my lost saints
fiction
edward w pritchard
Not being Catholic or anything like that I don't know much about Saints, though always did I admire truly Saint Francis of Assisi from the Giotto painting " Renunciation of Saint Francis' Father", renunciation being intimately familiar to me having lost my best friend over money in a more round about gradual manner myself.
To me however my lost saints will always be The Beatles the big brothers I never had, the man about town I never was and over night success I never came to be, me wanting to be a writer and poet in the Lennon and McCartney tradition. Then came the revelations about Yoko and John's mean drunk drinking in NYC, Paul being mysteriously dead over and over on Album covers I listened to but never actually bought, George being a tad over the top with the mystical stuff, even for me an impractical egg headed dreamer, and finally after John's tragic death reality set in that my Saints had fallen and I was stuck facing a hostile world alone.
A few weeks ago I was commenting to a pretty young girl at the grocery check out, flirting a bit to her who was wearing a Beatles pin on her blouse, she who had been to see Paul perform in Cleveland recently that despite my admiration for the Lads none of them had ever called me, stopped to acknowledge my existence or even criticized my mentioning them in my mostly unread writings. The pretty young girl she just didn't understand where I was coming from.
So not unlike Elizabeth Barrett Browning a fellow Poet who in Sonnet 43 " How do I love thee" wrote the best love poem since Shakespeare I now have lost my Saints [and loves] and my challenge is to find the divinity in myself as I come to realize I am my lost Saint letting slip away my potential as the spark of divinity sacredly placed in myself once by unseen hands wanes with age as I sojourn alone trudging along seeking significance in the face and smile of a grandchild or troubles of one of my children.
Skyward this week did I gaze at a full moon 30 times brighter than usual next visible at this luminosity long after I be gone and forgotten, Venus lighting the coming interminable autumn night and as I hear it universes without end drifting further apart as time slowly grinds on. Me with the audacity to wish for significance in personal being and remembrance as a speck of matter once possessing a spark of insight into stone cold Reality. I am my lost Saints. C'est dommage.
Sunday, November 20, 2016
Saturday, November 19, 2016
america 2016
america 2016
fiction
edward w pritchard
The stairs to the attic are rickety and covered and crowed with bric a brac making the climb tenuous so carrying new material goods up high for storage is fraught with danger. But the real peril starts when one has reached the top and must navigate the tongue in groove flooring that supports the entire structure of the house and nation. Long years of seasonal rains have shrunk the flooring supporting the structure as the roof leaks causing insidious danger to those who reach the top. Still every one wants to be on top though few actually make it.
There's many a dusty bag of broken Christmas lights and bulbs up there wrapped in moldy bags containing trite slogans from the bill of rights and other outdated trivia that no one reads anymore. There used to be cautions and warnings written on the Bills and papers from long dead and silenced ancestors but now everyone is too busy acquiring material things to listen to what the ancient one's had to say.
The cracks in the flooring supporting those up there at the top allow brief glimpses of the simple folk below. With certain alienated Majesty those who have made it to the top strain to remember what it was like down there. That's when the danger of falling is the greatest. Crashing through the invisible ceilings floor by floor until the entire house topples and falls smashing the old bags of dusty Christmas lights to smithereens and scattering the dust from the old bags the Bill of Rights was wrapped in to gently float about on the winds of Time unceremoniously disappearing into Ancient History as America goes topsy turvy.
fiction
edward w pritchard
The stairs to the attic are rickety and covered and crowed with bric a brac making the climb tenuous so carrying new material goods up high for storage is fraught with danger. But the real peril starts when one has reached the top and must navigate the tongue in groove flooring that supports the entire structure of the house and nation. Long years of seasonal rains have shrunk the flooring supporting the structure as the roof leaks causing insidious danger to those who reach the top. Still every one wants to be on top though few actually make it.
There's many a dusty bag of broken Christmas lights and bulbs up there wrapped in moldy bags containing trite slogans from the bill of rights and other outdated trivia that no one reads anymore. There used to be cautions and warnings written on the Bills and papers from long dead and silenced ancestors but now everyone is too busy acquiring material things to listen to what the ancient one's had to say.
The cracks in the flooring supporting those up there at the top allow brief glimpses of the simple folk below. With certain alienated Majesty those who have made it to the top strain to remember what it was like down there. That's when the danger of falling is the greatest. Crashing through the invisible ceilings floor by floor until the entire house topples and falls smashing the old bags of dusty Christmas lights to smithereens and scattering the dust from the old bags the Bill of Rights was wrapped in to gently float about on the winds of Time unceremoniously disappearing into Ancient History as America goes topsy turvy.
Friday, November 11, 2016
a new referee at Trump University
a new referee at Trump University
fiction
edward w pritchard
I keep pinching myself over and over as I walk around the majestic campus of Trump University. The grounds are spectacular. They say more beautiful than Versailles and more stately than the Taj Mahal gardens.
The loud speaker in the sky wakes me from my reverie. " some guys disrespect the game and they must enforceabally and early be effectively silenced." A second later I hear " There's no winner in a rent dispute, contracts are a guideline"
I thought I was in good shape but I have been walking around this huge circular main registration building for over an hour looking and looking for door c. They say the registration building is bigger by three times than Schonbrunn palace the Hapsburg's former home in Vienna. Maybe one day I will get invited to the Mansion. One can only dream.
There's door C, for Clinton, it was the Woman Mr. Trump defeated in an election twenty years ago. As if reading my mind the voice in the sky shouts " count net profits not votes".
Me a new freshmen. Who would have thought it at my age. We all have so much to learn.
fiction
edward w pritchard
I keep pinching myself over and over as I walk around the majestic campus of Trump University. The grounds are spectacular. They say more beautiful than Versailles and more stately than the Taj Mahal gardens.
The loud speaker in the sky wakes me from my reverie. " some guys disrespect the game and they must enforceabally and early be effectively silenced." A second later I hear " There's no winner in a rent dispute, contracts are a guideline"
I thought I was in good shape but I have been walking around this huge circular main registration building for over an hour looking and looking for door c. They say the registration building is bigger by three times than Schonbrunn palace the Hapsburg's former home in Vienna. Maybe one day I will get invited to the Mansion. One can only dream.
There's door C, for Clinton, it was the Woman Mr. Trump defeated in an election twenty years ago. As if reading my mind the voice in the sky shouts " count net profits not votes".
Me a new freshmen. Who would have thought it at my age. We all have so much to learn.
Thursday, November 10, 2016
New President Trump's welcome letter from a citizen
New President Trump's welcome letter from a citizen
fiction
edward w pritchard
Congratulations on your election in becoming our Country's new President. We wish you continued good health and continued success in your new assignment.
Tonight new President Trump consider all the light, heat and energy produced and consumed by all of the magnificent Properties throughout the World you own and manage. Additionally consider all of your employees and their families you have paternalistic-ally been responsible for as their employer over the last forty years of your life and the how you indirectly created the security that allowed your employees to thrive. Soon, President Trump you will be responsible in a similar way for the safety, security and to some extent welfare of over three hundred million Americans and indirectly as leader of the premier nation economically on Earth of the remainder of the six billion plus citizens of our planet. It is an awesome responsibility you have assumed.
New President Trump as you successfully manage the challenges and responsibilities of your new assignment and your Power grows exponentially as the one of the World's most important citizen's remember the Power of all the light, heat and energy produced and consumed by the trillions of stars and billions of galaxies across the vast and timeless universe and may you recognize our place in it all.
your humble follower
myself
fiction
edward w pritchard
Congratulations on your election in becoming our Country's new President. We wish you continued good health and continued success in your new assignment.
Tonight new President Trump consider all the light, heat and energy produced and consumed by all of the magnificent Properties throughout the World you own and manage. Additionally consider all of your employees and their families you have paternalistic-ally been responsible for as their employer over the last forty years of your life and the how you indirectly created the security that allowed your employees to thrive. Soon, President Trump you will be responsible in a similar way for the safety, security and to some extent welfare of over three hundred million Americans and indirectly as leader of the premier nation economically on Earth of the remainder of the six billion plus citizens of our planet. It is an awesome responsibility you have assumed.
New President Trump as you successfully manage the challenges and responsibilities of your new assignment and your Power grows exponentially as the one of the World's most important citizen's remember the Power of all the light, heat and energy produced and consumed by the trillions of stars and billions of galaxies across the vast and timeless universe and may you recognize our place in it all.
your humble follower
myself
Saturday, November 5, 2016
a view from the fertile crescent/ part 2 American Politics 2016
a view from the fertile crescent/ part 2 American politics 2016
fiction
edward w pritchard
Philosophical differences aside, politics are at base the pursuit of self interest and are opportunistic in character to the candidates involved and based on the Times and circumstances in question are always nauseating to survey and futile to discuss or explain. Suffer the little children.
fiction
edward w pritchard
Philosophical differences aside, politics are at base the pursuit of self interest and are opportunistic in character to the candidates involved and based on the Times and circumstances in question are always nauseating to survey and futile to discuss or explain. Suffer the little children.
A view from the fertile crescent circa 2000 BC on the 2016 American presidential election
A view from the fertile crescent 2000 BC on the 2016 American presidential election
fiction
edward w pritchard
How could someone not vote for either a Republican or Democrat for US President in 2016?
Me I am just trying to survive the last few years of my existence without being a raving fan of Politics and issues and opinions I have no control over. I seek to bloom where I am planted. I don't waive the flag nor do I burn it. I have seen a lot and understand a few things. I don't follow a self proclaimed enchanting leader.
Here's one of those this means that type little stories about the view from a ziggurat in ancient UR, in Mesopotamia circa 2000 BC that contains a kernel of wisdom of what I think is one's place in contemporary American society.
fiction
edward w pritchard
How could someone not vote for either a Republican or Democrat for US President in 2016?
Me I am just trying to survive the last few years of my existence without being a raving fan of Politics and issues and opinions I have no control over. I seek to bloom where I am planted. I don't waive the flag nor do I burn it. I have seen a lot and understand a few things. I don't follow a self proclaimed enchanting leader.
Here's one of those this means that type little stories about the view from a ziggurat in ancient UR, in Mesopotamia circa 2000 BC that contains a kernel of wisdom of what I think is one's place in contemporary American society.
surveying things from above eye level
surveying things from above eye level
fiction
Edward w Pritchard
The soldiers marched us a long way and didn't explain why we were selected and no one knew where we were going. I knew about soldiers. For some reason I wasn't fearful about being selected by the soldiers. I figured if the soldiers meant us harm we would know immediately by how they treated us. It seemed to me that we were selected more or less at random and the soldiers were following orders and taking us some where for someone important. Since we were marching toward Ur I figured it might concern the King's business because the soldiers were obviously an elite unit and well financed in their mission.
I had never surveyed things from above eye level. It is very flat in the village I lived my entire live in
The soldiers did not follow us up onto the Ziggurat. It is not permitted. Why myself and a few other common farmers and labors are permitted on the Ziggurat with the Priest's has not been explained to us. Like most of the others I have decided to make the best of my situation. We are well fed, the Priests are gracious and polite and the women that carry the food for us to eat are beautiful. I am a simple man; soon I know there will be a bill I must pay for being on the Ziggurat. Why worry now. We are guests of the Priest's but we are not allowed to leave.
The soldiers who brought us here wait below. Sometimes I watch them from one of the lower terraces for clues to my fate. They just act like typical soldiers, fighting and gambling in their time off, flirting with the girls bringing us the food when the officers aren't watching, and sleeping when not on duty.
It's odd to see the flat countryside from two hundred feet above. I have many strange dreams because of the different way of seeing things.
One of the other farmers who came here to be a guests of these Priests believes that a storm is coming in a day or two. He knows about weather from being a farmer. He thinks the Priest's want us to be on the top of the Ziggarat when a lightening storm strikes for a scientific experiment.
No matter the weather to me. I will just enjoy my good fortune. I am well fed by the Priests, I walk around and survey the world from two hundred feet above, I am protected by soldiers at government expense, beautiful girl's carry my food to me and I do not have to tip them.
Let the Devil worry about tomorrow's weather and lightening strikes, today I enjoy my life. I will try to bloom where I am planted
fiction
Edward w Pritchard
The soldiers marched us a long way and didn't explain why we were selected and no one knew where we were going. I knew about soldiers. For some reason I wasn't fearful about being selected by the soldiers. I figured if the soldiers meant us harm we would know immediately by how they treated us. It seemed to me that we were selected more or less at random and the soldiers were following orders and taking us some where for someone important. Since we were marching toward Ur I figured it might concern the King's business because the soldiers were obviously an elite unit and well financed in their mission.
I had never surveyed things from above eye level. It is very flat in the village I lived my entire live in
The soldiers did not follow us up onto the Ziggurat. It is not permitted. Why myself and a few other common farmers and labors are permitted on the Ziggurat with the Priest's has not been explained to us. Like most of the others I have decided to make the best of my situation. We are well fed, the Priests are gracious and polite and the women that carry the food for us to eat are beautiful. I am a simple man; soon I know there will be a bill I must pay for being on the Ziggurat. Why worry now. We are guests of the Priest's but we are not allowed to leave.
The soldiers who brought us here wait below. Sometimes I watch them from one of the lower terraces for clues to my fate. They just act like typical soldiers, fighting and gambling in their time off, flirting with the girls bringing us the food when the officers aren't watching, and sleeping when not on duty.
It's odd to see the flat countryside from two hundred feet above. I have many strange dreams because of the different way of seeing things.
One of the other farmers who came here to be a guests of these Priests believes that a storm is coming in a day or two. He knows about weather from being a farmer. He thinks the Priest's want us to be on the top of the Ziggarat when a lightening storm strikes for a scientific experiment.
No matter the weather to me. I will just enjoy my good fortune. I am well fed by the Priests, I walk around and survey the world from two hundred feet above, I am protected by soldiers at government expense, beautiful girl's carry my food to me and I do not have to tip them.
Let the Devil worry about tomorrow's weather and lightening strikes, today I enjoy my life. I will try to bloom where I am planted
Thursday, November 3, 2016
70,000 a month income the ennui of winning or losing
70,000 a month income the ennui of winning or losing
fiction
edward w pritchard
Learn we must, over time the ennui of winning or losing. It's monumentally important today pre- voting who wins the US Presidential election then in ten days hence we get the letdown. Whatever our skin color our lives matter only to us and our few true friends. It's the same thing with major league baseball. Pay a thousand or two for a ticket to the World series game and in a few days your team that you were a raving fan for begins it's marketing collusion's for next years once in a century spectacle.
Certainly goals are important to give our lives significance. But 15,000 steps a day on the Garmin watch as a prayer to keep your heart pumping another day or $70,000 a month of net income to keep in abeyance the fear of personal Poverty it's all the Same. Without the learned acquired spirituality of becoming that enables the individual to glean the few precious moments from life's cacophony of
existence- it is just a hollow race to oblivion.
Tempus-fugit true fellow Pilgrim.
Connected by Fate
fiction
edward w pritchard
Learn we must, over time the ennui of winning or losing. It's monumentally important today pre- voting who wins the US Presidential election then in ten days hence we get the letdown. Whatever our skin color our lives matter only to us and our few true friends. It's the same thing with major league baseball. Pay a thousand or two for a ticket to the World series game and in a few days your team that you were a raving fan for begins it's marketing collusion's for next years once in a century spectacle.
Certainly goals are important to give our lives significance. But 15,000 steps a day on the Garmin watch as a prayer to keep your heart pumping another day or $70,000 a month of net income to keep in abeyance the fear of personal Poverty it's all the Same. Without the learned acquired spirituality of becoming that enables the individual to glean the few precious moments from life's cacophony of
existence- it is just a hollow race to oblivion.
Tempus-fugit true fellow Pilgrim.
Connected by Fate
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)