The Tailwind

 

The Tailwind

(by R.P.Edwards)

The tailwind "there"

Or tailwind "back"

One be tight

The other slack

So, if I had my druthers 

Which one to track

I'd rather have

The tailwind "back"...

It usually goes with little notice; the waving of the flags. But to those of us with wind-affected craft (in my case, a bicycle) it could mean much. From the windchill to the effort needed to traverse home, a few miles per hour makes a difference. And thus the tailwind (pushing you towards your destination) or headwind (pushing against your efforts) are a part of life.

Nothing terribly deep here. In the "going" there is sometimes struggle, or ease. And, of course, "struggle" produces endurance and experience. And ease can bring an illusionary "rest," if not balanced with the other.

So, since many of you are well acquainted with "struggle," may tailwinds be yours in greater frequency. AND, when others see the collective "we" come into the room, may they expect a delightful tailwind to ease their delicate stay on this earth.

The poem continues...

...For going, verve is on my side

Muscles ready

Born to ride

But with the struggle

The weary tack

Towards home I'd druther

The tailwind back.

PS The flags in the photo above are outside the city hall of Granite City Illinois.  This town has an interesting history which was birthed by the need for reliable steel. A song and video was inspired by the journey of the up and coming metropolis. Thus:

The Oath Pill

 

The Oath Pill

(by R.P.Edwards)

What if oaths were a pill to take

Along with the words we solemn make

That would stay inside throughout our "time"

And with promises kept, we'd feel just fine

In fact, they'd help us in our healthy walk

In body and soul as we act and talk...

A lot of "oaths" have been given and taken lately. Understandable, considering the new administration has many deserving folk to appoint to important positions. I notice they're all (the oaths, that is) pretty much the same (except for the President's; his was different). Along with the words it involves the raising of the right hand and the placing of the left on the Bible. The solemn utterance concludes with, "So help me God."

Now, may I make a casual and obvious observance that the "oath" is only as good as the oath takers perception of things. In other words; the meaning is subjective. Case in point: there will no doubt be offered Federal legislation that will require proof of citizenship and paper ballots so that elections will be more fraud resistant. Without question many (very many) of those who have "sworn" to "defend" the US Constitution will vote against this "no-brainer" of an act. In other words: the oath is meaningless.

Of course, there are other "oaths" that carry little weight these days (marriage?), but there's no need to drag on. Perhaps the solution to our "dilemma" of duty is NOT in a pill; but rather in education. Teach the tots the importance of honor and honesty, and by all means steer them away from Ivory Towers that have forgotten the basics.

The poem continues.

...But of course, the opposite would then be true

Breaking faith would be an act we'd rue

For we'd turn bright green from the inner pain

And its obvious cause would add more shame

But this end might assist our choices make

Yes, if oaths were a pill we had to take.

****  

FIXER NOT

 FIXER NOT

(by R.P.Edwards)

J-B Weld and Duct Tape

The fixer for the few

For those devoid of workshops

And the skills to simply "do"...

I laid "old reliable" on the dining room table and assessed "her" condition. Yes, a snow shovel, but one of venerable years and without-thought reliability. But now she had cracks and was on the verge of a terminal fracture.

The setting: a snowstorm of significant measure had dumped 10+ inches of snow (and a smattering of sleet) on our mid-western (more on the southern side of the MW) heads. Mind you, I had been passing by displays of "new" shovels for weeks; ignoring these since I had a ready supply at home. Alas, my "supply" consisted of an "old" disfigured one that had quickly died under the strain and another that was more of a "pusher," not a scooper. So, I sought to resuscitate and revitalize the ancient workhorse using the tools of the somewhat inept.

J-B Weld is a wonderful Epoxy type goop. Two tubes of stuff; one a "hardener" (white) the other the "steel" (black). When mixed together in equal amounts they make a grayish glob that will be a strong bond when applied correctly. You don't have a lot of time so I slathered quickly. A few strips of Duct Tape (I chose white this time) and the repair was done. The old one survived, with many more seasons of "Heave-ho, the snow must go" in her future (I hope).

One might ask, "Why didn't you just buy another?" Well, just as "Bread, milk, and eggs" disappear from the grocery isles at a storm's approach (the French Toast effect), so too, the shovels vanish. 

The Poem continues:

...But we all can't be mechanics

Strong of mind with calloused hide

So it's J-B Weld and Duct Tape

And perhaps Vice-Grips...on the side.

Addendum:  It's been a long time since I added to this "Blog." I was rather excited at its beginning in 2009. I was laid off at the time and I thought its title "The layoff letters," was rather clever. And so I wrote and wrote; of things serious and benign; being sure to include with each a simple poem. And then hibernation set in (perhaps due to such low readership). No matter. I'm glad you're here and there's an enormous archive if you're interested in such things.

         

 

 

The Death of Trek (almost)

 

Star Trek Remorse

(by R.P.Edwards)

"To boldly go"

And we went too

We followed Kirk

And his loyal crew

Beyond the stars

To worlds unknown

To stretch our minds

Beyond our home...

Being of the generation that actually saw, and waited weekly for the original Star Trek television series to air, I, though rather young at the time, became a fan. Not an obsessed follower, but definitely a fan. 

I'm not totally sure as to all the "whys" of the attraction. But the makeup and chemistry of the cast and the sometimes noble aspirations of the storyline, all clothed in a hopeful future, was definitely alluring. Yes, it was a wannabe yearning vehicle for the hopelessly earthbound and I was most definitely among those who wanted the show reborn and, through movies and subsequent series...it was.

Well, life happens, and my interest and opportunity, for the most part, waned. I did rather enjoy the "Next Generation," and "Deep Space Nine" also had my attention. But, since then it's been hit and miss. Now, decades later, and with a Paramount subscription available I thought I'd give "Picard" a try. I sampled season one and bailed quickly due to lack of interest. Then, months later, I gave season two a taste. AND, at first it was interesting and smacked a bit of the former formula. And then, the leftward ideological infusion surfaced and I couldn't stomach the incessant "talking points" that moved seamlessly from the mainstream media and academia to the actor's mouth. And, though I still had a tugging to somehow touch base with characters from the past, even with the tepid strategy of just watching the catch-up summation segments which aired before each new episode (until the last program, of course) I still could not escape the clear message that the writers, producers, and actors conveyed to middle America, which is...To Hell with You.

So, alas, much of what "was" Star Trek is dead; at least to me. And, of course, I'm sure the "new" formulators don't care what I think. I certainly wouldn't if I were they. But, may I make a suggestion? In the future, when the "certainties" of your course become uncertain; perhaps you could boldly go "back" to what works.

The poem continues...

...But that time is past

There's no place for "we"

No place for "truths"

That ALL could see

Just a steady push

From a foreign bed

So the Trek we loved

Is alas, quite dead...

****

Update:

Well, it's been almost 5 months to the day since my somewhat scathing and downcast account (above) of what the "Star Trek" universe has become. And then...I decided to give "Picard's" last season a try. Why? Well, I was enticed by the promise of the reintroduction of most of the "Next Generation's" cast. And, since "these" were a somewhat pleasant part of my "then" life; I was hoping they would not be forced to be carriers of the modern "woke" theology and simply be involved in an engaging romp and perhaps tug on a heartstring or two.  Mission accomplished. Without being overly analytical as to how everyone reappeared, there was, once again, the proper mix of overwhelming odds and overcoming do; with humor and tender emotions on the edges and interlaced. Well done. 

So, I have hope. AND, since this is a backtrack of sorts, I've added the "almost" to the title, and another verse to the poem seems appropriate. Thus:

...But wait!

There's a beep!

The heart gives its tell

Perhaps there's a turn

Perhaps all is well!

So let's wait and attend

And postpone the sure grave

And if the physicians are wise

Here's a life they can save

****

Reality

Reality

(by R.P.Edwards) 

Reality is

That we are His

And He knows how to keep

So as we go

A tempered woe

An abbreviated weep

For unlike those

In hopeless throes

Our parting's a brief delay

This gentle night

A brief respite

Before His brilliant, eternal day

As comes with the territory of aging (I suppose), I seem to attend more funerals than weddings of late. 

A recent one involved the passing of a dear saint (as in, believer in Jesus) in her 90's. I hadn't spoken to her in years but I'm sure her faith hadn't wavered and her entrance into the direct presence of the Savior she loved was (and is) a joyous one.  

However, sadness at the separation is natural, but for those who "know" it really is only a temporary goodbye. That's why "knowing" is key. The minister at the funeral was careful to supply the directions.

Well, a song arose from the experience and the thought came to sing it in two languages. Since I'm only fairly proficient in one (English, American version), I needed help with the other (Spanish). Google translate was useful but, through a divine linkage a kind coworker fine-tuned the vocabulary and pronunciation. The youtube link is above. I pray it does some good for those in need.

****

Master of the Sea, we look to you

 

 

 

 

 

Integrity

(by R.P.Edwards)

 

Integrity in short supply

Though winds and waves bombard

Though "ease" and "grace"

Speak face to face

And whisper, "It's too hard."

Though "others" bend

Yet do not end

And excuses rise and fall

Integrity will stay the course

Having surrendered simply...all. 

I have an older brother, Bill, who, from my memories of him (post Christ) is steeped in...integrity. One area of his resolve was his long waiting for a mate. No compromise. No squishy Christian relativism. But a determined "holding on" to the mighty Savior and His faithfulness. It took a while but--years in the making--a wonderful, godly woman became his wife. They have been blessed with three "mighty in God" offspring. 

Well, there was a suggestion that perhaps a "song" about these dynamic two could be made. It was a lighthearted aside...but I think the Lord thought otherwise. Thus, with God's help and to His glory the above song was made. I hope it is a blessing to them...and others. Thanks for viewing. 

****

Evil is NOT okay

 

 

 Evil's Okay

(by R.P.Edwards)

 

Evil's okay

Says the wicked on high

Evil's okay

Say the R's who don't try

Evil's okay

Say the three lettered shills

Evil's okay

Says the "doctor" who kills

Evil's okay

Says the watchdog gone mad

Evil's okay

Say the jurists gone bad

Evil's okay

Say the media snakes

Evil's okay 

Say the "blues" on the take

Evil's okay

Say the Unions "in spite"

Evil's okay

Say execs from their heights

Evil's okay

Say the clergy who bow

Evil's okay

Said as teachers kowtow...

 

 

 

The photo above, taken of a framed remembrance of my C-vid encounter, seems appropriate as, at this writing the Supreme Court is sought to restrain the madness of the "supposed" leader of our country.

Oh, it was an interesting experience (my bout with "it"). Like many (most) I survived. Yes, it was troubling; mainly because we've been "told" of the seriousness of the "NOT" swine flu. "A killer!" they opined (and opine). AND, of course it certainly can be, especially when medications that COULD help...are forbidden (much could be written on this). But, with answered prayer and wise supplements and actions...it passed.

 

But now, today. 

 

As this offering is written the Highest Court in the land is sought to remedy the incredible overreach of those who insist ALL bend and be injected with the barely tested vac-ine that somehow doesn't really act like one (see "measles" and other vac-ines that actually work). They're adamant, driven, and frankly, reckless in their pursuit. AND, since so many are willfully persuaded that lawlessness is an acceptable means to an end...the END...is in sight.

And so, as company executives (many) prepare to joyously (let's be honest) stick it (no pun intended) to those who butter their bread; AND as many workers drag their steel toed shoes in the sand to create the line they simply WILL NOT cross; it's a time for heroes and cads. We've certainly had plenty of the latter, but now it's time for backbones to stiffen and the evil of this age, before it is passed to our children...to be dealt with.

The poem concludes, 

...Yes, evil's okay

Say the many, en masse

BUT GOD SAYS

NO...IT'S NOT

****