Category: Uncategorized

He did not come to be the social agenda man making all things good becasue of tolerance and hip, cool, sayings.

There is nothing to contradict or refute his teaching and it is up to us to remember what he did once we stop trying to turn heroes into heroes that they never were in the first place.

He called to repentance, not to moral independence.

He spoke of attaining forgiveness and to turn back to the Almighty, not adherence to crooked paths with hearts remaining untidy.

he did not reject the lowly ones who were rejected by everyone else, anyone who walked away after speaking to him were either relieved or ready to beat him with a leather belts.

He never kept a record of wrongs in the sense that he was out to avenge, some who heard him disagreed and later sought revenge.

Still, he pressed on with people who needed his message, now a good part of his message is blown apart as idiots sift through the wreckage.

All things are not moral and moral things are not all things.

Some actions move us away from God while others bring us closer, recognizing how wrong you are and seeking repentance is much more pleasing to God than celebrtating how righteous you are.

To sit in the back and adore the altarand to pray with your downcast eyes and to ask God for forgiveness has more meaning than all the sacramental prayers that with neither forward or dowencast eyes can see that God dwells into places we amy never know and whathe knows most of us have forgotten even inout best times.

The ways and means by which we approach God and all the riches that we take for granted contradict something that should be so simple.

Truth is not changeable by our opinion or an uncomfortable feeling caused by our inability to speak it.

No one is worthy,

change is needed by all,

what good is tolerance and making motions ot people who are incapable of seeing the truth,

“REPENT”,

was called out well before Jesus came and before he ever forgave anyone,

this was done to fullfill all righteousness,

so that we would know the road had become a dead end,

and that we would have the sense to turn around.

The righteous have no need for soul saving.

Their souls have already stated the claim that recognition of wrong is enough, God will always be on their side.

The advertise all the good they have done.

(only those other people need to turn around, their own ancetry will save themn by virtue of their birth.)

All those founding fathers that have come down from us from on high and from those Ivory Towers and the ones who choose to stay once they fell have learned a lesson that most will never get.

T.S. Deary

10/12 – 12/28/21

I noticed the moon, the harvest moon, hanging in the sky right before sunrise.

The rising sunbravely illuminating the hay field still waiting to be cut and bailed.

The scene unfolded as I drove by and was burned into my mind.

Aiden asked me if I noticed the moon with his voice registering surprise.

So huge, its’ majesty unvieled.

Driving, we both remarked on its’ perfect circular shape, taking it in between us, this magical, celestial find.

The scene was so perfect that we wanted to stop and take a picture but decided that would be unwise.

If we kept the scene alive and in turn just between us, then the memory made would follow us forever, unlike the dimming moon, never becoming paled.

Moving on we left the scene behind.

All day long I thought of what we saw and reflected on the way time flies.

And how time holds us as if jailed.

We each return to where we came from, young and old in kind.

T.S. Deary

P.A.F.M. 10/31 – 12/21/21

Penitential #1

Lord, the God of my Fathers and of heaven and earth.

I am a desolate man, I hang my head in shame and despair.

The enemy gloats over me and holds my past up to my conscience, whispering that I can never change.

Hace mercy on me O Lord for I have sinned against you with my mouth and with my thoughts and there is nothing I deserve more than for you to turn your face away from me.

I am the most wrertched of men.

My dreams have escaped from me because I have offended you.

My rage and anger have hurt the ones I love and now they turn their backs on me.

My children have slammed doors on me,

Once, I was held in high esteem and now I am a nobody.

My bleasings have turned against me.

Lord, turn your heart to you and my gaze to heaven.

Heal my heart and bring me back to the joy of love and esteem.

Let me hear my daughter laugh and call me in her sweet voice once again.

Let the heart that you have allowed to burst with hurt be filled with joy and happy again.

Turn my heart from rage and my life will know peace again, fill my hear with peace and my life will be used to glorify you Oh Lord!

Lament #1 

My God, my God, why does she hate me?

Why does she slam the door of her heart and give me no reply when I plead?

You have always answered my prayers and poured your blessings down over me, in my darkest hours you have always answered me.

You have raised me from the pit of despair and placed me high upon your mountain.

Yet, my heart is torn in two!

My daughter has disowned me and she acts as if i am no one.

She swears that I am no one to her and she moves about to ignore me, she makes rude and disrespectful comments under her breath,

she bites my tongue with disdain and my heart is broken all to pieces.

I confess to you my God that I know what part O have played in this and I beg for forgiveness.

My anger and impatience has added to this and only you can forgive and heal.

Lord, heal me and grant me your pardon and peace.

Send me my daughter back and heal my broken heart, send hte gems of my broken crown back to sit upon my head and let her be the brightest gem of all.

You, Lord are enthroned on high and can do all things.

I trust in You, the great I AM.

You brought your servant back to life and you are holy forever.

Praise God!

Lament #5

God, Adonai, God of Moses and Abraham,

Father of Jesus, the Holy One of Israel,

maker of heaven and earth, hear my prayer, my earnest plea,

my heart cries out to you for mercy and assistance.

(God is Good.)

The love of my life,

the beauty that you gave me to raise has rejected me.

All night long I fill my pillow with tears and my mind has no focus,

my life has become a dead end and all around me the wilderness closes in.

People all around me point their fingers and my sin is held up for scrutiny.

My life has stalled and my heart beats in an empty chest.

(God, lord, the giver of life…)

Yet, I know you are entroned in heaven, nothing evil comes from you and nothing good begins without you.

You command the sun and moon, my life comes from your breath, you formed me in the womb and you maintain me.

From you hand comes hte wind and your word brings salvation and blessing to me.

I trust in you,

you will not abandon me,

you will rise up and defend me.

(give me strength)

Restore my blessing and turn her eyes toward you,

turn her heart from despair,

restore her smile,

give her an awareness of her true identity,

forgive my words,

calm my anger,

calm my misunderstanding,

let her remian with the confidence that she has while she rides her mare,

give her confident grace and a continuous joy.

(give joy and hearty love to her)

Her mind has tricked her into believing she does not need you,

she hides in mental torment and her smile,

is drowned in undeserved despair,

her early life was a mass of confusion, rage and abandonment,

her trust was robbed by those who should have known better,

my frustration made it worse,

only you can turn her heart,

help her to forgive.

(forgive me)

I know in the depths of my heart where you are,

you will hear me, I will praise you today in the depths of this barren place, forever,

both in life and in life after death.

(on heaven and earth)

You, Oh Lord, who are good all the time,

the one from whom all good things come,

now and always,

I remain forever grateful to you for all the blessings I have and I praise your name for restoring me,

You are God and are enthroned in heaven, my eyes are fixed on you,

All your blessings are remembered, your light shines even in the darkness.

(you are remebered always…)

(always worthy of praise…)

(giver of all joy…)

(God of all the earth…)

So many echoes from when I was young depended on fence posts leaning with time and rusted hinges, and on the old railraod tracks we walked to the store for cheap cigarettes and Rolling Stone.

So many echoes center on when I see the fenced in field and the bales of hay under the harvest moon, waiting to be picked up and sent away under the rising sun.

There is so much to be seen and heard and felt.

(and there is so much that remains…)

Just look into the fading light of night and then again in the increasing light of day.

Ther is so much to be learned from those well tanned and muscular builders, working so early in the morning, shattering the early morning silence of a Saturday with hammer and saws, then carefully balancing heavy bundles of shingles while they walk up a narrow ladder stepping onto pitched toofs again and again.

Then there was that Sunday as the day spread across the sky and the games went on and on, each their own little dramas on their own fields, like a stage.

I wondered if the echoes continued into the night across the empty fields and bleachers?

And then more and more as the sun went down and the wind that made the flag sway and the last to leave closed up and locke dhte gate?

There is still so much that depends on those voices and those cracking bats and all those dreams, young and old and how they echo across those fields.

T.S. Deary

9/25 – 11/17/21

The world has enough decorated war heroes and enough talking media zeroes,

enough credentialed academics and enough mrarthin runners always so athletic.

Enough fashion icons with their tapered pants and collared shirts,

enough fashion model, beauty queens, those always drunken flirts,

enough burboun drinkers who always forget to use their blinkers,

enough barrel chested players, those long ago varsity lettermen,

enough big house owners who go around married to their closet stoners.

No peak will ever be high enough and no valley will ever see their presence at the bottom with all the left over losers who will never be able to do all that they have done,

where the sun goes for days and nothing brings it out again or relieves the constant strain of not living up to the ways and means htat their examples set,

Enough of all of them!

They forget that I was there the whole time they were and I saw everything they saw over anfd over again and that I was always the one who saw it for what it was.

(I have no interest in unblemished heroes – those who were never real and who never let us down.)

Enough of trying to prove myself, do you ever get tired of trying ot run that fast all the time?

Enough of trying to cram more and more into tight pants, don’t they weigh you down on that constant uphill climb?

Enough of the perfect life, enough of the perfect portraits and the total lack of strife.

Doesn’t that burboun sting your tongue? – Does that cigar really taste that good or is that just a song that you have already sung?

If you are lucky in the end you will maintain your dignity.

If you are lucky you can find a way to let others help you bear some of the burden.

If you are lucky in the end you can rely on your faith and remember what awaits.

(just be sure to remind eveyone how big your house is.)

“Qui totum vult totem perdit”

You who have everything has to have even more, there has to be something left in the bottle to fill the remaining space in the cup, enormous blessings already poured.

You who have so much,

more than you will ever need,

always piling up more and more,

that bottomless consumer creed.

You who have already gone further than most will ever dream still have to stand out front polishing those chrome fenders to an unending gleam.

“Quid totum vult totum perdit”

You with the prestigiosyu job all young and priveledged,

owner of all these commendations, words from the higher ups,

sharing drinks and conversations and your lips to those silver cups.

you who I remember as young and unfocused, trying hard to be somebody, always a follower but then again, never bowing down to anyone.

“Poi s’ascase nel fuco chegli affina”

Then you wait and consider all that has come to pass, and when it comes to pass you to will pass – just as he did, alone and almost without his dignity.

What good will all you have done then do then?

(about the same it did for him – still gone and unable to remember anything or even what it was he had.)

And then there is me, who in his heart of hearts, knows he has more than I ever dreamed I would,

who has had enough of shallow relationships with unattainable people and cant stand the thought of another party of puffery where they all sit around and talk about their new cars or their gross income.

All those season ticket holders and enough of the Ivy League crew and their fancy western homes that have their parties with their tuxedos and all their best freind guests.

(Qui totum vult totem perdit)

T.S. Deary – P.A.F.M.

You are not who I once thought you were- gorgeous face, strong in body yet simple in mind,.

Showing true colors when invisible and just waiting slowly to strike unseen and showing fangs with full and beautiful lips.

I once defended you against an accusation that obviously hurt you – no I did not believe what was said – made it a point to tell you so as well, and how throw stones my way has tarnished my memory.

I know of dark places.

I know of deception behind lovely faces.

I know if fraud and deception.

I know of the lure of evil, sly, reception.

I have seen those who glitter.

I have tasted what has since gone bad.

I have been astonished at how they become bitter,

and then stood aside after I have been had.

I have known your face in many places and the roots that hide there all go in the same direction.

You would have me believe that right is left and left is right and that I am wrong and only you are right.

Perfect husband and you the trophy wife with all the pictures to prove it are framed upon your face,

no room for mediocrity or anything that does not provide reflection,

just as long as all remind you and point to that constant chorus of perfection.

I bet you would never blister even in the sun or the raw nerve of the lights upon the shallow syllables of all your comments.

No one would ever dare to call you out or to ever put you down.

Never looking long enough to see the ones you have forgotten where you have never been- to busy contouring your eyebrows and painting up your secrets behind a pouty smile.

Just lace up the latest fashion, style your hair and run another mile.

Just go on and on and tell as often as you can how you are the one enlightened and how your man made you realize the wicked evil of your ways,

Then turn around and agree that women are mistreated and how the only church they need is the Church of Planned Parenthood and their highest sacrament given at the altar of partial birth abortion terminating life and destroying the bond of love – then turn and criticize those whose words offend you because authenticity never pays.

Cover girl face,

such a lovely place,

never deeply civil,

moral stand will shrivel.

Run the longest distance,

better than all of us,

just praise all of that persistence,

argument to aggress..

No argument from me, I remember to much and forget to little, there is no glitter in your gold, only from far away, in foolish light at all those cocktail parties and moments with friends just as shallow.

(attack the arguer and not his argument, certain you are smarter and better than all that.)

Moral grandstand,

I ma so far below you and down here I manage to forget and to cease to understand why you were ever worthy of any defense – my words must have been meant for someone else.

High maintenance,

high fashion,

much countenance,

such a morbid fashion.

Pointy fingers and making unrelated charges in the name of signalling virtue,

all this pieta ficta,

venom given to me – biting and sarcastic,

where I once saw gold in you,

I now see rust and decay.

A pretend funeral of virtue, long dead and gone.

Pretender of highest altitude then turn and pretend to fly away from those who cant be at your level,

(sacramentum Cenae)

Oh, that cover girl face,

I am sure you took him away to such a fantastical place.

A perfect state of sanctity and grace,

no guilt or awareness – not even a trace.

Perfect man, so handsome,

deep mind and then some,

he’s held your mind for ransom,

much better than being sad or lonesome.

You, so woke and unasleep – even censor jokes that offend your sensibilities.

Outraged over any perceived slight on women but still willing to demand abortion and sever the ties of mother and child- those fragile strings that hold us all together.

(sacramentum Cenae)

Pearls cast before swine,

one to many cups of wine,

just be sure to tell her she is fine,

use one or all – any fancy line.

All you are is a pretty face.

Inhabiting some glittering place.

Speak truth to power,

You, crumbling, fragile flower.

Inhabited ivory tower,

seeking growing power,

expecting others to sit and stay in place,

believing in the power of face.

(aliquid per nihil)

Iustus a pulchellus faciem……

T.S. Deary

10/1/2020

https://www.amazon.com/photos/shared/0JzaKqhLR_Wb1Q5AnEGWqQ.9ddLVfymeAi4lwelDAAasm

https://www.amazon.com/photos/shared/Ty9sw8IaTva8FySC6X9Bmw.Ei7qjR1Faq54dyfy3h3fQV