Wounded in life, I seek to staunch the wounds of others . . . . --xoj

"Jack Spratt’s two centavo Guide to Redemption”
©2012 by Jack Spratt All Rights Reserved

God's tapestry, all creation, my greatest value an attempt to live/love for: in gratitude, mercy, forgiveness, regardless of Age, Race, Creed, Gender, Gender Proclivities, or Generosity . . . seeking to make redemtion salvation & resurrection potential in all unique, precious, individual lives, human, plant, animal, world. . . .through words & images - Jack Spratt ... KISS

Thursday, June 28, 2012


120628 23:39

preacher teacher man wannabe not me standing naked Times Square Monday mourned the new epoch begun panhandling the attention of the penniless their unlived lives of no interest this bridge me between then now what's to come I lust for their souls or soles to clean no miracle worker healer just a teacher to tell and show summer vacation free the what why & how a sad bad shoe shine boy all black with polish am i barefoot

Great Tradition this preaching upon soap boxes in other times places no birds adoringly resting upon my shoulder neither either ligature scars no stigmata naked no diapers required the humiliation intended after all what's da madder penis or vagina no prissy popes but poets muscular for me Willy Willie Billy Shakes Rumi Walt of the Green Leaves of Grass

Too be certain confident of my conviction should I live having enough heart beats left or The Lunatic Fringe Fundamentalist “Christian/Islamist” I ask nicely & politely WTF is the difference?if They don't blow out my brains first.

Should I could I can I maybe may can not or merely won't take or be taken by another lover wife or whatever maybe a toy boy love is not penetration but mere friendship 'Where two or more are gathered . . : Will the I AM be there! M&m or St. Teresa of Avila & St. John of the Cross or St. Francis & St. Clair never conjoined except in chaste friendship Don' know bout Heloise & Abelard never read their book mother recommended too busy with Kafka

Then there's M&M, me & m. Whatever. Now. Wow M@W sight gag. Should we never see each other again the lover she made me will give all the love there is within unconditionally As she did me A pean encomium eulogy laudation paean panegyric in loyalty loving one and all no exceptions allowed but how or why would I allow, in a nation with armament enough weapons for every man woman child dog and cat times seven times sever times eleven is this my ideation of Heaven or Carlton Heston's now moldering cold dead hand (s)? He was an actor like Rush Limbaugh a paid performer for those whose main purpose in life is to affirm the right to be selfish Where is William Buckley when needed lamentably dead to correct the course to perdition. I was told by W. read upside down she told me so and I trust her emphatically.

Sufi mythic legend the 'devil' was told by God “Be gone forever never to return in My sight.” The 'devil' so loved God loving as I do M we'd together or light years apart in death or life be light years together dancing from black holes to nova stars. Sticks & Stones may kill me but names now without apology seem interchangeable Who loves whom what why when how little much what is endless compared to Be Here Now? I am a man who loves men and while I do I long not for them sexually my Brothers, this Band of Brothers WE become noble not ignoble in denial for I so love Jesus and God equally too. Even more than life whatever it is before during afterward

I am not that little boy who upon finding the dead baby pigeons rictus of hunger risen heavenward collectively the covey of them I did not consciously pray then as I do now for me for us for the 'devil' Whomever but the question why is still unanswered. Maybe when face-to-face or never I must in free will decide the fate of love manifest incarnate merely in me whatever the cost leaving behind forgiveness the ignorance of Lunatic Fundamentalist of any & all stripes & sorts & conditions Lest I kill instead of Love and by Loving make love possible to one and all understood.

Gape this Mr. Inc.:

A cynic is a man who knows the price of everything but the value of nothing.” --Oscar Wilde

. . . I seemingly adore words singly coupled or more They impact my soul and sole the like of which I've never know before M set me free to soar amongst the stars or merely the sun my wings waxed not melted yet But then I started outlining the experience conscious or dream having the Jerusalem Cross branded upon my lips even now tingling . . . yet like God I suspect knowing all religions I know none adequate the task to define what is love possible in an insane world?

M says tolerance is possible while I lunge and lurch the restraints my drown blinded loving adoration of Her covertly singing screaming silently but what of the intolerant bigotry injustice? Those sent to war spindled and mutilated on both sides a meaningless loss a competition a pissing match of those who never fought and profit the most . . . Harry said 'if you can't stand the heat get out of the kitchen' Maybe maybe not perhaps we do all the wrong things for reasons we will never understand here now or latter on should the be another place a time for us I know Buddha said My sense at least I don't want to do it over again, not again and again, I seek the peace of nothingness
We all seemingly are the body hands arms embracing one another each God equal in mercy anticipated at life's end Living incarnation imperfect yet potential nearly so empathy empathic as JC implied I infer convicted Love Your “Enemy” knowing his/her pain equal if not greater then ours But the I must at times speak of real flesh & blood matters be not so heavenly minded and no earthly good for such time remnant not rapture but ruptured It is really all about you then US then when gathered WE . . . no end in sight.
Sometime I'll start talking about Solomon justice and choices inspired by the unnameable many names of what is good; The Thou--The Who never the IT. Maybe maybe not Who am I but a buffoon like those I decry no one ever living spoke exclusively for God they all did in their way and time growing where planted @ that this little boy will always be a genius audience for all of it passively squatting on the sidelines merely enraptured by the love notes I praise Blest either way never either/or but and/both . . . wondering in closing no longer wandering the desert tagged the sins of all mankind a goat a sheep a lion combined? Or a Phoenix or snake like lizard. God speaks to and though all of us occasionally let us in living or death be communion

words like magma not Maya irrupting


120628 07:39 scepter

To myself I am a very strange man nearly hermaphroditic about to lose my favorite toy by death maybe first but worst ED sooner Though not so grand as John Homes It's all I got honey bunny scepter sword or stylus adoringly known as The Joy Stick not by me of course but by those kids who fly drones killing indescribably indiscriminate but the IED IUD WHATEVER nuclear or hand grenade or fire cracker I don't never did like noise save for Mozart and nose flutes Andean

Too sad too bad dad was hung like a donkey horse or mule whatever our times together were asexually intimate in the broad ranging our discourse He said his last erection was at seventy-two meaning I've maybe a few months at best the clock ticking my last chance gasp crape hung bunting no more f—king but at best better ecstatic is not to enter the neither regions though lovely momentarily gratifying the consequences are deadly STD or a child for whom responsibility even though not around is forever at least for me it was real or imagined

However there is a young woman who upon occasion visits her mother a nurse assistant whose last name I never noticed The first time I said I'll take there hold my hand make my day & SHE DID! Ava Gardner in anything a circus tent young nubile lubricious a tsunami so more so in her last film or any film electrocuting dissolving evaporating me disappearing melted like a jelly fish stranded in the sun just like M does unaccustomed to the fervor my ardor savage ferocious invasive intrusive knowing for me to make love with not to her would may be that last moment a terminal experience like the last supper then hung out to dry I suspect from her promiscuity that the several I've been more than attracted to in lust imagined love consumed consummated especially that first young woman mentioned making my day did imply and/or inferred or magically wishful thinking do not go there bro she's deadly a Fargo Shredder

I adored Weird Science it covered a multitude of potentials political as well a sexual and then there is the short piece of erotica some would reflexively categorize as merely pornographic regarding this once-upon-a-time little boy discovering the business parts of a milking machine eventually become dominated and sucked into oblivion as they coin the phrase for Argentina 'disappeared' as in never heard of never been or what the life of a PTSD might must feel upon return parts missing mind addled simply grief aggrieved. Sometimes I think I could heal Charles Mason I'd ignore his plea for attention or love him into submission informing him his potential divinity inherent errant

What's your point Jackie? First I noticed that between my mother and her mother being the first male in awhile there was an inappropriate rending of me broken pulled apart limb from limb Then when finally leaving the nest mother provided she such as it was a long term in Hell Seemed bereft as though losing a lover Oh Well Swell Moving along healing is a process not a goal not magical like the promise proffered by Pharmaceuticals or drugs of any kind all with potentially fatal side affects or merely aspirin supercharged patented and resold the Final Fatal Solution for profit what is fractions of a penny for a billion times their cost

I begrudge no one wealth but too much is too much for them Never enough It is addiction pure and simple the myth of me is not Jack Spratt but Jack The Giant Killer somewhat akin to Jack & The Bean Stalk everything depends on definitions and mutuality. Democracy in pure form is arduous but of Consensus not impossible but nearly so our only hope across all boarders I am no life saver not the kind in a roll motley but I know that in order to save someone or whole lot of us you must betimes knock them out lest like the scorpion & toad both drown the effort pointless waste of good lives My point?

My wealth is not the soon to be forever limp scepter but the bull shit meter a stylus more adored and celebrated than learning to read or my first erection/orgasm with mom's soiled panties or even at twelve having kissing lessons with my older women by four years in her white nylon slip caressing her breasts at her request a snarky female of equivalent age a competitor economically for employment betrayed us and mom went not ballistic but nuclear . . .
. . . I even like playing with words better than with my stylus:)
if Google doesn't throw me out like Care2 did then all bets are off forewarned is forearmed inspection or not I've only begun Creativity is a place I once feared never being able to return from but now oh boy wow it is better than anything save M & God . . . another chapter in the m&m chronicles. I used to say that what Jesus did tearfully for Lazarus was a party trick compared to what He's done for me but now know what M has done for and to me is better I want for you, all of you, to be so Blest Best 

more notes on the photographer and capture:

 Michael Jackson b&w Beach Pix
http://www.alternatephotography.co.uk/gallery.html

    “Every working day is spent experimenting, fiddling, mixing chemicals and going for something new,” said Michael Jackson
   
    For the past 5 years, Jackson has been creating a body of work titled ‘Other Small Worlds’ based on visiting and recording a single beach in South Wales – Poppit Sands. “My work on Poppit Sands beach has changed over the years. I find that I am seeing things now that eluded me before and what was of interest to me 4 years ago is no longer of much interest to me now. I suppose that I am trying to find something new with each visit – and that rarely happens.”

    Using a 1970’s camera, lens and particular times of day he explains his motivation as “Just an amazing feeling, to be there and to look down and see tiny worlds appear before my eyes. Then to hear the whirr of the shutter and to know that I may have captured it forever. It is a very personal and intimate experience.”

    His work has been acclaimed internationally and published in numerous magazines throughout the UK, the USA and Australia. The Poppit Sands/Other Small Worlds series has won three finalist places in the Hasselblad Masters Award (2008, 2009 & 2010) and is now in its sixth year. Jackson is based in Wales.

. . . no prisoners taken no harm save theft his genius I realize only in this moment how much I love to find visual love notes from God as he does . . . i need not ass kiss request permission but merely penetrate the position proposition proffered
to end I am equally reverent to my irreverence. Thank you Michael & Google this opportunity otherwise not found

I'm back Johnny the Lunatic for love


120628 23:39

preacher teacher man wannabe not me standing naked Times Square Monday mourned the new epoch begun panhandling the attention of the penniless their unlived lives of no interest this bridge me between then now what's to come I lust for their souls or soles to clean no miracle worker healer just a teacher to tell and show summer vacation free the what why & how
a sad bad shoe shine boy all black with polish am i barefoot

Great Tradition this preaching upon soap boxes in other times places no birds adoringly resting upon my shoulder neither either ligature scars no stigmata naked no diapers required the humiliation intended after all what's da madder penis or vagina no prissy popes but poets muscular for me Willy Willie Billy Shakes Rumi Walt of the Green Leaves of Grass

Too be certain confident of my conviction should I live having enough heart beats left or The Lunatic Fringe Fundamentalist “Christian/Islamist” I ask nicely & politely WTF is the difference?if They don't blow out my brains first.

Should I could I can I maybe may can not or merely won't take or be taken by another lover wife or whatever maybe a toy boy love is not penetration but mere friendship 'Where two or more are gathered . . : Will the I AM be there! M&m or St. Teresa of Avila & St. John of the Cross or St. Francis & St. Clair never conjoined except in chaste friendship Don' know bout Heloise & Abelard never read their book mother recommended too busy with Kafka

Then there's M&M, me & m. Whatever. Now. Wow M@W sight gag. Should we never see each other again the lover she made me will give all the love there is within unconditionally As she did me A pean encomium eulogy laudation paean panegyric in loyalty loving one and all no exceptions allowed but how or why would I allow, in a nation with armament enough weapons for every man woman child dog and cat times seven times sever times eleven is this my ideation of Heaven or Carlton Heston's now moldering cold dead hand (s)? He was an actor like Rush Limbaugh a paid performer for those whose main purpose in life is to affirm the right to be selfish Where is William Buckley when needed lamentably dead to correct the course to perdition. I was told by W. read upside down she told me so and I trust her emphatically.

Sufi mythic legend the 'devil' was told by God “Be gone forever never to return in My sight.” The 'devil' so loved God loving as I do M we'd together or light years apart in death or life be light years together dancing from black holes to nova stars. Sticks & Stones may kill me but names now without apology seem interchangeable Who loves whom what why when how little much what is endless compared to Be Here Now? I am a man who loves men and while I do I long not for them sexually my Brothers, this Band of Brothers WE become noble not ignoble in denial for I so love Jesus and God equally too. Even more than life whatever it is before during afterward

I am not that little boy who upon finding the dead baby pigeons rictus of hunger risen heavenward collectively the covey of them I did not consciously pray then as I do now for me for us for the 'devil' Whomever but the question why is still unanswered. Maybe when face-to-face or never I must in free will decide the fate of love manifest incarnate merely in me whatever the cost leaving behind forgiveness the ignorance of Lunatic Fundamentalist of any & all stripes & sorts & conditions Lest I kill instead of Love and by Loving make love possible to one and all understood.

Gape this Mr. Inc.:

A cynic is a man who knows the price of everything but the value of nothing.” --Oscar Wilde

. . . I seemingly adore words singly coupled or more They impact my soul and sole the like of which I've never know before M set me free to soar amongst the stars or merely the sun my wings waxed not melted yet But then I started outlining the experience conscious or dream having the Jerusalem Cross branded upon my lips even now tingling . . . yet like God I suspect knowing all religions I know none adequate the task to define what is love possible in an insane world?

M says tolerance is possible while I lunge and lurch the restraints my drown blinded loving adoration of Her covertly singing screaming silently but what of the intolerant bigotry injustice? Those sent to war spindled and mutilated on both sides a meaningless loss a competition a pissing match of those who never fought and profit the most . . . Harry said 'if you can't stand the heat get out of the kitchen' Maybe maybe not perhaps we do all the wrong things for reasons we will never understand here now or latter on should the be another place a time for us I know Buddha said My sense at least I don't want to do it over again, not again and again, I seek the peace of nothingness
We all seemingly are the body hands arms embracing one another each God equal in mercy anticipated at life's end Living incarnation imperfect yet potential nearly so empathy empathic as JC implied I infer convicted Love Your “Enemy” knowing his/her pain equal if not greater then ours But the I must at times speak of real flesh & blood matters be not so heavenly minded and no earthly good for such time remnant not rapture but ruptured It is really all about you then US then when gathered WE . . . no end in sight.
Sometime I'll start talking about Solomon justice and choices inspired by the unnameable many names of what is good; The Thou--The Who never the IT. Maybe maybe not Who am I but a buffoon like those I decry no one ever living spoke exclusively for God they all did in their way and time growing where planted @ that this little boy will always be a genius audience for all of it passively squatting on the sidelines merely enraptured by the love notes I praise Blest either way never either/or but and/both . . . wondering in closing no longer wandering the desert tagged the sins of all mankind a goat a sheep a lion combined? Or a Phoenix or snake like lizard. God speaks to and though all of us occasionally let us in living or death be communion

                                                       words like magma not Maya irrupting