokens of love. Dollars doled in true affection.
And we say 'thank you' with smiles and hugs, kisses and more.
"Greater love hath no man than this: that a man lay down his
life for his friend."
Easier to open my wallet than give my life.
Easier to kiss than die, to smile rather than offer everything,
yet that is what God wants me to do to show my love:
Love others as I love myself. Put them first. Die to self.
Be the servant. Love my enemies. Do good to those
who hate me.
Little wonder Jesus was crucified. Who really wanted
His kind of love?
Wednesday, February 4
Osiris
It was only a matter of time before the news broke: The Hubble Telescope has located
a planet in a distant galaxy (only 150 light years away, mind you!) that has elements in
the atmosphere that are necessary for life - carbon and oxygen. Interestingly, this
planet's name is Osiris, the ancient Egyptian god of the dead. That is because this orb
is only 4.3 million miles away from its sun, which it orbits every four days. So hot that
its atmosphere boils, there is no way life 'as we know it' can exist. This rummaging for
a twin earth will continue.
At the same time, the United States 'scientific community' is praising the success of
the Mars' team, Spirit and Opportunity. Finding water on the Red Planet will further
convince them and many others of the life that once inhabited this now forsaken rock.
I'm puzzled at the 'let's find life at any cost' motivator here. Is it the loneliness spawned
from seeing the vast reaches of space and feeling like the odd planet out? Is it a quest
for higher knowledge from a more intelligent race than ourselves? Or could it be a search
for a society that never experienced the cannibalism, war, horror and suffering that is this
world's norm --- proof that we can overcome all that is sinful and rise to heights of
holiness (holiness redefined, of course)?
Or is it just a plot to rape the universe of its oil? More likely, its God.
a planet in a distant galaxy (only 150 light years away, mind you!) that has elements in
the atmosphere that are necessary for life - carbon and oxygen. Interestingly, this
planet's name is Osiris, the ancient Egyptian god of the dead. That is because this orb
is only 4.3 million miles away from its sun, which it orbits every four days. So hot that
its atmosphere boils, there is no way life 'as we know it' can exist. This rummaging for
a twin earth will continue.
At the same time, the United States 'scientific community' is praising the success of
the Mars' team, Spirit and Opportunity. Finding water on the Red Planet will further
convince them and many others of the life that once inhabited this now forsaken rock.
I'm puzzled at the 'let's find life at any cost' motivator here. Is it the loneliness spawned
from seeing the vast reaches of space and feeling like the odd planet out? Is it a quest
for higher knowledge from a more intelligent race than ourselves? Or could it be a search
for a society that never experienced the cannibalism, war, horror and suffering that is this
world's norm --- proof that we can overcome all that is sinful and rise to heights of
holiness (holiness redefined, of course)?
Or is it just a plot to rape the universe of its oil? More likely, its God.
Sunday, February 1
Earthquake Related Paso Robles Press Headlines for Jan 21, 2004
- Paso Roblans show their spirit - The Main Street Association's block party on Saturday was well attended
- Homeless arts programs scramble to relocate after earthquake damages auditorium
- Expert gives historical-assessment and rebuilding advice
- Kahuna's reopens in a new store uptown
- Flamson [Middle School - former high school] gets an "A" for adaptability
- Local banks unite to help with disaster relief effort
- Ali's [old Bank of America building] proposes to change north wall to stucco
- [Atascadero] Skate park finds temporary home
- IRS announces tax relief for county residents
- Downtown will survive
- Bringing life back to Paso - Local service clubs and businesses gather for fundraiser in City Park Saturday
And now you know the 'first' of the stories and get a glimpse at the renewal efforts underway
in war-torn Paso Robles. All very optimistic/pioneer spirit stuff about the enthusiastic plans for
a great revival.
God, too, often orchestrates earthquakes in our lives before giving us a hope of renewal.
Then He miraculously sends healing. The lessons are learned, we grow up a little more,
and He receives another round of applause.
- Homeless arts programs scramble to relocate after earthquake damages auditorium
- Expert gives historical-assessment and rebuilding advice
- Kahuna's reopens in a new store uptown
- Flamson [Middle School - former high school] gets an "A" for adaptability
- Local banks unite to help with disaster relief effort
- Ali's [old Bank of America building] proposes to change north wall to stucco
- [Atascadero] Skate park finds temporary home
- IRS announces tax relief for county residents
- Downtown will survive
- Bringing life back to Paso - Local service clubs and businesses gather for fundraiser in City Park Saturday
And now you know the 'first' of the stories and get a glimpse at the renewal efforts underway
in war-torn Paso Robles. All very optimistic/pioneer spirit stuff about the enthusiastic plans for
a great revival.
God, too, often orchestrates earthquakes in our lives before giving us a hope of renewal.
Then He miraculously sends healing. The lessons are learned, we grow up a little more,
and He receives another round of applause.
Friday, January 30
Most Bloggers
I've noticed that most bloggers (Internet journalizers) at this site
are the much younger generation. The 'me' generation. Or better,
the 'ME!!!!!!!' generation. I don't recommend browsing their thoughts.
They are brash, profane, rude, horrible spellers, hopelessly lost in a world
of reactionary emotions, and willing to spill their guts about the most inane things.
They haven't seen enough beauty around them to be knocked off
their feet by the Beautician. They haven't seen how black they are
under their skin. They haven't learned to shut up and refocus.
Maybe no one is telling them to.
are the much younger generation. The 'me' generation. Or better,
the 'ME!!!!!!!' generation. I don't recommend browsing their thoughts.
They are brash, profane, rude, horrible spellers, hopelessly lost in a world
of reactionary emotions, and willing to spill their guts about the most inane things.
They haven't seen enough beauty around them to be knocked off
their feet by the Beautician. They haven't seen how black they are
under their skin. They haven't learned to shut up and refocus.
Maybe no one is telling them to.
Saturday, January 24
Cnidophobic
Barbara is cnidophobic,
While I myself feel quite azoic.
Angel tends to be aerobic,
And Liz is anything but stoic.
While I myself feel quite azoic.
Angel tends to be aerobic,
And Liz is anything but stoic.
Wednesday, January 21
American Idols
Unceasing amazement grips the audience as tone-deaf soloists
trill, troll and tune their way into the hearts of millions of viewers.
The questions are credulous: "Don't these people have any close
friends? Haven't they been told they suck? Can't they compare
themselves side-by-side to others who can carry a tune?"
And we feel SO BAD for them, but end up laughing along with
millions of others at their self deception and apparent idiosy. We
can't let them stay in that safe little cocoon of blind acceptance.
We have to shoot them while they're wounded and grin while we
do it.
It's the revival of the Roman arena mentality. Killing can be fun.
And me? Well, I can see all of my imperfections, thank you very
much. I'll admit to them all. But don't show me anything I don't
already know about! 'Me' here is the millions. Pride is deep.
Rejection is the unpardonable sin for the masses.
Wonderfully, some of us are shown our self-deception and kiss
the truth and Author of truth. Our deepest sins are revealed and
we run to the forgiving arms of our Heavenly Father. We are,
indeed, tone deaf. In fact, it is a prerequisite for going to the big
city where we can sing to our heart's content.
trill, troll and tune their way into the hearts of millions of viewers.
The questions are credulous: "Don't these people have any close
friends? Haven't they been told they suck? Can't they compare
themselves side-by-side to others who can carry a tune?"
And we feel SO BAD for them, but end up laughing along with
millions of others at their self deception and apparent idiosy. We
can't let them stay in that safe little cocoon of blind acceptance.
We have to shoot them while they're wounded and grin while we
do it.
It's the revival of the Roman arena mentality. Killing can be fun.
And me? Well, I can see all of my imperfections, thank you very
much. I'll admit to them all. But don't show me anything I don't
already know about! 'Me' here is the millions. Pride is deep.
Rejection is the unpardonable sin for the masses.
Wonderfully, some of us are shown our self-deception and kiss
the truth and Author of truth. Our deepest sins are revealed and
we run to the forgiving arms of our Heavenly Father. We are,
indeed, tone deaf. In fact, it is a prerequisite for going to the big
city where we can sing to our heart's content.
Monday, January 19
Winter Haiku
Cold white winter sheets,
Comfortless as unfelt shrouds,
Silence songs of spring.
*********************
I cleaned gutters this morning---birch leafed bogs,
Narrow brown black swamps boarding centipedes
And curious friends. Time to move on, boys.
Comfortless as unfelt shrouds,
Silence songs of spring.
*********************
I cleaned gutters this morning---birch leafed bogs,
Narrow brown black swamps boarding centipedes
And curious friends. Time to move on, boys.
Wednesday, January 14
New Old Stuff
We didn't have to wait long to head to that steakhouse with daughter, Liz. Got out of the place for only $50 for four of us (three of us had steak, lobster and shrimp --- the shrimp, Angel, had whitemeat strips). This after driving to San Leandro at noon to attend a plant meeting and ISO 9001 presentation. The traffic was cruel, of course, but providence provided clear sailing except for a little rain and stop and go just a couple of places.
And for all you kitty lovers:
SAD, BUT TRUE
It's sad, but true
That cats will do
The meanest things you've heard of.
They like to dine
Most anytime
On head and breast of bird, love.
And little mice
Had best think twice
Before they leave their houses.
A kitty's quick
And likes to lick
The guts of little mouses.
So when you hear
A meow, my dear,
Remember, though they're pretty,
Deep down inside
A cat can't hide
That he's a killer kitty.
May 1995
And for all you kitty lovers:
SAD, BUT TRUE
It's sad, but true
That cats will do
The meanest things you've heard of.
They like to dine
Most anytime
On head and breast of bird, love.
And little mice
Had best think twice
Before they leave their houses.
A kitty's quick
And likes to lick
The guts of little mouses.
So when you hear
A meow, my dear,
Remember, though they're pretty,
Deep down inside
A cat can't hide
That he's a killer kitty.
May 1995
Tuesday, January 13
Quarter Century
The first quarter century milestone is passed today as daughter, Elizabeth, celebrates those few and many years. She's wearing a birthday present --- a polyester pink walking suit and enjoying dinner out ("my first real date") with her friend, Gary, instead of eating with her parents at a fancy steakhouse. Oh, well, it's pizza for mom and pop tonight, a lousy pizza from Round Table.
ENCORE
The door must have been open wide,
For in she flew --- fluttering ---
Sputtering --- all regal-eyed
And bushy tailed, her little wings
Raising dust where she alighted ---
I think she was a bit excited!
For an encore she began
To sing (or maybe it was squeak).
As a new and loyal fan
I admired her rosy beak:
Who could fault that happy chirping?
How mundane to call it burping!
1/26/83
WINGS
Growing, growing, growing, gone!
Elizabeth, it won't be long
Before you leave your mom and dad
And try your wings. Oh, we'll be sad
And probably wonder what to do
For just a bit --- a day or two!
God's holy will and ways are best ---
And anyway, we'll need the rest!
6/6/83
ENCORE
The door must have been open wide,
For in she flew --- fluttering ---
Sputtering --- all regal-eyed
And bushy tailed, her little wings
Raising dust where she alighted ---
I think she was a bit excited!
For an encore she began
To sing (or maybe it was squeak).
As a new and loyal fan
I admired her rosy beak:
Who could fault that happy chirping?
How mundane to call it burping!
1/26/83
WINGS
Growing, growing, growing, gone!
Elizabeth, it won't be long
Before you leave your mom and dad
And try your wings. Oh, we'll be sad
And probably wonder what to do
For just a bit --- a day or two!
God's holy will and ways are best ---
And anyway, we'll need the rest!
6/6/83
Saturday, January 10
S.F. Bay Dinner Cruise
Last night's Hornblower cruise left the Berkeley Marina about 7:30 in the evening. It had been raining earlier but now a light mist fogged my hair and glasses. Eleven of us would be joining about 70 others from our San Leandro sister facility for a big city dinner cruise and thrilling one foot swells by Alcatraz Island. A belated, mostly casual holiday party.
Bay water is ominous. The stern's floodlights searched for bloated bodies in the swirling foam. Seagulls stroked above the murk, passing us in the dark as we pointed our 75 foot vessel toward the Bay Bridge. Dividing our time between sitting at round tables inside the second deck and visiting the fore and aft decks, we filled the night with people sounds.
We sailed under the Bay Bridge, around Treasure Island, back under the bridge then west along the Embarcadero and Pier 39 towards the Golden Gate Bridge, which was unlit because of the terror alert status. Guess they would rather have the fully lighted city and Bay Bridge as targets.
San Francisco's skyline sparkled like cheap diamonds. We were out too far to hear the horns honking, the screams of people being beaten and stabbed and robbery gunshots. Everything seemed so peaceful --- so serene --- so wonderfully perfect.
I lived in San Francisco for four months in 1964. I was the proverbial pre-Christian in Vanity Fair. The sights, sounds, smells, and mood of the city were bittersweet attractions. Fledgling flight, fragile at best, ended with failure of funds, failure in love and failure in the crash dummy test. Leaving my heart below Mt. Davidson's cross where I lived for that short time on Evelyn Way, I sometimes think of the best parts of my visit: friends, English shortbread, and learning never to call soil, 'dirt.'
Bay water is ominous. The stern's floodlights searched for bloated bodies in the swirling foam. Seagulls stroked above the murk, passing us in the dark as we pointed our 75 foot vessel toward the Bay Bridge. Dividing our time between sitting at round tables inside the second deck and visiting the fore and aft decks, we filled the night with people sounds.
We sailed under the Bay Bridge, around Treasure Island, back under the bridge then west along the Embarcadero and Pier 39 towards the Golden Gate Bridge, which was unlit because of the terror alert status. Guess they would rather have the fully lighted city and Bay Bridge as targets.
San Francisco's skyline sparkled like cheap diamonds. We were out too far to hear the horns honking, the screams of people being beaten and stabbed and robbery gunshots. Everything seemed so peaceful --- so serene --- so wonderfully perfect.
I lived in San Francisco for four months in 1964. I was the proverbial pre-Christian in Vanity Fair. The sights, sounds, smells, and mood of the city were bittersweet attractions. Fledgling flight, fragile at best, ended with failure of funds, failure in love and failure in the crash dummy test. Leaving my heart below Mt. Davidson's cross where I lived for that short time on Evelyn Way, I sometimes think of the best parts of my visit: friends, English shortbread, and learning never to call soil, 'dirt.'
Monday, January 5
Goodbye
---
Today's memorial service for an 83-year old friend inspires a few questions:
* Will 500 people say goodbye when off I fly? 50? 5?
* Will there be tears both of sorrow and joy?
* Will praise tell the truth or ruin the truth?
* Will people see their need for forgiveness of sins?
* Will God receive the glory?
* Will it be soon?
Life's brevity demands answers to the deepest questions. Who am I? Why am I here? Where am I going?
In my atheist years the answers were seemingly safe --- I am a speck in the universe --- I am here by a random chance gathering of molecules for no particular reason above struggling to exist --- I am going nowhere when I die. Consciousness ceases, and the blip that I once was on the radar screen of life is formless, forever gone and forgotten.
In my God awakened years the answers are real --- I am an eternal being in a sin-infested, dying body --- I am here to give all praise, honor, glory and trust to God who created me and adopted me --- I am going to see Him face to face when this body of death is replaced with a spiritual body and enjoy His presence forever.
God holds the key. His Word is truth. His only begotten, sinless Son paid for sins. God-given faith turns the key. "For God so loved the world that He gave His only-begotten Son, that whoever believes in Him should not perish, but have eternal life." John 3:16
Today's memorial service for an 83-year old friend inspires a few questions:
* Will 500 people say goodbye when off I fly? 50? 5?
* Will there be tears both of sorrow and joy?
* Will praise tell the truth or ruin the truth?
* Will people see their need for forgiveness of sins?
* Will God receive the glory?
* Will it be soon?
Life's brevity demands answers to the deepest questions. Who am I? Why am I here? Where am I going?
In my atheist years the answers were seemingly safe --- I am a speck in the universe --- I am here by a random chance gathering of molecules for no particular reason above struggling to exist --- I am going nowhere when I die. Consciousness ceases, and the blip that I once was on the radar screen of life is formless, forever gone and forgotten.
In my God awakened years the answers are real --- I am an eternal being in a sin-infested, dying body --- I am here to give all praise, honor, glory and trust to God who created me and adopted me --- I am going to see Him face to face when this body of death is replaced with a spiritual body and enjoy His presence forever.
God holds the key. His Word is truth. His only begotten, sinless Son paid for sins. God-given faith turns the key. "For God so loved the world that He gave His only-begotten Son, that whoever believes in Him should not perish, but have eternal life." John 3:16
Thursday, January 1
Purling
---
The orchestra is waiting for the rain
In stony silence --- polished instruments
In tune --- all ready for this season's fame
And fortune out behind the broken fence.
7-26-83
*********************
Today's News
This New Year's day's windy rain is keeping me inside.
Time to cozy up to the silent screen and find a word or two.
Float #26 was Starbuck's first entry. Brother Marty helped flower it.
He and Karen were limousined to waiting parade bleachers this morning.
He won a contest. 45 degrees is too cold for parades in Pasadena.
The orchestra is waiting for the rain
In stony silence --- polished instruments
In tune --- all ready for this season's fame
And fortune out behind the broken fence.
7-26-83
*********************
Today's News
This New Year's day's windy rain is keeping me inside.
Time to cozy up to the silent screen and find a word or two.
Float #26 was Starbuck's first entry. Brother Marty helped flower it.
He and Karen were limousined to waiting parade bleachers this morning.
He won a contest. 45 degrees is too cold for parades in Pasadena.
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