DailyCreatedOOM #WrittenOOM 2023/05/30

Halls, dripping, and seeing out of the drops the jesters; their teeth shatter when their jaws strike the floor.

Halls, long walls, and from between the stones of the walls the fine threads stretched out, crisscrossing, shattered as the ankles wade ripping through them.

Bound, high, scored stones bound in iron ribbands, scored with writings readable to the learned after thousands of times.

Your foot there, then there: if your fingers are tired, rock them in place. The crevice of our natural frame will take us in; the fullness of halls wrapped and bound together for the dramatic critic.

Put your foot…

#DailyCreatedOOM #WrittenOOM 2023/05/30

DailyCreatedOOM #WrittenOOM 2023/05/21

Rail dark, shipping damp, sister of the moon in the filled pit of grimed nest.

Pallor tide, returned yarrow, oven mit on the flank of snorting catastrophes pulled along the strings.

Drifts on the sloped wedge clipped into long-limbed jungle and foreign creature forms: two on two for the ratty top that fell in two.

My long-limbed jungle and foreign daughter in and out the window, with a note in her pocket and a hair on her coat. Coils of the long tail pile warmly around, combed fur free of small creatures, and the suspicious lump in her hair.

Break on a flash of eyes, the ship pulls out of the wound, and long ago the coils of the hawser told the tale to withering ears, without mine again.

Dance of the flies over the surface of the grime, the throne and tangled crown for ivory images, dragged together for the lightless.

The blank period, cessation of travel, night.

#DailyCreatedOOM #WrittenOOM 2023/05/21

SabbathPosts 2023/05/20

“I do not ask for any crown
But that which all may win
Nor seek to conquer any world
Except the one within.”
– Louisa May Alcott

A quote I believe John Wooden may have liked.

The success he taught was of doing your absolute best. Giving 100%, because you cannot give more than 100%: if you give less, that value is lost forever.

“All that thine hand shall find to do, do it with all thy power: for there is neither work nor invention, nor knowledge, nor wisdom in the grave whither thou goest.” Ec 9

As it is always in our power to do our best, it is thus likewise always in our power to reject the sin that fills our hearts.

“There hath no temptation taken you but such as is common to man: but God is faithful, who will not suffer you to be tempted above that ye are able; but will with the temptation also make a way to escape, that ye may be able to bear it.” 1Cor 10

Thus every man is given an ironclad choice, and any who chooses to reject their sin will receive God through his cleansing mercy in Christ.

#SabbathPosts 2023/05/20

#DailyCreatedOOM #WrittenOOM 2023/05/18

Cheaper ferris drew of nightly yards, for pouting gaps in breaching shrouds.
Nick nick nicker nick, nick nick nicker nick, nick nick nick nicker, nick nick ticker tick…

Trounced by a six-legged cat; who buried the gravel in the sand? Never with this, a little with that, a frayed-edged nail, and skin off the back.

Baleens for cheap, who knew the trick; severed in regent claim for nothing we slightly wished. Dry drop of dust in the bottom edge of a pail, a infant moth blown to dust when it fell.
Trick trick fix, tricker six…

Shine after shine, and the slot-mouthed bird trumpets yet.

#DailyCreatedOOM #WrittenOOM 2023/05/18

SabbathPosts 2023/05/13

(From a conversation. 🙂 )

Indeed, as it is clear from a scriptural perspective that it is impossible for a part of your body to lead you into sin, this can only be referring to cutting off fellowship with evil men: “a companion of fools shall be destroyed”.

It is the pagan Gnostic idea that our physical bodies are intrinsically sinful, and actually tempt us as if they are separate sinners or demons. Paul uses the term “flesh” figuratively sometimes for sinful desires, saying the lusts of the flesh are various sins – not the desires of our actual physical bodies, such as desires for food and sleep.

The idea that our actual bodies are intrinsically evil is impossible to make agree with God’s Word, who made our bodies in his own image and called them very good before sin existed: the body is a Temple, which is why it should be veiled/clothed, and kept holy to God.

“So ought men to love their wives as their own bodies. He that loveth his wife loveth himself. For no man ever yet hated his own flesh; but nourisheth and cherisheth it, even as the Lord the church” Ep 5

We are to love our physical bodies the way Christ loves us, and on this is based the love of a husband!

To the above comment I would add this: the same applies to “the world”: it is some places in Scripture used figuratively to refer to the world of sinners because of their commonality and how they have defiled the world.

It is again an extrabiblically invasive idea to condemn the physical world as intrinsically bad. Again, when “world” refers to sinners, the “things of the world” are listed as various sins that are committed; Scripture never lists as evils the things of the actual physical world, such as mountains and trees and stars.

Again, the world was created by God for his glory and was called very good. Rather than being put down in Scripture, the world is the exaltation of God:

“For the invisible things of him from the creation of the world are clearly seen, being understood by the things that are made, even his eternal power and Godhead” Ro 1

“The heavens declare the glory of God; and the firmament sheweth his handywork. Day unto day uttereth speech, and night unto night sheweth knowledge. There is no speech nor language, where their voice is not heard.” Ps 19

God’s rebuke to Job could be summed up as, look at the world around you, and see me.

#SabbathPosts 2023/05/13

DailyCreatedOOM #WrittenOOM 2023/05/09

Throughout the upper floors they came upon many signs of the cultists’ presence: fair statues and paintings crudely altered, religious items defaced, sorcerous scrawls, rotting filth. Clothing, especially of children, they found slashed, scorched, and scattered. There was a small prayer book, and somehow all the writing had been turned backwards as if in a mirror. That rich and elegant mansion was like a dollhouse which had been infested by rats.

They found another cultist, sitting languidly in an armchair. He looked up at the inspector as if he recognised him.

“So you’ve come at last, and with your beautiful hound. Well, I have nothing to do; take me to my master.”

Allen put him in manacles and told him to come quietly.

“Happy to,” he said, smiled, and slumped forward. He was dead.

(Excerpt from a project nearing completion).

#DailyCreatedOOM #WrittenOOM 2023/05/09

2023/05/06 #SabbathPosts

I very much love Benjamin Franklin’s proverbs, so I thought I’d share one of those times I disagree with the sage.

“Fear not Death; for the sooner we die, the longer shall we be immortal.” – Benjamin Franklin from Poor Richard’s Almanack

Not so: we cannot reduce the time spent in eternity by one second by spending ten million more years on earth. Hence, I would rather spend ten million more years on earth, enduring the evil, patiently waiting for heaven, for it is only on earth that we lay up treasure in heaven. God himself lived as a mortal man on earth to lay up the treasures in heaven to give us. Indeed, it is our very desire for the good life in heaven that is why we should desire a good life in earth: the more we desire the one, the more we desire the other. If God so grants the blessing to me, I would live till he returns, and never miss a year doing good in this evil world by simply waiting in death for the resurrection.

It is only in heaven that we can enjoy the true treasure,
But only on earth can we lay up true treasure in heaven.

I’m sure Franklin understood that time spent on earth does not reduce time in heaven: his proverb is part in jest, and my wording as well. I disagree specifically with the inplication that “the sooner we die the better”, which is akin to saying it were better to never be born. This life has a great purpose: that purpose is heaven. The purpose of this temporal life is eternity, thus this temporal life is of eternal value.

I once read in a book by Chaim Potok something along these lines: comparing a lifetime to eternity, it is only the blink of an eye: but I realised that the significance of it was not in the duration of the blink, but in the eye that blinks.

Obviously, I agree with Benjamin on “fear not death”. 🙂 Though perhaps for a different reason.
It is Yahweh that gives the blessing of life, and it is only him we should fear, and tremble lest we displease him.

2023/05/06 #SabbathPosts

2023/05/05 #DailyCreatedOOM #WrittenOOM

Cairo sought the bright bargain hill; my sere foundling shore the merry make-bate.

While we wait in peril under this wall, my tower sees us from the vale of woven webs; night clothes us in our minds, and sheds the wall from us behind.

Make a grain of pencilled fame, and pour the drink in martial gravity, the webbings close the times for all. Dressed in jeans and loose white shirt, he crouches in the hollow place of clay who has the face; and the grain of thousands found him there, and now we find him everywhere.

Never useless matters rain on unbared heads; with horn and trumpet blasts the storm to strip us from our beds: a harsher master born on bargain hill.

2023/05/05 #DailyCreatedOOM #WrittenOOM

2023/05/04 #DailyCreatedOOM #WrittenOOM

CLICK CLICK There’s an angle I had not thought of.

Chairs under a blinking night of sky, trills of the evening shadow under combs of twigs. Spacial trials seeded in numberless wind take the stairs unbeginning.

Might artisanal is in the circuit of the spaceman helmet where it seals to the suit; on it depends the swinging branch of the old clock.

The carpet under our sandals, and under our legs as we sit, is rough. The thick paper stretched on the nearby walls is storied with scars, ladders of stitches, banks of blots. The hot electric bulb swings patiently, warping our shadows like the little waves of the large tide. The window is painted over, but the paint is peeling in one corner: showing nothing.

Marriage of the beam with the corner, folded legs in kerchiefs and fringes, baskets of woven nettle.

Free steam gunning over the ramp, the tripod of three temples hears the

CLICK CLICK And there it is again.

2023/05/04 #DailyCreatedOOM #WrittenOOM