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Pieces

Pieces

Pieces of love we thought was through
Pieces of love I find in you that cry
Never to die for love never ends it only
Begins again planted in the last remains
Pain that remains to mellow the heart
No one to blame, no shame, no strain
Just a spark , easier on a cold heart to
Kindle a smolder on a warm part than
Starting dead cold each time again as
We let it go and let it catch hold or out
It becomes an easy chair, a touch, a
Song or just an easy conversation no
Rush, no hurry, just a little extraordinary.
Quiet excitement till next time we meet

Carl James
3-11-17

Going Home

Going Home

 

Flowers edge the road, orange, pink, violet, white

Roads sprinkled with dogwood, pine, curving on

Themselves, swooping down, down, into valleys

Hollows filled with clear water, flint and limestone

Turning to cliffs, deep pools, falls, boil-up springs,

Abandoned maintenance roads, turning to dirt

Clearing, house strikingly similar to the original,

Thought sensitively given to preserve memories, of

My father and sisters, the old oak tree, the cellar with

initials dusk bringing flocks of turkey, deer, here to pay

Homage to the memories magnified by simplicity and stillness.

 

Carl James

12-5-16

Music

Music

 

Hollow logs, wood flutes, voices in chant

Rants in rythmn, offered to appease gods

Boom, boom, awwwwwwww, awww, huh, huh,

Ummm-chuka, bodies sway, then they pray

Songs for rain, play fertility, animals slain

 

Orchestras, rock, benedictions, renditions

Voices in perfect harmony sooths the soul

Unifies the enemies, creating love, joy

Tames the beast, calls the sheep, weep

Memories to keep, joyful praise, voices raised

 

Bach, Cohen, Little Richsrd, Kitaro  tomorrow,

Pentatonix, Abba , Rolling Stones on the phone

Gig, gig, gig, folk, ethnic, EEEEEurithmics

Stereophonic, harmonic, a capella, viola!

Bag pipes, mog synthesizers, opera, jammin’

Brings us to celebrate life, death, love, sorrow

 

Carl James

11-20-16

Life Flows

Life Flows

 

I am but a receptor for the stream of  life

Flowing around and  through me

No man is an inland but some reside on the

Highest point where they remain aloof to

Interchange with the stream around them

Let the young, the old, the poor, the rich,,

Culturally and racially different dwell for

Life is rich with nutrients, stimulation, variety,

Welcome with open arms coves of refuge and

Food for their sols reviving interchanges, flexibility

A dynamo ever-changing shore is healthy, loving

Bastions of relationships rise unchanging

Stagnant yet rocked with internal quakes

Ending catastrophically at our feet never the same

You rose a tiny islet built on love and

One day you will let go of the last root

Becoming a part of the stream again

Hold your self pliable, ever dynamic changing

Love will undoubtedly look for you here.

 

Carl James

11-19-16

The Space Between

 

The Space Between

What is the space between you and I?

That burns bright in the star-lit night

Love , passion we hope each other feels

Afraid to immerse where sacredness dwells

Is it an ancient path where we dwell?

Knowing our souls in freedom swelled

Knowing love eternal our hearts did meld.

An old melody lost in our moment in time

Words gone in memories excited anew

Song of the earth with life do renew

Perhaps we dwelt in the universal realms

Where love light streams in star dust time

Trust the instinct aligned in heavenly rhyme.

Harmonies of earth and our own new lines.

Carl James

11-1-16

Responsse to JJohn Jefferie’s article on LinkedIn

3

John Jeffries

Christian Author, Novelist, Poet & Blogger

SO, WHAT HAVE BEEN YOUR REASONS FOR NOT ACCEPTING JESUS “

The above article and message has appeared on LinkedIn and I felt that site not appropriate for a career related site so I chose to publish my response this on my web site.

 

First of all, I am not a Christian hater but I feel many of the ways they approach recruitment to be unhealthy.

I resent this being published on a work recruitment site

 

I was born and raised as a son of a Church of Christ preacher where we attended church three times a week, went every night at meetings and read the bible at least once a week so I come with some experience.

 

My earlier childhood was an attempt to control me based on fear and guilt. It appeared I was headed for a church-filled life and at the age of 11-12 was already doing a little preaching. Around 13-14 I went through much emotional turmoil as I became sexually aware and again guilt/fear was used to reinforce my parents’ restrictive approach to sex, dancing, cursing, etc. I lived in constant fear and felt unworthy of god and my parents.

 

Then I became angry as I realized I was brig manipulated and refused church at the age of 13. I have spent a good part of my life in therapy dealing with guilt, fear and feelings of unworthiness

 

I watched people like me return to their church but, as a result of therapy and a life time of personal contemplation I increasingly moved in the other direction. I deem myself ready to respond to above.

 

First of all, my question to the question why aren’t more people Christian? I believe a simple definition to a Christian is “a follower of the teachings of Jesus Christ.” People groups claiming Christianity include Catholic, Greek Orthodox, Eastern Orthodox, Seventh day Adventists, Mormons, Episcopalians, Lutherans, Pentecostal, Baptist including Southern, Nazarenes,  Church of Christ, Methodists, etc., etc.

 

Many believe the path to redemption, and heaven can be achieved only through their sect. Some…Methodists, Episcopalians, etc. take a less rigid approach to the have-to’s. Some even question the divinity of Jesus.

 

Christianity has, first, a history of being persecuted and struggle to exist. Then Constantine became a Christian and away we go.

 

It’s sordid history include the decadence, incest, and general power of the middle ages popes. The graft, atrocities, immorality, are many. Then we have the inquisition, the holy wars against Moslem influence and to take back the holy land, etc. Then the Spaniards come to the new world and with extreme cruelty and force, turn the southern hemisphere to Catholicism. In all cases indigenous people are subjugated and decimated by war, new diseases, including STD’s small pox, influenza, leprosy, and general removal. This is all done under the auspices of saving their souls .

 

My belief is we took many beautiful groups of people who had achieved a state of harmonious living with the land and life they occupied and removed their self-esteem and purpose as a key to their environment.

 

Some years back, partly as a result of my personal struggles and studies, my concept of god began to change. First, I went through an agnostic period with lots of anger at a deity who, at a whim, let someone die, acquire terrible diseases, etc. Then I professed atheism for a while and now I’m a religious mongrel who believes if there is a thing we can really name ( I am that I am, Yaweh, etc. it must be a moving, ever evolving, ever changing force that we and everything else is a part of. But, this way of living leaves the work  and responsibility with each of us. It kicks us out of the nest.

 

James Cavanaugh, in his poem. “My Easy God Is Gone” says he once knew what god wanted and expected and now he is alone with his choices. The question….are you tough and free enough to go to the intuition in you or do you need an outside god?

 

Here I stand, a new earthly inhabitant and in immigration I am presented with a catalog, Current Available Religions of the World , must pick one or check “undecided”. There are representatives sitting around the large room. In one corner sits a Buddhist monk meditating in the lotus position. At the opposite corner a Southern Baptist Church minister points his finger at a cowering immigrant…”if you don’t do these things you’ll burn in hell!”….hmmmmm, which to pick…?????

 

Carl James

9-10-16

 

Your Touch

Your Touch

 

Your touch, a hearty slap on the back.

Your  touch, a feathery  touch on the arm

May send electric passion through the lines

Your touch, a brush of lips on lips

Sends me through heavens doors  to adore

Intimacy new in your feelings for this man.

Gentle touch of a new born child’s hand

Hope for tomorrow in this troubled land

Perhaps a new consciousness across the span

Time forgotten, time where man did not plan

A new respect for the land on which we stand.

A new touch, spreading can begin again

A touch of the human heart spirit and soul.

Oneness with all life, cast the seed to the winds

A connection, new awareness, life we know.

 

Carl James

8-4-16

The End of the Day

The End of the Day

As the Earth gathers  the  light

Bundles harvested for another

Day of living and loving or will

Fear steal your heart,  a thief of

Security, hope,  warmth, love?

Will I see you, silhouette in the door?

Will your heart bleed guilty tears?

Will you flee to someone instead?

With promises no heart ache led.

In lies of the hearts of men who

Care not if your grandmother

Died  yesterday, nor cry with you

On your dead brother’s birthday

Love , sincerity of the heart a

Willingness for a brand new start

I stand before you ready to love

A day timeless in our lives where

We work together, hold hands

Lost in kind warm eyes of desire

Alight in sunset, new day on fire.

Carl James

7-29-16

There Are Those, In Mem ory of Dave Sturtevant

There Are Those

 

There are those who amble through life

Ever observant of where they live each

Moment a new chapter in the soul within

Each encounter a new friend to gather in.

 

There are those born a seamless transition

Into the world we know for it was theirs

Everyone was told on a higher plain that

Already  knew the sweet refrain we, in vain

 

Searching all our lives for a  part to sing

In harmony he already knew his part on earth

Gladly his heart was open for anyone to see

An ambassador of the earth  to show to heal

 

His essence is the earth, rock, soil, water with-in

While tears given to pay his respect do not neglect

Yet I think Dave was born to a brand new world as

Setting in our West his new East began, again

 

Perhaps he’ll honor  with a memory of you,

me, we together on a wave trying to help a few

Souls ferry effortlessly  over a new riffle

His kindness will sooth you and his gentle

 

Mist of morning will lift your heart to sing

 

In memory of Dave Sturtevant

Carl James

7- 25-16