“They saw their injured country's woe;
The flaming town, the wasted field;
Then rushed to meet the insulting foe;
They took the spear, - but left the shield.”
―Philip Freneau
.
And by a prudent flight and cunning save A life which valour could not, from the grave. A better buckler I can soon regain, But who can get another life again?
Archilochus
Saturday, September 3, 2016
Happy Labor Day to All You American Job Holders
... and Give Thanks that there's Still Some Honest Work to Do
Foul-minded, ill-intentioned –– your Ugly disposition longs to battle. Caring only to distress not cure, Kicking at the sky you shake your rattle
In defiance of Propriety. Noxious noise is all that you produce –– Grotesque behavior seeking notoriety –– Bad smelling like a long-uncleansed prepuce.
A soul in torment must be what you are –– Suffering with the fear you are inferior. Too bad! A fine intelligence you mar Assaulting with produce from your posterior.
Redemption might be earned should you relent, Desist your endless insults, and repent.
Could it be We need our fantasies And fond illusions More than we need Mundane reality?
Did ancient astronauts Visit Earth aeons ago, Plant Colonies - perform Wondrous Feats of Engineering
Still unexplained?
The eternal Mystery of The Pyramids - The Sphinx Stonehenge - Gigantic Chalk Figures, Discernible only from great heights - Easter Island - Machu Pichu?
The Origin of Man - The miracles of Music - Painting - Sculpture - Poetry and Thought.
The Star of Bethlehem - The Virgin Birth - The Magi - Betrayal, Death and Resurrection?
Parked beside a lane with lilies lined Instinct drives us to the fragrant fields Carrying buckets to our task resigned. Keeping up with Nature’s bounty yields In summer morning’s warm, earth-scented mist Nostalgic sweet refreshment from the soil. Gleefully we gather berries kissed By sunshine, plump with rain before they spoil. Edible, these gems that fill our pails Remain, once tasted, as a lifelong treat. Remembrance fond at “Realism” rails. It knows behind our stated urge to eat, Each one of us who picks collects delights Stored to ease the future’s endless nights.
May God bless the practical women and men, Who rise from the hay every day, and then Produce what we need Without rancor or greed, Make things run, Get things done, Keep things clean, So they're fit to be seen, And continuously smooth the way So that we may live comfortably every day.
Come, labor on. Who dares stand idle on the harvest plain while all around us waves the golden grain? And to each servant does the Master say, "Go work today."
Come, labor on. The enemy is watching night and day, to sow the tares, to snatch the seed away; while we in sleep our duty have forgot, he slumbers not.
Come, labor on. Away with gloomy doubts and faithless fear! No arm so weak but may do service here: by feeblest agents may our God fulfill his righteous will.
Come, labor on. Claim the high calling angels cannot share: to young and old the gospel gladness bear. Redeem the time its hours so swiftly fly the night draws nigh.
Come, labor on. No time for rest, till glows the western sky, till the long shadows o'er our pathway lie and a glad sound comes with the setting sun: "Servants, well done."
8 comments:
Woo goo let's go throw dynamite at some cops!
______ A Soul in Torment ______
Foul-minded, ill-intentioned –– your
Ugly disposition longs to battle.
Caring only to distress not cure,
Kicking at the sky you shake your rattle
In defiance of Propriety.
Noxious noise is all that you produce ––
Grotesque behavior seeking notoriety ––
Bad smelling like a long-uncleansed prepuce.
A soul in torment must be what you are ––
Suffering with the fear you are inferior.
Too bad! A fine intelligence you mar
Assaulting with produce from your posterior.
Redemption might be earned should you relent,
Desist your endless insults, and repent.
~ FreeThinke
___ COULD IT BE ___
Could it be
We need our fantasies
And fond illusions
More than we need
Mundane reality?
Did ancient astronauts
Visit Earth aeons ago,
Plant Colonies - perform
Wondrous Feats of Engineering
Still unexplained?
The eternal Mystery of
The Pyramids - The Sphinx
Stonehenge - Gigantic Chalk Figures,
Discernible only from great heights -
Easter Island - Machu Pichu?
The Origin of Man -
The miracles of Music -
Painting - Sculpture -
Poetry and Thought.
The Star of Bethlehem -
The Virgin Birth - The Magi -
Betrayal, Death and Resurrection?
Patterns of Migration?
Courtship Rituals?
Attachment - Dependency -
Illness - Abandonment -
Grief - Tedium -
Decline - Decay -
The eternal Search
For Acceptance - Appreciation -
Affection - Understanding -
ESCAPE!
~ FreeThinke
__________ Picking Berries _________
Parked beside a lane with lilies lined
Instinct drives us to the fragrant fields
Carrying buckets to our task resigned.
Keeping up with Nature’s bounty yields
In summer morning’s warm, earth-scented mist
Nostalgic sweet refreshment from the soil.
Gleefully we gather berries kissed
By sunshine, plump with rain before they spoil.
Edible, these gems that fill our pails
Remain, once tasted, as a lifelong treat.
Remembrance fond at “Realism” rails.
It knows behind our stated urge to eat,
Each one of us who picks collects delights
Stored to ease the future’s endless nights.
~ FreeThinke - The Sandpiper - Summer 1995
______ TO THOSE WHO HELP ______
May God bless the practical women and men,
Who rise from the hay every day, and then
Produce what we need
Without rancor or greed,
Make things run,
Get things done,
Keep things clean,
So they're fit to be seen,
And continuously smooth the way
So that we may live comfortably every day.
~ FreeThinke
_______ COME, LABOR ON _______
Come, labor on.
Who dares stand idle on the harvest plain
while all around us waves the golden grain?
And to each servant does the Master say,
"Go work today."
Come, labor on.
The enemy is watching night and day,
to sow the tares, to snatch the seed away;
while we in sleep our duty have forgot,
he slumbers not.
Come, labor on.
Away with gloomy doubts and faithless fear!
No arm so weak but may do service here:
by feeblest agents may our God fulfill
his righteous will.
Come, labor on.
Claim the high calling angels cannot share:
to young and old the gospel gladness bear.
Redeem the time its hours so swiftly fly
the night draws nigh.
Come, labor on.
No time for rest, till glows the western sky,
till the long shadows o'er our pathway lie
and a glad sound comes with the setting sun:
"Servants, well done."
~ T. Tertius Noble
G-d bless the working man..oh wait..that's not politically correct FJ..lol
Keep the faith my friend! xoxoxox
Amen, Angel! :)
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