Bonhomme Richard

Do you see the face in the clouds, top centre?

Sometimes it feels like the beginning of my end.

Feelings lie.

It's not even the end of the beginning.

It's been bad and getting worse,

can't walk across the bloody room

without breath rasping as a curse

that paints a picture of my doom,

and nothing's helping anymore,

not cheap cigars nor beer nor wines,

and I see a swinging door

leading to my end of times.

But I remember what I was,

though I wasn't worth a lot.

I only mention this because

what I was is what I've got,

and in the fading of the light,

I've not yet begun to fight.

The Five Minute Friday prompt this week is PERSIST. Appropriate.

They ask me why do I persist,

and not give up and die?

I'll tell you, mate, if you insist:

love's the reason why.

I love all aspects of my life,

the fabric of my days,

my dogs, the cat, and my dear wife,

and, of course, the God I praise

by giving every day my all,

and giving every job my best.

Sometimes what I can do is small,

but I force myself to pass the test

to care more than I can afford

as a present to the Lord.

Four minutes fifteen. That'll do

Music from Sister Hazel (opening in a new window) with All For You.

Sylvia approves.

When Your Platform Finds You

I don't like to recycle stuff, but what follows is an exception, a comment I wrote for a post written by Dan Balow for the Steve Laube Agency blog, Personal vs. Professional Social Media.

My personal and professional lives are, of necessity, thoroughly blended; my life has become my product.

Not something I wanted; all I really aimed at was being a Paperback Writer, but it seemed that God had other plans. No one in his right mind would choose an extended bout with pancreatic cancer, but I accept it without demur, because to do otherwise would be to question God’s mercy and goodness. “Not my will, but Thine” is what it comes down to, but it can be really hard to do.

And from that acceptance arises a calling and ministry, that life goes on and that there is a way to fully live, even when the experience becomes crushingly hopeless (like, say, right now, as I write this).

Though living in public, so to speak, can attract oddballs, I haven’t run across any, ’cause I can pretty much out-weird anyone.

It’s not something to despise,

but can be hard to understand,

and I wish that it were otherwise,

but my life has become my brand,

days passed to be an example

of how to reinvent a life

when it has been sorely trampled

and rearranged by cancer’s knife,

and it’s a legend I must live,

a full-time job and ministry

in which I am compelled to give

all the very best of me,

optimistic, laughing, light,

and more become that which I write.

The Five Minute Friday prompt this week is HAVE. Have I got what it takes? Guess we'll see.

They say you've got to have a platform,

all the agents say it's true.

Some are made and some are born,

and sometimes platform will find you

if you keep unfettered mind,

and heart open to God's breeze,

and beyond that don't be blind

to some time spent on your knees

asking for the Lord's direction

(getting that is really nice),

and when you get it, no reflection!,

just take that Divine advice

and let your newly burnished soul

achieve your brightest platform goal.

Four and a half minutes, with Strawberry the Mastiff barking in my ear.

Music (opening in a new window) from the score to Kenneth Brannagh's Henry V by Patrick Doyle, Non Nobis, Domine.

Sylvia thinks another kind of brand may be applied shortly, if I'm slow with the ice cream. 

High Times

Things are really kind of rough, which is why I'm writing this in the middle of the night while listening to Joyce Meyer. Pain and nausea just preclude sleep.

Yes, medical marijuana had been suggested, is legal in my state (so is 'recreational' marijuana), and no, I don't use it.

Why not?

Read on...

Bigfoot arrived at the ball,

wearing a tuxedo,

and there he leaned against the wall,

smoking a torpedo.

Someone told him Cheech and Chong

described the best life to be had,

but it wasn't very long

'fore he got the munchies, really bad.

First the hors d'oeuvres disappeared,

and it wasn't that much later

(just as everyone had feared)

that he tried to eat the waiter,

and thus is learned the reason why

you don't get a mythic creature high.

The Five Minute Friday prompt this week is REALIZE.

Or maybe REAL EYES?

Whatever.

I once knew a stoner dude

who really should never have used,

because his once-sharp attitude

came to be dazed and confused.

He once forgot where he had left

his vital backpack and his bike,

and new-bought gear he had to heft

on his lengthy get-home hike,

only to find said Missing Schwinn

still parked in his living room,

and backpack (with all kept within)

resting in the shadowed gloom

of the closet, dark and cool

of a weed-besotted fool.

Three minutes for a true story, and this was a friend worth having.

Music from Brewer And Shipley (opening in a new tab) with One Toke Over The Line.

Sylvia's high is McDonald's ice cream. Mine, too.

Thy Will

Please, God, let this cup pass from me,

c'mon, let's find another way!

There's got to be a path You see

to let me 'scape that fatal day.

I really do enjoy My time

walking 'round this dusty place.

Would it really be a crime

to extend a little grace

so I can ride back out again,

leave behind this sense of doom,

leave behind the coming pain,

the drama of the Upper Room,

and with my buds have some more fun?

But, yeah, OK, Thy will be done.

The Five Minute Friday prompt this week is OWN. Can I own it?

Just how did the Lord God own

that His Son would have to die

on the Cross, feeling alone

without a chance to say Goodbye?

What could have been worth so much

for that awful sacrifice?

What on Earth had moved Him such

that He turned His heart to ice?

Do you know it, can you speak

to the reason for Christ's death?

Or are you afraid to seek

the answer; it may steal your breath?

But we must face it, for it's true:

the Cross bore Christ for me and you.

Three minutes and just under fifty seconds.

Music from Jesus Christ Superstar (opening in a new window), Could We Start Again, Please?

 Sylvia understands.