Scapegoat

“It’s like this,” he said. He said it real slow. Then he said, “Pass me that bottle.” The bottle held rye, a nice drink. Smooth and savory from single grain. He drank, but not too much, just a sip clean and neat. Then he put the glass down. The glass he’d poured into, his favorite glass, the gift of a friend no longer his friend. He let the liquor sweeten his disposition and continued. “I’m a scapegoat,” he said. “They blame me.” “Who blames you?” “They all blame me. They drove me off, told me don’t come back and I never did, because I’m a good boy. Doesn’t matter if you’re good or bad if they make you a scapegoat. That’s what they want you to be. That’s what they need you to be. That’s what they make you.” He took another sip. “Can’t change it.” Then he said, “Thank […]

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The Second Fire

Prometheus brought fire to the earth we are told and lo, the Gods punished him, because Gods are wealthy and jealous of power. There’s a second fire we can bestow, if only we dare. The fire of love. Gods are wealthy and jealous of power. They seek to punish. We must beware. Reckless and heedless of consequence, we must yet love and thereby warm and illuminate the earth. Let them do what they will, we carry as a gift fire to those enslaved by darkness, chained and cold. Gods are wealthy and jealous of love. Rob them and give to the poor. ƒ

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Hooks for Hands

He lost them by accident. One false move, one unguarded moment and he burned. They cut off what was left and right and fitted him with steel actuated by cables, attached to his shoulders by leather straps.   I found him smiling, greeting children and ringing the bell in a parade, having his picture taken and never once did I see anything but a smile upon his face.   Never once have I seen such courage, no never once but many times, as many times as there are hooks and scars and amputations where life once took itself for granted.   Now life wins once again, no not once, but many times. ♦

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Musicianship

Ever seen those guys playing their music? Rock and roll, rhythm and blues, classical or jazz.   It doesn’t matter what. They jive. They play their music. They listen to each other, fall in and out, nod and smile.   Ever seen those guys playing their politics? Can’t hit a single note. Got no rhythm. Can’t find the key. ♠

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Intrepidity

A woman is singing at a banquet. Over one thousand people are eating and talking and no one can see the head table without binoculars. There is so much noise. The woman is singing at a banquet. She’s getting paid. She has a microphone. She loves music. It doesn’t matter. No one is listening. The woman is singing anyway.   ♥

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Con Ve Nience

I am the great God Con Ve Nience. Sacrifice to Me. Give Me everything. Sacrifice your time in the hunger for more time. Give to Me your treasure in the thirst for more treasure. Sacrifice quality, craftsmanship, reliability, dependability, durability and endurance for the sake of Me, always Me and Myself. I am Con Ve Nience. Bow down and if you find yourself with child, how inconvenient, sacrifice the very fruit of your womb, disavow your words of love and devotion, your imploring need, because all you really want is Me. I am Con Ve Nience. Offer me your soul. ƒ

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Ripping

In the old days a man faced a six foot plank with a rip saw and he wanted two planks so he began. He marked the plank with a ruler and a pencil and he drew a line where he wanted to saw and he began. He began to saw all the way down that six foot plank because men do what men do. It’s between the man and he job and every man knows this and no job gives a damn. So he began and he sawed and sawed and sawed and after about the fiftieth stroke his muscles began to remind him of softer tasks, but of course he ignored he whispers of ache and pain. He ignored the screams of ligaments and tendons when they came and the sweat and death like grip of his hands on the saw. He sawed and sawed and sawed and after […]

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Smoking

It isn’t really about the nicotine or the tars and resins. It isn’t about the warnings. It’s really about the snap of the lighter when you shut it, the placement of the flame so close to your face, the first wraith of smoke ascending into the air like your life and the love you feel like the burning tip beneath the ash. That’s what its really about, honey. You got a light? ♥

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Cut the Power

They cut the power today to work on the lines. The computer went off. The lights went off. The refrigerator went off. The garage door wouldn’t open. I wanted to mow the yard. The door has a release. I opened it by hand. When it happens you learn a few things. You learn how important it is to think, to improvise, to work without buttons or switches or instant anything. You learn something else in the quiet of birds and wind and branches cutting their way up into the air. You learn if the boys and girls are right about the way the world works and survival of the fittest, origin of the species and how many eons it takes to get anything done, you better pray not for salvation, but eternal electricity. ♦

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Learn To Row

I learned to row a long time ago, in a boat with my name on the bow, given to me by my grandfather who built it with his hands, the hands I inherited. The boat is gone, but I learned to row a long time ago.   Slow and steady, all day long,  all night if you dare, if you see the lights and steer by grace freely given, the long reach, the deep bite, the pull back toward forgiveness and you reach out as far as you can and pull again.   Over and over it goes. You face away from where you’re headed, but you get there all the same.   I learned to row a long time ago. My grandfather long gone with all the guts he gave me through my Dad said it best,  “Row for your life.”   Row to heaven or go to hell, […]

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