120926 0440 --Ayn Rand

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--Ayn Rand
"Do not let your fire go out, spark by irreplaceable spark in the hopeless swaps of the not-quite, the not-yet, and the not-at-all. Do not let the hero in your soul perish in the lonely frustration for the life you deserved and have never been able to reach. The world you desire can be won. It exists . . it is real . . it is possible . . it's yours." --Atlas Shrugged

--Katharine Hepburn
"Love has nothing to do with what you are expecting to get - only with what you are expecting to give - which is everything."

Of the two, I prefer the latter to the former for President.

Everything material thing in life has a bias. Wood, for example, depending on the type of tree, has a distinct grain or bias; easily identifiable. Were we to speak in terms of "The Tree of Life," I think it appropriate to speak not of a single tree but all of them since trees are principal agents in clearing the atmosphere and water filtration.

Material such as steel has a different grain than aluminum which is principally flaky. And of plastic only God knows what's in that. Chemicals controlling the molecular structure? Speaking for myself I prefer glass having no carcinogenic potentials. Where I buy groceries poor people go and they advise me to avoid cans and plastic preferring glass as well as I now do.

I live on sub poverty Social Security, my inheritance lost in the recent economic downturn while considerable and excluding the million or so given to my half-brother should have been $l.25 million dollars. I appreciate and apprehend the value of poverty since amongst the poor we share everything and no one goes with out.

I rest my case.

© 2012 by Jack Spratt - All Rights Reserved

God, more real than you or i are

God, more real than you or i are

120925 22:19 ah ha!

I'd hate to die wondering and now I can die in peace finally recognizing that we, you and me; all of us are unwanted burdens to, resulting from, our parent's pleasure. 

Maybe: byproducts?

Accidents! Yes!

Of course you and I are unwanted; never thought of in the moments of mating like rabbits. That's what mothers are for to take of the mess for the next so many years. In some cases forever at least until they die leaving the child remaining at age 12 grown old at 70 still mentally challenged and incapable of taking care of themselves . . . no shame in that. And. Yes. Children we are our brother's keepers.

Yes. Life is divine but not particular to you or me but all life in general. Love & God are funny that way. Sometimes God says; "take notes" and gives me entire poems/prayers or sentences and paragraphs and once a complete short story. Seldom, but it has happened more than once . . . I know . . . I know you're thinking I'm nuts or at best schizophrenic but I'm too old. It would have happened in my middle age not just before I'm gonna die. 

In for a penny, in for a pound: British Sterling. 
Do you get my point? 
We were children when first we made love and that was because she didn't want to go to the movies watching actors pretend. 

As indicated I was gaga over her and still am: The Bride-of-my-Youth. It wasn't her fault it was ours, I was complicit and though I did run away I came back. Actually we renewed our vows three times over and the last time was magnificent! 

All the omens, portents and signs. Lighting, Rain like a Race Horse before the race; then a rainbow I'll never forget and the sun, "God's Eye" winking between the black under bellied clouds.

Soon I'll meet St. Joseph again and we'll talk about it all; the whole deal; enquiring minds, mine, wants to know. EVERYTHING!

I'm not just the gazing globe I am the chrome trailer hitch. Dense. Blind. Deaf, dumb and stupid. 

Okay.

It's okay we'll be fine here or wherever God wants us next; we've worn out this planet with overpopulation and it is time to move on. 

M said it all, "In my time you got married. You'd made you bed now lay in it forever until you die." From which and other clues I know she remains married to OB & Nazoni. As for me, though divorced we'll meet in heaven and carry on or something like that.

With just one little problem, I'm married to God. . . . or something like that.

Sweet baby Jesus flying a drone bombing mushrooms in Tokyo. I was never alone. You were with me?!

Wilco over and out I'll wait until you take me home bro. If you have yourself & God who else do you really need? Annie? And/or Koko!

120926 02:22 Part II

Myth and poetry serve a purpose. It is to express and detail things otherwise impossible to believe. 

In infancy we are cynical, then become skeptical. Once fully mature, as I am now (being male it takes much longer than females and most men never make IT.) The sequence in The Creation Myth was reversed because men wanted to take all the credit then enslaving women to them by guilt & shame. 

First created, metaphorically was Lilith/Eve something like what we called the skull 'Lucy' from whom, by virgin birth, was conceived and created 'Adam' the first male. It is at this point that I was formerly confused. Where was God? Was God the tree? The snake or The Apple?? 

Given M's allergy to tomatoes I think it was a tomato, which she calls "Deadly Night Shade." Which, I may be very incorrect on this, some call it a 'fruit' and others call it a 'vegetable.' For convenience sake let us think in terms of God being a Shapeshifter http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Shapeshifting 

"Every poem can be considered in two ways--as what the poet has to say, and as a thing which he makes." -- C. S. Lewis

I remain nameless. God has yet to reveal my 'God-Given-Name' to me. My role is obviously subordinate to M since I love her to the extent I loved Susan; unreasonably and putting up with her intransigent silence. When I told her I wanted a divorce it was shameful since I was then dependent upon the agency of another woman. Typical male: Standard Operational Procedure: SOP find a newer or better model and leave. I did, without rationalization, wait until seven years or so after the internment scene: me hysterical and she silent standing with Nancy across the open grave.

Approximately eighteen months into our relationship. We were having lunch at The Village Inn, the one closest to our gym. I distinctly remember becoming gelatinous when M suggested that Susan was 'evil.' Seated at a semi-private both I nearly fell crying to the floor. I have never been 'suggestible' to men but women have always poised a threat to me. I had fended off several, not many, suggestions that I have sex with women. And one in particular had been a "Groupie" of Lee Romero's. Apparently she liked "star" photographers. I denied her going on to deny the promised potential in being "a star photographer" when my son was diagnosed with Leukemia. Recall, please, that my daughters birth, witnessed by me, it was obvious she would not, could not survive. The recall I had as a charity photographed for a hospital in Rhode Island a caesarian section birth.
I can be both Fire & Ice with a camera in hand and am so as I write this.

My intentions and motives in writing have now become obvious to me. M suggested in her acrylic way that I could 'heal.' At a time not too long ago I asked what she meant. She replied; 'you will.'
In frustration I "doubled-down" on keeping my journal, eventually publishing in hopes that others, like myself, could find healing without drugs or professional help. 

Never underestimate your 'enemy' think instead that the adversary, is like or possibly, superior in stealth and cunning. I mention this because I have an arbitrary limit learned from writing a photography column for The Providence Journal. Add. That your attention to anything written has the span of a fruit fly's attention.

My 'healing' is a process not a miracle. It takes grit, dedication and collaboration. I know, if you read me, you are worth every second of your life to achieve what has been 'given' to me. As 'writer or author' I have no idea how well or poorly I accomplish my intentions. Yet. I have a genius for discovering God in others. Add. That the same genius is applied in witnessing God's providence in real life everywhere. The only limit being free will, choice and willingness to address our fears.

Death has no dominion.

© 2012 by Jack Spratt - All Rights Reserved