Rants. raves and ramblings from celestial circles . . .

Posts tagged ‘prose’

ETERNITY IN THE PALM OF YOUR HAND

ETERNITY IN THE PALM OF MY HAND

I was raised by nuns and brothers. Baptized and confirmed Catholic. Like Christ I travelled, explored the world and conferred with the wise in the Himalayas, in Rome, in India, in Austin, among many other places. I grew up in a Judaic neighborhood in Philly. Lived among the Amish in Pa. Debated Atheists and non believers in many places. Experimented with substances natural and synthetic.
In the late 70’s after my early travels and explorations, I became spiritually whole in my beliefs. I follow the guidance of Mary Magdalene. It is not rising from the dead or believing
In God and Christ that is most important.
If you live in love you will always reach a Divine Kingdom. Both here on Earth and beyond. Mary’s message was Christs message to her. The most important mission from Christ was love and to teach others how to teach enlightenment. Everything else with Churches is vanity.

God, God’s and Superheroes

God, Gods and Superheroes


Special influences motivate your future, paving the way for career aspirations. My father was my hero. He was my greatest influence. My dad was real. I could touch him, hug him, talk to him, kiss him, love him, hurt him or hate him. He was real.

It is important for people to tell you how special parents are. To appreciate the dedication and sacrifice.

The reality of life is different. My father provided the necessary inspiration to survive the fears and wounds that a harsh and abrasive world impacts on delicate, sensitive young minds and bodies. Mom would cry at the end of the movie and remind you that it was just a movie. My dad would tear it apart with his mind, relating it to the wonders of everyday life. He would relive war movies and westerns comparing them with his own struggles and tribulations.

He taught me by example. Teaching me the value of hard work and dedication to the family. He was always willing to give me that all important last portion of dessert. Most of all he would do everything he could to make sure I had what was important to me, my first book bag for school, my first car, and my education. My father was my guide in sorting the many ideals and concepts that even he didn’t always fully understand. My father always had an answer.

My dad was my hero and my best friend. We communicated by an unspoken code, stronger than eloquent words. His example kept me strong. In his few times of weakness, I strove to return his exemplified strength. The most important thing I can remember was his smile. His smile and his laughter could always turn my world on a dime. I know my smile was his world, too. His influence on my life was second only to God.

My fathers life was accounting. I didn’t want to be an accountant. Yet he inspired in me ambition, respect and appreciation of the miracles of life and the reality of its’ brevity and drastic change. I’m certain now that he influenced me in ways I may not appreciate until years from now. Again I will think back and reminisce. Thankful for the many moments I didn’t quite understand at the time.

My father passed away unexpectedly from stomach cancer in 1999. I can never forget those last few precious weeks. We watched the Oilers lose to Pittsburgh and we prayed together. I just couldn’t bear to watch him through the pain of his treatment. I worked at a cancer hospital every day, and yet I felt helpless. All the good times we shared together helping him build his business and knowing my children would not share those fruits with their grandfather. Life is change.

Today is his birthday. Somehow I know he’s happy. My dad is still my hero and my greatest influence. I can relate this, hoping you too will appreciate your heroes. While they are still with us to be appreciated.
_______________

HEY I WAS ALRIGHT, THEN CAME THE REVOLUTION

How did we inherit this? I thought we were trying to make it better. Now here we are struggling along the old beaten path, only to find out things are worse. In the early days, gangs meant the Boy Scouts, or the kids living on Sycamore Lane against the chumps on Oak Drive. We would plan the encounter for days, only for it to wind up turning into a ballgame. It doesn’t work that way now, dude. It’s more like hack ’em up permanently.

At night we would drive around. Some of us might have a beer, we would yell at girls or paper the grumpy neighbors house. Man, we didn’t machine gun ’em in a pile of blood.

The cartoons were kinda’ rough. Maybe that’s where all this started. Popeye would get a little ugly with Brutus. Now you see eyeballs and arms and brains all over the place. It’s just not cool! We waited a long time for these years, just to have them screwed up by some punks in the wrong direction, or the greedy money hungry old fools making good on their adolescent shortcomings. Go home with it.

Hey, I’m hip. It’s America and I am an immigrant living better than any previous generation. I am not going to put up with this ‘tomorrow isn’t getting any better’ bullshit. If it doesn’t get any better tomorrow then it never will.

I think there are still real people out there in America. They work hard, they are honest, and they are just trying to stay ahead. But they get screwed bad everyday, by the politician, the white collar crook, the blue collar crook, by their employers, the judges and all the rest. This shit just won’t go. If the kid wants to be a ‘man’ and play with a gun maybe he should be living with the adults. Let them start paying us back just like their friends behind the costly steel bars. We need more road signs and other things that don’t compete with private enterprise. 

When I was growing up we thought ‘wow, man, bad news’, Vietnam and hell were one and the same. We thought our generation would live and die at war. But a couple of wild hairs, a few cowards and a few more even worse worked to change it. Then everyone was spiked with a heavy dose of freedom. But they forgot the main ingredient. It is the core of what we did it for.

Somewhere is this good hard working pioneer value. It is so frail. And there are so many bad pioneer losers. Their voices are louder. They get all the publicity.

Get naked and find a life. You attach your organism to whatever you like, but give the kids an even break. A clean break. Don’t push it. Face it, there isn’t much difference between what you buy at the drugstore and what they sell on the streets. It all depends on what you have and what you don’t. The dudes pushing the stuff are richy, rich, rich. What a burn.

No man, we didn’t plan this shit. Just like we didn’t plan Aids. We thought we were a little smarter than the Beatniks and the Hippies, if we could just get a grip. If we could just tighten up and lighten up. It didn’t happen dude, now we are just bitching. Where in the hell did the good shit go? And where did they stash all those good ideas? I’m gonna’ keep looking pal. And every time I see a cow bend over backwards I’m gonna’ kick it in the ass. I owe it to them. Clean it up, get capitalistically environmental, almost like organized religion. I hate that phrase. You know I always kinda’ figured it was too late for us, but I’m still thinking ahead.

THE STORY OF X

ONE IN THE BUSH IS WORTH TWO IN THE DESERT

THE STORY OF X

PRESIDENTS FOR SALE

Beware of bumper stickers selling colors with dollar signs. The colors don’t ever fade. The dollars evade. I found an old sticker stuck to my rump. It had the same old bump and the same old hump. Same old hand on the same old trump. There are only two kinds of candidates. Bandits on a legal run. 

Legality is a state of mind. The elephant doesn’t ever forget. The donkey keeps the mule in stride from calling an ass an ass. There is a hair on the dog, if you can pluck it it may break the camels back. Keeps them all on track.

They run side by side. The winners are losers and the losers are won. A face blurts out from the magic glass box. The only thing you can’t feel is his saliva hitting your face. He slovenly spits at you while he tells you that he loves you. One for the left and one for the right. And one from the man who is always caught in the middle. 

I, we, they, will keep them coming. Or keep them from coming. Keep them smiling and laughing and crying and paying. Mostly paying and praying, for God knows what comes next. Another policy, another cover. And then some more undercover.

He stands alone at his moment of glory on his most unholy pulpit. Honest, determined, concerned, dedicated with dollar signs glowing brightly. One in each eye. If you push him in the right direction, stuff his mouth with green meanies and keep his pretty toes clean, he will be your man. Your man on the scene. Your man for all reasons, with little if any logic. And George Laborworker opens his daily paper. The headline boldly reads ‘Presidents For Sale’. With a dollar fifty nine in his pocket he turns the page. The sports section is always on his side.

THE STORY OF X

THE PIMP AND THE PAUPER

THE STORY OF X

REMEMBRANCE: PAGE THREE

THE STORY OF X

REMEMBRANCE: PAGE TWO

REMEMBRANCE: PAGE TWO

THE STORY OF X

REMEMBRANCE: THE STORY OF X

THE STORY OF X

THE FIRST PAGE AND THE LAST HERO

THE FIRST PAGE AND THE LAST HERO

THE STORY OF X

BOOK ONE ‘X’ – Notes On The Wasteland

Book One

THE STORY OF X

Authors Note

May 8, 2023

On publishing ‘The Story Of X‘ here on The Circus And The Zoo blog site:

I’ll do my best to post a new page every day until the entire 65 or so pages are published here on this blog. I will also revise the text to correct any spelling or grammatical errors from the original typed manuscript. And publish the corrected collection as a hard copy to make it publicly available on Amazon.

After the Story of X is completely published here, I will begin on another completed novella I have called the Story of O. It is a Science Fiction story composed of several different continuing short stories. In the 1990’s it was collected and composed into one amazing and prophetic epic. Back in 2012 I wrote the accompanying film screenplay called ‘Seven Lost‘. Seven Lost has a web page, a Twitter Feed, as well as a Facebook page. All still in early development. The work continues . . .

Enjoy!

Please feel free to provide comments or feedback.

And of course, share with friends whenever possible.

Thank you for reading and following along.

FJL

A MOMENT GONE

I was lost in a moment of time

thinking about you

eagles fly and dolphins swim

forever in my mind

flowers bloom and lovers cry

promising each other

every piece of sky

.

.

Embraced in nights eternal love

and dreams eternal stars

there you are

whisper away fears

build castles from the broken pieces

hold you tight within my heart

.

.

eagles fly and dolphins swim

flowers bloom and lovers cry

forever in my mind

build castles from the broken pieces

hold you tight within my heart

there you are

dream eternal stars

.

.

you are a summer rain

on a hot sunny day

the moon reflecting on the open water

a cool river rolling through the rocks on a spring day

.

.

i’m coming home, baby

coming home,

coming back to you

back to you

A WORLD OF COLOR IN BLACK AND WHITE

Sky Halo July 2016 Sophia

 

BLM (Black Lives Matter) is a case study in irony. While they promote their cause that black lives matter, they also seem to endorse the fact that white lives do not. A hateful and certainly racist opinion, no doubt.

I cannot (and do not) believe that the majority of intelligent black Americans believe in this violent hatred. I give them much more credit than all of the current stupidity and idiocy. I do recognize the fact that there is a significant minority of vengeful black racists that insist on violent civil disobedience and on fueling the fires of hatred. In effect, promoting killing and death.

And I do very much feel that Barack Obama has further fueled the hatred instead of endorsing unity and peace, as many truly believed he would. Despite what any of my friends may think or feel (or anyone else) – – – he is a failure. He had the opportunity to unite and heal. Instead he chose to further promote exclusivity, elitism, segregating protectionist legislation, divisiveness and hatred. It is a direct reflection of his lack of character and continued incompetence.

The reality for all of us is that BLM and any other groups promoting such hatred are no different than the Ku Klux Klan, or foreign terrorist organizations. War is easy to incite. Just about anyone can do it. Peace, on the other hand, is a cause that has to be worked on every single day. It is an arduous and often long term process with miraculous results.

I applaud all of my friends and celebrities such as Ringo Starr that are promoting peace. But unfortunately, in order to have peace you must FIGHT hatred. Promoting peace and love is all good and well, but without fighting ignorance, hatred and violence it means nothing.

God Bless and guide with strength the families of those brave American heroes that died in the line of duty protecting our freedoms and our rights to live peacefully. And have mercy on the family of the misguided young man that committed the barbarous acts of evil, under the guise of hateful groups and individuals such as Black Lives Matter.

Amen

THE DESTROYERS OF THE DAWN

DCIM100GOPRO

 

 

I’ve experienced the operatives of deceit throughout my life in many different forms and in many different media. I was destined from birth to seek and share, Truth and enlightenment, wherever and whenever. So it continues to be a constant struggle. A consistent challenge where they suppress all forms of achievement and advancement in any way they can.

I can not stress enough how ingrained and integrated they are in every aspect of our lives. They are especially most dangerous to those that attempt to reveal them and expose them to others. They are masters of disinformation. They use politics, religion or any personal topic they can to fulfill their deviant agenda. Or worse.

Be aware. Call them out whenever possible. Don’t let them divert your focus from the sharing and spread of knowledge and enlightenment. They are powerful and very wealthy. They are the concealers of artifacts and learning from the past. They are in hiding in lands and countries throughout the world. Their modus operandi is to use conflict and violence to control and confiscate the world treasures they haven’t already confiscated and concealed for themselves.

Be aware!

And in secret warehouses, underground caves, bunkers, castles and mansions . . . millions of artifacts dwell in darkness, few in the limelight. Many in crates and boxes, compartmentalized. Few records of their existence and fewer still, those authorized to open them to verify if their recorded contents actually still exist.

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