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#fathering
I went to my friend almost afraid to expose the need I found as I read the book, not knowing if he would be deaf to it. As I spoke of my father who was not there to show his boy how to be a man I recounted my losses and the load of grief I felt. My sadness clung to me a heavy suit of chainmail on a dark knight. I could feel my face drooping in lamentation unable to be the smiling grinning buddy I normally brought to the room. Seemingly unable to enter into my pain, my friend, a man of great intellect, character and conviction, responded only with a litany of his own. I tried to listen but my burden made it a mighty climb. Now I know my pal is only human and I am wrestling with my self sweating MY deafness.
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Jan 28, 2023
Jan 28, 2023 at 1:50 AM UTC
Limits of Friendship
A wondrous sky at dawn, Protected from the frightful storm, Sheltered within the gentle sea, You rose in perfect authenticity. A precious gift of pure and right, You slowly peaked with warmth and light, Love and beauty, like none before, Purposefully rising, finding more. You grew so fast from this humble beginning, The World's most sacred, loved belonging. The storms did come, with terror and fright, The mothering horizon, holding you tight, With all her imperfections, from another day, Helpless to stop you, growing away- Exposing yourself to the tall dark sky, Damaged and polluted, with wailing cry. Lovingly protected, by choppy waters, Your faith and resilience cracks and falters. We see your beauty, strength and light, Fighting darkness, in the futile fight. As you begin to leave, the sea's horizon, We pray for our failures to be forgotten, We pray that in, the tall dark sky, You'll have a good wind, and peaceful flight. We hope that you will weather the storm, Mingle with stars, formed not torn, Free with the birds, like a shooting star, With our heavy hearts, with love from afar. As you rise above, in midday glory- Strong, we hope, lucky; just happy.
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May 29, 2018
May 29, 2018 at 6:20 AM UTC
Birth in Rottingdean
Wounded.  Staring at the gaping hole - shock. This was not supposed to be that fight, those rounds - from where? Laughter I hear, carefree cackles of one who never knew Responsibility, dues and costs, penalties dear.  For whim to be entertained not wise enough to realize entertained is enslaved. I hear voices calling my name, telling me to hold on, this wasn't my fault It was - is.  I chose to think myself wiser, trusting my judgement Foolish. Now, dying. I can feel my heartbeat increasing.  I know, less to move it must go faster thermodynamics even in death must be satisfied.  Why in life we are not all bound by such an equalizer - I'll now never know. I had a foot, legs - no longer felt yet there. Toes protruding from worn sock.  All I feel is the burning of the phosphor. She laughs still, thinking in life her vict'ry but nay, her laughter betrays her Uncertain, alone, thinking she is in control when truth revealing,  She controls nothing. Take what you will and can little idiot. Foolish jester of the court of your own mind. Be certain in your own supremacy for therein your demise. And, I smile knowing that if is I who'll laugh at last. As into final slumber I slip A caress from my Princess, my blade ****** deep into the enemy And I sleep. No more voices, no laughter, yet I see the amazement Faces before contorted in mocking humiliation, now stare in disbelief Reality has hit. Death alone liberates but man's soul, Christ, his spirit takes. At last I kneel before my Princess, her hand upon worn pommel upon mine, Fuller stain'd with the conquered blood, point to foible worn dull from the slash Her hand brushes the scarred worn face Eye to eye, though still on my knee I sleep - and breathe my last          Her kiss upon my lips unto eternal sleep until called forth again I rise             To raise my sword again and ****** against the horde unleashed as blood cold         Runs like river deep in Spring thaw o'erflowing banks from a far land  laughter cackling on the shore and my curse endure again bared Poor lost and wicked child. Your victory my death My death, your defeat. For I shall live on forever and your dreams haunt as surely as if I were there E'en though you deny it My Princess stands protected again, with raised sword and shield, enveloped by my wing My breath from her I draw - sweet like honey's kiss - and I sleep in eternal bliss.
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Jul 1, 2014
Jul 1, 2014 at 11:01 PM UTC
Princess and the Insolent Child
Wounded.  Staring at the gaping hole - shock. This was not supposed to be that fight, those rounds - from where? Laughter I hear, carefree cackles of one who never knew Responsibility, dues and costs, penalties dear.  For whim to be entertained not wise enough to realize entertained is enslaved. I hear voices calling my name, telling me to hold on, this wasn't my fault It was - is.  I chose to think myself wiser, trusting my judgement Foolish. Now, dying. I can feel my heartbeat increasing.  I know, less to move it must go faster thermodynamics even in death must be satisfied.  Why in life we are not all bound by such an equalizer - I'll now never know. I had a foot, legs - no longer felt yet there. Toes protruding from worn sock.  All I feel is the burning of the phosphor. She laughs still, thinking in life her vict'ry but nay, her laughter betrays her Uncertain, alone, thinking she is in control when truth revealing,  She controls nothing. Take what you will and can little idiot. Foolish jester of the court of your own mind. Be certain in your own supremacy for therein your demise. And, I smile knowing that if is I who'll laugh at last. As into final slumber I slip A caress from my Princess, my blade ****** deep into the enemy And I sleep. No more voices, no laughter, yet I see the amazement Faces before contorted in mocking humiliation, now stare in disbelief Reality has hit. Death alone liberates but man's soul, Christ, his spirit takes. At last I kneel before my Princess, her hand upon worn pommel upon mine, Fuller stain'd with the conquered blood, point to foible worn dull from the slash Her hand brushes the scarred worn face Eye to eye, though still on my knee I sleep - and breathe my last          Her kiss upon my lips unto eternal sleep until called forth again I rise             To raise my sword again and ****** against the horde unleashed as blood cold         Runs like river deep in Spring thaw o'erflowing banks from a far land  laughter cackling on the shore and my curse endure again bared Poor lost and wicked child. Your victory my death My death, your defeat. For I shall live on forever and your dreams haunt as surely as if I were there E'en though you deny it My Princess stands protected again, with raised sword and shield, enveloped by my wing My breath from her I draw - sweet like honey's kiss - and I sleep in eternal bliss.
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John James Stanley Whyte why would you not do what was right man of the cloth man of the sea (at least in uniformity) privileged hypocrite evader of consequence Doctor of Divinity all that's divine about you, is me Used my mother because you could refused to acknowledge you're in my blood was it due to the class divide that you found it so easy to throw us aside? Whenever she wanted to punish me she'd list the ways I took after you say I was created in your image say that your visage was mirrored in me that the nose I hated was exactly like yours and that was hard to take She showed me a cutting someone sent to her from the Scotsman I think or perhaps some local rag from Edinburgh, where you were saying you'd been bound over for indecent exposure from the window of your Manse where you stood naked though whether ***** it did not say And she'd beg me not to turn out like you and I would ask in my innocence what she meant by that "He's a ladies' man" she'd reply and I had no clue what she meant by this yet even then the idea of nakedness sent a tingle up my spine though I didn't like what I had to show felt it wasn't really mine You had a life of comfort while ours was hand to mouth did anything ever stick to you did your conscience ever twinge did you ever even wonder what became of me? I'm not sure why I never yet tried to track you down perhaps it shows my utter contempt or on the other hand maybe I felt being rejected once was once more than enough and a second time would be two more than I should take yet at times I wonder what fate had in store for you because if your karma didn't catch up with you it sure as hell got me Cynthia Pauline Jones 23/9/2013
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Mar 17, 2014
Mar 17, 2014 at 7:38 AM UTC
The Putative Father
John James Stanley Whyte why would you not do what was right man of the cloth man of the sea (at least in uniformity) privileged hypocrite evader of consequence Doctor of Divinity all that's divine about you, is me Used my mother because you could refused to acknowledge you're in my blood was it due to the class divide that you found it so easy to throw us aside? Whenever she wanted to punish me she'd list the ways I took after you say I was created in your image say that your visage was mirrored in me that the nose I hated was exactly like yours and that was hard to take She showed me a cutting someone sent to her from the Scotsman I think or perhaps some local rag from Edinburgh, where you were saying you'd been bound over for indecent exposure from the window of your Manse where you stood naked though whether ***** it did not say And she'd beg me not to turn out like you and I would ask in my innocence what she meant by that "He's a ladies' man" she'd reply and I had no clue what she meant by this yet even then the idea of nakedness sent a tingle up my spine though I didn't like what I had to show felt it wasn't really mine You had a life of comfort while ours was hand to mouth did anything ever stick to you did your conscience ever twinge did you ever even wonder what became of me? I'm not sure why I never yet tried to track you down perhaps it shows my utter contempt or on the other hand maybe I felt being rejected once was once more than enough and a second time would be two more than I should take yet at times I wonder what fate had in store for you because if your karma didn't catch up with you it sure as hell got me Cynthia Pauline Jones 23/9/2013
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