G-Poppers … April 6th, 2018

 Jonathots Daily Blog

(3634)

“GEE-WHIZ,” said G-Pop with an emphatic sigh.

There seems to be a series of “G” words tumbling off of people’s lips, going a bit haywire.

It starts with “GOD.”

G-Pop sat back last week and watched the more ceremonial, Druid aspects of the Christian faith take over in an attempt to temporarily get us to believe in a God who manipulates circumstances, destroys lives and “tunes” fate to produce human sacrifice, which is supposed to be an atonement for our horrific sins. The New Testament refers to Him as “God the Father,” but apparently, for a brief period, Daddy became “God the Executioner,” who went against His own abhorrence for animal sacrifice and laid a big, fat, bloody, smeary death on Jesus of Nazareth.

Then there’s “GAY.”

G-Pop wants the gay community to have all the rights, privileges and benefits as beautiful American citizens. But is it necessary for everything to suddenly be gay? There’s a sniff in the air that we should all become a little gay ourselves, to confirm that we’re open-minded enough to accept the full alphabet of the gay community, which grows by a consonant every day. LGBTQ(RSUV).

“GUNS.”

Is there anything that we, as human beings, own and admire and do not eventually use? G-Pop has been around guns in his life, and every time he did so, he wanted to shoot one. We shouldn’t be questioning whether people should have guns–but it might be good to ask what they plan on doing with them. Because guns may not kill people, but bullets do, and it is very difficult to own a gun without eventually wanting to put a bullet in it and find out how it works.

“GREED.”

G-Pop wonders if the only way to make America great again is money. Is it possible that we could be great in compassion? Was Ronald Reagan correct when he envisioned us as a city set on a hill, to be a beacon-light to the world? Or should we just present our P&L statement at the end of the year, and as long as we’re in the black, “God is good.”

“GRUMBLING.”

When did we start believing that something we despise in other people–complaining–is permissible for us to do? If you don’t want to hear G-Pop spout his grievances, then please don’t establish a lifestyle of grumbling, thinking it makes you sound grown-up, mature and thoughtful.

And finally, “GOODNESS.”

When did goodness become a joke–something to be avoided because it is naive and doesn’t understand how life really functions?

Gee-whiz. G-Pop would like to sum it up:

God is a Father, not a murderer.

Welcome, gays, to America, where you are free to love whomever you want to.

I hope you will enjoy your gun, as long as you help me keep them out of the hands of people who are bent on killing.

Would you consider joining G-Pop in being greedy for generosity?

And while you’re at it, can you set aside your grumbling and take five minutes to see if you can’t balance it with your blessings?

And finally, why don’t each and every one of us make “Oh, my goodness” a reality instead of an exclamation of bewilderment?

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PoHymn: A Rustling in the Stagnant … February 8th, 2017

 Jonathots Daily Blog

(3112)

pohymn-salva

Plantation Salva

A damning God

Seems quite odd

Why the fuss

Since He made us

Didn’t He know

How it would go

A fruitless problem

Closed the Garden

Making the nomad

Always a little sad

Chasing a dream

A meaningless scheme

Killing, making war

Settling an endless score

God sent preachers

Hideous, pious creatures

Listening to what they tell

Made us further rebel

Hate the wait

Fate is late

Will, for me

But it ain’t free

Sow and reap

Fail and weep

What a bore

Craving more

The color of skin

The depth of sin

Chosen people

Erect steeple

While we are here

Twisted in fear

God is over there

Cursed, so unfair

Settle the wild

Birth the child

He’s the Word

Judged absurd

A Master disaster

Kill the Bastard

Where can we hide

No place to abide

Then a voice

Offers a choice

His life, your Eden

Everything you’ve been needin’,

Your Plantation Salva

Is assembling

For you to discern

With a holy trembling

 

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PoHymn: A Rustling in the Stagnant … November 30th, 2016

 Jonathots Daily Blog

(3141)

pohymn-in-charge-of-fate

In Charge of Fate

Here I sit and fitfully wait

He always seems to be so late

So left to my own thinking

Sleepy, my eyes are blinking

What is taking so long?

It’s painful to remain strong

Does it care that I am weary?

Fearful, angry, sad and dreary

As each second dribbles away

Impertinent, wasting a precious day

Why am I being rejected?

The only soul seemingly affected

Do they possess some care for me?

Are you too busy to look and see

That I have lost my childlike dream

Abandoned my hope of a heavenly scheme

My soul may need the patience I know

But I require some harvest to grow

Here I sit, nowhere to be

There it is, ignoring me

Is there a purpose, perhaps a plan?

Or just a random mistreatment of man

I should be kinder to their name

But right now I need someone to blame

For the place I’ve landed, ordained by me

Only my willingness can make me free

Yet truth is such an abstract thought

Can’t be cajoled, stolen or bought

Am I the one in charge of fate?

If not, why is she so goddamn late?

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PoHymn: A Rustling in the Stagnant … November 9th, 2016

 Jonathots Daily Blog

(3120)

pohymn-reunion

Reunion

Through the years of deep devotion

Conjuring up great emotion

Friends who never really knew us

Sat together on the school bus

Trying to survive younger years

Scared of life, obsessed by fears

We huddled together to find a friend

Handed a diploma, watching it end

Start a family, get a house

Live the dream with our spouse

Ignoring the desire of our heart

Never certain where to start

We gather together to talk of weight

Careful not to discuss our fate

A memory is what connects our lives

Becoming dutiful husbands and wives

Children come, grandkids, too

I got six, how about you?

“You’re looking good” is what we say

Wouldn’t have it any other way

We take some pictures, promises are made

But problems at home cause memories to fade

We will do it again–I’ll contact you

Stay safe, dear heart, and be well, too

Reunion, communion, count the years

A basket of joy … a bucket of tears

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Mr. Kringle’s Tales …26 Stories ‘Til Christmas

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An advent calendar of stories, designed to enchant readers of all ages

“Quite literally the best Christmas stories I have ever read.” — Arthur Holland, Shelby, North Carolina

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