Posted by: John | May 8, 2018

Blind Date

Billy Reynolds sat at a corner table at Mojo’s, a quiet little out-of-the way-place, waiting on an internet blind date. Since he’d become more than a little bored in his marriage, he’d chosen a dating site based only on user names and basic info, but no photographs, like the old newspaper ads of his youth. He sat sipping his coffee and glancing at his watch every few minutes. After a brief check of his text messages, he looked up to see a young woman opening the door: Sally, his 20-year-old daughter. He laughed nervously at her shocked expression, then blurted out: “Perfect! You’re just the one to spend an afternoon strolling with me at the zoo.”

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Posted by: Lisa | May 1, 2018

Spirit and Sex

Some recent authors have tried to imply that Jesus and Mary Magdalene were actually married or lovers, etc. I seriously doubt they had sex, but I think they loved each other on a deep spiritual level. I believe the same was true with St. Francis and St. Clare in the 13th century; and St. John of the Cross and St. Teresa of Avila in the 16th century.

This stuff is real. There’s something very profound about loving another person deeply and completely, yet choosing to refrain from sexual intercourse. The presence of the person of the opposite sex helps to balance the masculinity and femininity within a person. This leads to a sense of wholeness, a sense of being strong/complete/fulfilled as a person. In other words, we already have everything we need inside ourselves, but the presence of the other person helps us actually experience our wholeness. We don’t need to grasp or possess the other person to be fulfilled.

Posted by: Lisa | April 24, 2018

The Cider Mill

My poem, “The Cider Mill,” which used to be available online at Every Day Poets:

Autumn air, crisp as apples, warm and yet not –
Every year, the cider visits.

Ah, to stuff plucked fruit
into brown paper bags
and watch machines smash apples
to quench more
than a mortal thirst.

Machines as in monasteries
of my past life, powered
by water carried in wooden tiers – Falling
droplets prick my skin in shaded gardens.

Sweet, ecstatic cider swirls
into my contented cup.

Posted by: John | April 9, 2018

Final Speech

Adjunct speech professor, Bill Bilsky, observed his class of Airmen from the local Air Force base as they filed into the classroom for their final speech of the semester at the community college. As the first student shuffled up to the podium, Bilsky’s supervisor, Dr. Caldwell, took a seat at the back of the room to evaluate performances. Bilsky gave him a nod.

The roomful of challenging, worldly-wise students managed to impress both Caldwell and Bilsky with well-polished speeches. The final student, Harold, seemed glued to his seat.

Professor Bilsky stood up and walked toward the back of the room. “Harold, give us your best speech now.”

As Harold, with downcast eyes, shuffled up to the front of the room with an armful of papers, Bilsky sat down next to his boss and whispered, “I never know what to expect from this guy.”

Harold looked directly at his audience, cleared his throat, and paused. He then unzipped his pants, removed his penis, waved it around to the right and the left for all to see, put it back in his pants, and returned to his seat.

As everyone else held their breath, Caldwell exhaled: “Well, that’s the best ‘F’ I’ve ever seen.”

Posted by: John | February 23, 2018

Final Approach

In the early days of aviation, airports were of necessity built in secluded areas. Cemeteries were already there. Then came automobile wrecking yards. Many airports have grave yards and wrecking yards nearby.

I was once shooting touch-and-goes with a student at Navy Chambers over the cemetery.  We were on base to final approach for Runway 28 when we felt an unexpected bump. “What was that?” the student asked. I nearly said it was a soul making its way to heaven.

Posted by: John | January 10, 2018

I Can’t Lose

Living in Norfolk, Virginia, the blizzard of ’18 was a challenge for me. I couldn’t drive because the roads were clogged with snow. I had enough food for a couple of days. Monday I decided to walk the nine blocks to IHOP for a brunch. The ground was still treacherous in many spots, covered in snow and ice. Since I have some hearing and balance issues, I was being very careful walking back home. Crossing 27th street, a couple helped me across the street. Then a man in an SUV picked me up and took me the rest of the way home. I was impressed and very grateful. But it occurred to me: With God looking out for me and with Lisa’s prayers, I can’t lose.

Posted by: Lisa | December 11, 2017

As Above, So Below

Mother Nature speaks in green
always, then more gold and red
in autumn. Weeping willows may
be her hair and rivers
her arteries. Her many children,
birds and fish and beasts,
frolic in woods, on beaches, even
in city cemeteries. They speak
and dance and nurture their young.
Do I notice, do I listen? Or, am I
too busy trying to earn money
to pay for my own survival?

God says give up all worries,
listen to the heart more
than the head to find Truth
and Beauty and unending Love.
Prayer does not require words.
Prayer is presence to the Presence
that never vanishes, that lives above
and below, inside and outside. See?
Nature and the Divine are one, like
two sides of a coin, like the clam’s
bivalve shell resting at water’s edge:
as above, so below.

Approach the Divine through the objects
of Nature. And find deep connection
and love of Nature by listening
to the Creator. Pray with the breath,
the heartbeat. Pray with holy texts
or with crayons. Pray by dancing
or singing. Or. Sit. In silence. Listen:
“Be still and know that I am God.”*
Where are you, God?
“As above, so below. Be.” Amen. OM… OM… OM…

* Psalm 46:10

Posted by: John | October 29, 2017

At the Airport

Watched a bit of a breeze cat’s paw
the wind sock under a faint autumn
afternoon half moon, wondered how many
more touch and goes I have left.
Will I leave more than I took?

Posted by: John | October 13, 2017

Seeking

I lie me down to find
where the mattress meets the mind
an answer of some kind.

Posted by: Lisa | October 9, 2017

Connections

Right here, now, the time
to listen: My heart opens
in nourishing silence
as each step I take blossoms
with the words, I am home.

I am breathed by Life.
My task each moment
is mindfulness of the breath
which ebbs and flows, exists
as the eternal tides within,
embraces both waves and foam.

Little daily consolations morph
easily into desolations when I cling
in desperation to mortal love.
My heart, though, longs for something
more, and can be taught not to roam.

Love expresses in five languages.
For me, it’s about time – oh yes,
quality time: Being, appreciating, offering
smiles and companionship. Making connections
in conscious caring, love beacons to dear
ones as the cathedral’s golden dome.

We understand each other since we have
the same needs: freedom, protection, identity,
affection, leisure and more. I am a link in this human
chain capable of extending outward and holding others
in deep respect. My eyes, heart and soft speech say:
Welcome home.

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