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

Saturday, July 7, 2012


120707 01:07 Wm Feather

"That they may have a little peace, even the best dogs are compelled to snarl occasionally." --William Feather

If I were to site one nexus transformational it would be my integration into the community at large begun in a small swimming pool more like than unalike the Pool at Bethesda. Wherein I am electrocuted by two PhD. and a singular psychic of such considerable gifts that when she speaks, seldom, it would be as if attempting to fellate a canon at Picket's Last Charge receiving grape shot orally not blow away but vaporized.

I doubt she approves what I say or think but combined with the other two I am a milkshake, vinegar and honey; me that is. There is a sure glory to be educated and vital in the final years indifferent to the definitions of others. Of course they are educated and I not.

"One can acquire everything in solitude--except character." --Stendhal

I am superfluous a grain of sand more like a dust mote growing more so smaller by post save in this I would if I could give a reason to live if only for one more minute those who by suicide left the rest of us behind bereft of their why. And for those of us who remain we the PTSD a why to go on.

He who has a why to live can bear almost any how. ” --Friedrich Wilhelm Nietzsche

He, Nietzsche, also fabulously said: "Out of life's school of war: What does not destroy me, makes me stronger."
. . . & I hear the sound of one hand
the Who and Why I live and love the Author of All
& to M for suggesting service @ hospice


© 2012 by Jack Spratt All Rights Reserved

Friday, July 6, 2012



120706 23:02 Henry David Thoreau

He was a nice boy kind and gentle merciful doing miracles at first then preaching parables but they scourged then paraded him though streets of indifference in tattered robe around His waist bloody bearing the cross arm tied across his shoulders to indicate his fate then erected upon the vertical to humiliate further naked He no diaper or panties wore so in the very end his sphincters relaxed urine and feces and blood and all poured.

He was a nice boy but I am not from me flames and asteroids are expelled excreted all orifices in one archetypical dream a stone scraping back gloom inhabited grave we He and me were chained to a barren tree no bark no limbs by our wrists He looked at me terrified his diminutive slender scared body brown eyed broken bruised Semitic broken nose not weeping but horrified

No I am not the Antichrist merely His brother for whom I came having never left to make sure His death not in vain or jest Pray thee our parent is more merciful than I

"It is not a man's duty, as a matter of course, to devote himself to the eradication of any, even the most enormous wrong; he may still properly have other concerns to engage him; but it is his duty, at least, to wash his hands of it, and, if he gives it no thought longer, not to give it practically his support. If I devote myself to other pursuits and contemplations, I must first see, at least, that I do not pursue them sitting upon another man's shoulders." --Henry David Thoreau --On the Duty of Civil Disobedience

Upon rediscovery first impulse to retroactively abort any and all associates and families man woman & child backwards & forwards to expunge the genes of those who would profit the desecration of Walden Pond leaving access to only the rich leaving neither name nor monument their having ever been behind locked gate communities . . . American Eden?

Beware a Jester playing the fool popping pimples on posteriors of rulers for they may well receive not a Fleet but an Napalm enema We are legions and our names are PTSD a World Wide Web union to you who would censor us Anonymous

Give us Liberty or Death for we would be slave to no Man bowed

"Must then a Christ perish in torment in every age to save those that have no imagination?"
--George Bernard Shaw

© 2012 by Jack Spratt All Rights Reserved

120706 17:22

time meaningless nothing in The Presence not held in arms but walked beside in the silent communion nothing passes but values one would give their soul in part or whole for

"Only a man who has felt ultimate despair is capable of feeling ultimate bliss."

There is neither happiness nor misery in the world; there is only the comparison of one state to another, nothing more. He who has felt the deepest grief is best able to experience supreme happiness. We must have felt what it is to die, that we may appreciate the enjoyments of life.” + grief --Alexandre Dumas

& for me for now for us all we soon to die extinguished these words this day will be oft strummed the Aeolian your self adored

I weep freely for what was sold into oblivion this promise so once bright darkened and dying now cloaked enshrouded in greed our once grand being and world gambled the control for gamed and kicked to the curb

Celebration – gratitude – thanksgiving yes to all but there remains a frisson sadness more nearly rage uncontrollable . . . note please those few who read my songs and soft shoe shuffling dance in lower case + grief before --Alexandre Dumas

Methodology: I leave bread crumbs passing through various authors the following crows adoringly leave them mnemonically instead laughing on my shoulders metaphorically emergent a preoccupation with the PTSD those returned warriors and the others beaten senseless by patents of unusual proclivity and bigotry both types raped endlessly grieved

Not all abuse or defamation is 'bad' since in time the pain and suffering forge out truths some to mutilate others in rage or merely refined kindness distilled

{note} I will go forward with my intent the bellow:

120705 05:44 oz

You are important I am important all eyes/I's equally so.

No birth noble or ignoble merely divided biodegradable cells. Life without imprint like the earth was as the center of this one of billions systems constructed or evolved. Just dust gas sometime light sometime black holes consuming dying or generating birthing elements unknowable for this now in eternity equivalent infinity.

You & I cannot know now the begging or end of time or whether the word 'time' has real consequence to the origin of us. What you see is ultimately not what you get. Merely another way of saying to have or have not; no meaning definitively.

Your brain six pounds of tofu your mind another matter.

Some are boy or girl or both equal. Those mindless brainless sightless vacuous or filled with ideas and ideals are equal neutral tuning forks vibrating notes silently unknowable to which we are deaf.

I been dead a long long time just still walking around talking about nothing and I don't waste this precious to me time talking to people who exist the beginning and end no life just a heart beat walking taking dead in a rut an infinite open ended grave no head stone no dirt to cover the stink.

We are in hell no heaven possible but sanctuary yes. The keeper is kept twirling his/her keys raping the bars across your eyes & mind with a club. The only reason he or she lives is to occasionally fuck you up just for fun because They, Inc. Can.

Remember we are all equal none better or worse just the choice to do or be or not.

Two choices basic to existence be a Sadist or Masochist or a member of the living dead.

Which role in this play do want?

To eat, shit, die indifferent or to live as one or the other role. Remember you can't escape the prison keeper kept or like me you think 'I never asked to be born and don't want to live anymore.'

Fine.

End “your” life.

Woodstock.

Ground Hog Day.

You'll never escape playing the same role over and over until you choose to change the script.

Go shopping at a different store new or old car to get or not get laid. Fill in the blank what's your flavor ass mouth vagina or maybe knitting needles in your urethra. Daddy wanted you to take over his bank and you wanted to be Snow Bunny

In you is a bird cage filled with diversity yet you are just one of the kinds, the species special the one you love best. . . .

I'll stop here having resurrected the string. Our time place consciousness is merely that a string with beginning middle end and nothing more only The All is infinite

© 2012 by Jack Spratt All Rights Reserved


120706 04:55 truth

I have empathy and respect for politicians but of trust for their “truth” I have none.

I distrust the Bible in many ways yet within as with most wisdom books there is a kernel truth writ enormous hidden. It is my truth that I have seen God, not metaphorically but face-to-face stone cold sober. Yet I am shy speaking this for the hysteria, a feminine slander actually, it might cause. By experience I have learned that definitions are fluid subject to projection wishful or magical thinking and change with time by their use and abuse.

This is an ongoing dialog not ending in death or eternity for both God and the all that surrounds us for now is expansive. Yet like we this species called mankind the most predatory destructive violent and dare I say savage. Using the word carefully for The Nobel “Savages” we so glibly annihilated more so than Hitler or Joseph Stalin we Americans are guilty of the worst crimes in history.

And our crimes go on amplified by power's quest for competition and simple childish greed. My beloved mentor Norm Ouellet http://livejournal.com/~normand_ouellet uses a phrase “Yah But!” indicative of protest the potential of change in any dimension or measure. M being my other mentor she of emerald Sphinx gaze is the other.

Love is not what we get but what we give.

In honor no gratuity required for what they gave me I give you. We are not a cabal or corporation but merely friends me in the middle being grateful and now joyous Though this world and all inhabitants as we know our selves now will be exterminated by our indifference and waste thus soon extinct.

Yet by Weird Science both the movie and the reality of Exxon manipulations we are lead further beyond the point of no return. Forestall a bit maybe but the dire end is closing rapidly.

If in fact my encounter with what we call God is sincere regardless working with those about to die has enabled me to accept that I could and may want to die at any minute so I have no fear of THE THOUGH POLICE, EXXON, or god. Yet in love with the flesh of all His/Her children I will not harm neither those who torture nor those who slay me.

The Wizard of Oz seems appropriate of mention for not only the fear filled man who speaks with “god like voice” but equally the governance of those not freely elected and their corruption of those who are.

So few of us truly know what a friend is ever never being one to our self never fully trustworthy nor transparent souls fully disclosed nakedly so. For me it began in the Rankin House in Ripley Ohio on the second floor at least during my childhood there were hidden rooms with manacles symbols of what was fled from. Now there is no where to flea no liberty no real choice. First came the African Americans then the Native Born Indians the and now and forever more you the halt, lame, blind and deaf like me so soon to die.

My truth is I am resident not merely of America, the world but what lays beyond adopted Though I did say in reply to a 'fan' deliciously salacious that I had married God. Free to enter her body I refused infidelity to the Who or Whom not the IT I love.

Less dramatic or sentimental. I returned from elementary school hiccuping hysterically crying stumbling with commotion stumbling into the residence of my parents never home to me . . . “Mommy they called you a Whore” both laughed at me.

End of story.

Death be not proud it is merely the beginning again a new chapter. Rebirth virgin.

Be well beloved family of mine all of you.

Yah But its only a story isn't it?!

 © 2012 by Jack Spratt All Rights Reserved
120705 23:53 Sargent

Bursting from the cool shadowed Company office confines came a sickly green promise a tornado swirling towards my shouting form addressing the platoon Black as night he was the Company Master Sargent three up three down Mine safety pinned to a black band three up Two fingers separated our eyes beginning sotto voce flaming my eyes fixed though him with my thousand meter stare

did
your
Mother
Teach
YOU
THOSE
WORDS!

Unblinking I answered him silent seeing through to the horizon in the pregnant pause a slow grin spread my lips crescendoed slowly the platoon quietly chortled giggled then guffawed Fortissimo

Flames smoldered to embers a blush suffused his glaring face so near mine About face stepping briskly back to his air conditioned lair door quietly closed his rage gentled

6 . . .
7 then
8 finally
9 minutes
at 94 degrees
92 humidity Fort Dix New Jersey mid-July

About face at a brace I shouted Dismissed Our Week End pass withdrawn for dirty barracks not passed I'd promised them they'd do it on their knees with shoe brushes the next inspection

Sure she did Had a mouth on her like a trooper in the Beer Hall half past 11
& even the British Navy in a San Juan whore house
Anytime anyplace any reason or none at all

amen bro

© 2012 by Jack Spratt All Rights Reserved

Wednesday, July 4, 2012


120604 15:33 adaption

Sweet lovely children of God's family beloved home going faith's knowing
lay still expiring in my weeping heart no coffin nor the Stars & Bars draped
to ennoble your slavery sacrificed rewarded resurrection assured warranted
transfiguration

And as for I who remain behind watching the last lamb aboard our humble ark
awaiting our floating upon the sea tranquility eternal to the dove loved olive branch
we will face-to-face God now seen not one star but all we the now extinct extinguished light upon the mount of peace infused no shadows

those who remain my leaving enjoy their spoils briefly then their children turned to
what bizarre mutations suffocating irradiated land, water, air a blaze
for them too I weep now and again


The angel of death arrives by various venues
at times merely old age
at others genes
then accident
or disease
none without merit since there are many things worse


Just off the telephone with my sister who this Monday next will undergo thumb joint replacement one at a time From my growing knowledge base I suggested that whether male or female medico she while able grasp them painfully below their waistline before they waste her with their dirty hands which then they would profit more the remedy their indifference to what they do for profit the bottom line divinely arrogant prevailed


© 2012 by Jack Spratt All Rights Reserved


120704 07:37 incipient

If i speak with love using the tongues of Angels imcomprehesable it is not for my ego but for you to learn to know the finest definitions of love and forgiveness

I am fond of referring to being clubbed senseless yet best describes my experience in the presence of crowds is as either terrified or bored & as rudely reverent having been in The Presence I am dazzled and well remembered the privilege alone & singular

Followed closely on in the wake of my last post it seems the author of my beloved adored & received 'love notes from God' continues to request my attention otherwise begrudgingly given as in Mark Twain's seldom annotated quote from his time in college working at the post office; 
“I hated being at the beck and call of every son-of-a-bitch with two cents.”

If I presume or arrogate the Presence holding me enthralled it is not i but He since i in love would do or be anything for the love of God. Yet no murder nor doing harm

Mother whose flames kept me somewhat distant was fabulously intelligent and upon too few occasions expressed her final evaluation of her self in the following – lamentably imperfect my recall but enough remembered to mention its inspiration--: 
“We must learn being valueless as a grain of sand.”

Apprehensive convicted simply not blown away but apart then & until now; I found William Blake's

To see a world in a Grain of Sand,
And a Heaven in a Wild Flower,
Hold Infinity in the palm of your hand,
And eternity in an hour.” --The Marriage of Heaven and Hell (c. 1790-1793)

At such times again am I savaged by grief
again a reprise ravaged the moments of
penetrative puncture a spear rowed in my
heart & by her leave forgiving me now forgiving
her tutorials she lives eternal as is M so beloved of
me that in gratitude I would go and burn eternally
remembered the sound of her voice telling me to GO!

So too the bride of my youth
beloved upon first sight who
in leaving her said to me
not to return shadowing my body again

it is well that. I will soon be limp and useless this joy stick my testis frozen in the bowl beneath and then I will be less savage in my adoration of women who fascinate me adam befriending a being with nonexistent protrusion merely the Mount of Venus or mons veneris best laved bald

Like our minds we use the lesser least part one trillionth the potential
moving right along . . . it is well that i learned to play with words before the lesser aspect when I knew not its joy or purpose sensuous

I know you cannot hear my mirth tears of joy drowning me at time other extreme I have reams of bathroom wipes instead of facial so endless my tears of both extents
oh jackie you so very bad sad mad boy why not say all orifices?
Returning to the wake luminous afterward the previous post I discovered the following not divination as such merely proof positive that The Beloved not only communicates but has a sense of humor. For &/+ Us.

As the nuns who taught me one needs to ignore first reactions in telling me St. Teresa of Avila & St. John of the Cross were lovers Shocked & Awed I wondered about that until M

Say no more fool since the best part is friendship equal renewed daily unconditional marriage conjugal or otherwise. With that preamble I confess a prior prejudice against all foreign costume and custom particularly in dialect or vernacular but of women's clothes oh boy regardless before during or afterward future
a tincture less now my fetishes that remain

077. No Attachment to Dust

Zengetsu, a Chinese master of the T'ang dynasty, wrote the following advice for his pupils:

Living in the world yet not forming attachments to the dust of the world is the way of a true Zen student.

When witnessing the good action of another encourage yourself to follow his example. Hearing of the mistaken action of another, advise yourself not to emulate it.

Even though alone in a dark room, be as if you were facing a noble guest. Express your feelings, but become no more expressive than your true nature.

Poverty is your treasure. Never exchange it for an easy life.

A person may appear a fool and yet not be one. He may only be guarding his wisdom carefully.

Virtues are the fruit of self-discipline and do not drop from heaven of themselves as does rain or snow.

Modesty is the foundation of all virtues. Let your neighbors discover you before you make yourself known to them.

A noble heart never forces itself forward. Its words are as rare gems, seldom displayed and of great value.

To a sincere student, every day is a fortunate day. Time passes but he never lags behind. Neither glory nor shame can move him.

Censure yourself, never another. Do not discuss right and wrong.

Some things, though right, were considered wrong for generations. Since the value of righteousness may be recognized after centuries, there is no need to crave immediate appreciation.

Live with cause and leave results to the great law of the universe. Pass each day in peaceful contemplation.


I stand reproved not diciplined with the rod but with compassionate passionate love empathy and forgiveness. In closing the women I have loved perhaps could not stand the rarefied air of my adoration or my molsetation desired of their unique difference between us lusted for.

Oh dear sweet Jesus I adore you and playing with words.

“I am a man; nothing human is alien to me.” --Terence