Social Metastases (Tell His Story)

 Been thinking about metastatic cancer. I have a couple, one that lately fractured a femur, and another in my humerus on the same (left) side, which strikes me as funny. Geddit?

But what about social metastases?

Here's one. 

In the 1960s, the United States Supreme Court effectively redefined the Establishment Clause of the First Amendment to remove religious influence from public schools. That's the cancer.

Today, rather than being taught basic skills, elementary school kids are being invited to explore their own pronouns, which they likely can't even spell. That's the metastasis.

This isn't intended as a blanket condemnation of teachers, but rather of the administrative environment in which they're compelled to work...and, yes please pay attention to school board elections!

Can you think of other examples?

Sylvia likes being a 'she'. Thinks it makes her scarier.

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Deference

 There are those who might well think

that cancer's a hard fall,

but my life did not just sink

in wind and wave that ruined all.

Yes, it's very hard to breathe 

and harder still to walk,

but I have blessings to receive,

and so I dare not talk

in front of those who stand today

in ruins of a well-loved life,

who saw possessions swept away

with children, husband, wife,

and I'll respect their misery

with no words 'bout poor, poor me.

The Five Minute Friday prompt this week is FLEE.

I really don't know how t'would be,

to pack my lifetime in a truck,

and join the passing throng to flee,

trusting to both God and luck

that there might still be something left

when at last we're bade return 

to that stolid warp and weft 

of what we'd worked so hard to earn.

Is it worth the the sunny days

and the balmy tropic nights

beneath which the soft ocean lays

awash in coruscating lights,

hinting not of cold blank fury

when they become both judge and jury?

Sylvia says that was spoken like a true Pittie, except that she hates getting wet and WILL complain.

The Politics Of Disaster (Tell His Story)

 Another storm due to arrive

on the Gulf Coast's sandy shore,

s chance to keep folks there alive,

but some like politicking more.

Disaster's now a photo-op

and sound bite for a TV ad, and all of that's not gonna stop

'till we realize we've been had

by people who pretend to care 

'bout apple pie, kids, Mom and Dad,

but only are really aware

of the polls that hold the keys

that keep constituents on their knees.

Sylvia doesn't like politicians, and she saw the last group of canvassers off in her own inimitable style.

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Ake Ake Kia Kaha (For Ever, And Be Strong)

 Spent much of last night screaming in pain, from the leg metastases. Can't really walk now.

Barb prayed me to a place of rest, and peace.

When earthly hope is failing

as the devil sings his song,

and in the night you're wailing,

and still the night goes on,

remember to hold as you can

to that tiny dancing spark,

the heartbeat of the Son of Man

beating with you in the dark,

and make the effort to recall

through all the pain and tears

that for you He faced it all,

and He knows your fears,

and that you'll never be alone 

until He comes to take you home.

The Five Minute Friday prompt this week is TWO.

I guess you might expect two sonnets

this week, for the price of one,

so I am right here and on it,

so let us go and have some fun

with words like Frogularity

(which term, yes, I did invent)

to bring a certain kind of clarity

to my weird writing intent,

and while the word has not caught on

beyond my dedicated circle,

its potential is yet far from gone

(though it's moving like a turtle)

 to bring me fame, riches, renown,

and make me king of my small town.

Three minutes of total nonsense, but I had fun.

Music for Barb, from the Dropkick Murphys, with Forever 

Sylvia thinks I need more calcium, via ice cream, so the bones don't fracture. She'll even share hers.

Wait, that's not Sylvia! These are the Chihuahuas' stuffed animal friends. Every afternoon they swipe the TV and VCR remotes, and hide them with Monkey (wearing my sunglasses), Frog (under my cap), and Kitty Cat (with my gloves). Ladron taught them the game; they expanded on it.

With Sylvia's help.

Shelter From The Storm (Tell His Story)

 For those imperiled by the storm

that came from distant seas,

let not anguish be their norm,

let them find God's peace

coming from across this land,

from an unknown neighbour's care

to extend a helping hand

across the distant air.

Give as only you can give,

give from what you need yourself.

Do not let the Christ's face live 

in a frame upon a shelf,

but in your eyes let others see

His love as it is meant to be.

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Not Going Gentle

 

 

It's been a really hard week, and I can only express it through analogy.

From the King I took my shilling,

and I am on my Oerlikon.

I'm in the fight and I am willing,

and the Carley floats are gone

as water laps across the deck;

right bugger has this night become 

on this listing burning wreck,

but load another drum

and engage with gritted teeth

the savage enemy,

wondering what might lie beneath

the waves that roil once-peaceful sea.

If needs must I will sell life dear,

but someone GET ME OUT OF HERE!

The Five Minute Friday prompt this week is ADVANTAGE.

They say it's advantageous

to claim an attitude 

that marks one as courageous,

but I think it's just rude

to beat the drum, one's own behalf,

a real one-man parade.

It kinda sorta makes me laugh,

'cause that ain't how life is made.

Climb high above humility,

thinking you have it all,

and soon you'll fall from Eden's tree

and God will break your fall

with the cushion of His hand,

and some stern words of reprimand.

Just over four minutes.

And, by the way, Peanut's celebrity grows, courtesy Woman's World

If you go to the article, you also get to see a current picture of me. Don't say I didn't warn you.

Sylvia would get me out of this, if she but could.

Celebrity (Tell His Story)

 Almost went to meet Jesus today, but He rescheduled. Feeling pretty rough, so over to Peanut, courtesy of an article in Women's World.

And you even get to see a picture of Belle, and me.

Sylvia is too cool for mass media 

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