Iz and Pal (Bedouin Buddies)


Iz and Pal

Jonathots Daily Blog

(4071)

Sitting Twenty-Three

Pada was finding it difficult to sleep, brought on by the absence of Jubal dwelling in his household.

The disappearance of his son had also stirred old memories—bittersweet. When he was a boy, his father was living in the Sinai Peninsula in 1948, when Israel was granted statehood. Their family joined with a few others to form a small fellowship of Muslim men converting to Judaism. They named themselves the Sons of Rahab.

Part of their defection was due to spiritual searching and internal awakening. But mostly, it was just the desire for a new beginning. After all, there was new land, new opportunity and new people. A wandering soul could escape the sting of the past, the scrutiny of unforgiving neighbors and disappear into the enthusiasm of a burgeoning dream.

So Pada was born a year-and-a-half later, in the new state of Israel—a Jewish lad. His father was an austere and harsh disciplinarian—stringent and orthodox in the principles of Judaism, perhaps due to a guilty conscience over abandoning his native faith.

Punishing the children with his hands, harsh words and leather straps was the protocol of the household. Pada learned of God but it was a Deity whose face grew dark and cheeks reddened with anger, voice shrill and condemning. The punishment declared “divine” was always bruising and painful.

When he was sixteen, he left home to launch on his own. After failed businesses and shattered dreams, for a season he took work as a salesman. Insecure and lacking social graces, he found it difficult to choose the words to cajole patrons. He left in frustration and disgrace, realizing he needed a profession that would soothe his child-whipped soul while he was still able to earn a wage.

He became a tailor. The attention to detail and the simplicity of sewing, repairing and weaving suited him well, and eased his tormented mind. Yet when he returned home at night, Pada maintained the severity he had learned from his father.

Now, lying sleepless in his bed, he still found it difficult to reflect on young Jubal with thoughts of tenderness. Instead, he fought off fits of rage over being betrayed and dishonored.

He was undecided. For a while he remained stagnant. Yet in a moment of brief humility, he considered taking an uncharacteristic action. It had been years since he had crossed the city to a neighborhood where Allah ruled instead of Jehovah God. At first, he pridefully resisted the idea of reaching out, but after much deliberation and consternation, he concluded it was time to make the trip to meet the father of the young boy who shared a desert space with his Jubal. 

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PoHymn: A Rustling in the Stagnant … December 27th, 2017

 Jonathots Daily Blog

(3535)

 

I Took This Year

I took this year

Or was it given to me?

To come way down here

Curious to see

Papa Grace was my dream

Blended blood, as a team

One can speak

Another touch

This one meek

The other giving much

Turning thoughts into actions

Joining one from the factions

You can increase

I will decrease

Both on our knees

Calm the nasty seas

But I was wrong

It must have been

Didn’t last long

Two, four, six, ten

I lost a year

Or was it stolen from me?

To cripple in fear

Never meant to be

So I will go

Without regret

The road has my show

A fisherman’s net

I will love you forever

But will always wonder

Was it my fault,

My clumsy blunder?

I release this year

To heaven’s care

With much good cheer

I’m off to share.

 

 

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PoHymn: A Rustling in the Stagnant … November 1st, 2017

 Jonathots Daily Blog

(3478)

I’ll Let You Know

To all the ladies of the Earth

Who grant our species needful birth

It’s time for us to let you know

Some way for us to finally show

That carnal men from far and wide

Flirt, deceive, have notoriously lied

In an attempt to gain power

Have dominated each moment and hour

For she must become an acquisition

To diminish her purpose and position

A sexual object without a name

An adversary available for blame

So men will intimidate

Like gorillas, they imitate

Thumping the chest

Insisting they’re the best

And whispering a little something

Foul, mean–a sour nothing

Harass her ass

He grovels and pokes

Ask for favors

Pretend it’s jokes

If you want to make progress

He wants you to undress

Fill the Bill

Acting Spacey

Dirty talk

Make it racy

If you cry you lose your chance

If you agree you join the dance

So it’s time to finally replace

And rename the macho disgrace

For I am a woman, watch me grow

And if I’m interested, I’ll let you know.

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PoHymn: A Rustling in the Stagnant … October 4th, 2017

 Jonathots Daily Blog

(3449)

Broken Windows

1776 — BANG!

1863 — BANG, BANG, BANG!

1945 — KABOOM! KABLAM! KABLAST!

1971 — da da da da ripple roo da da da da cha cha do

2017 — buzz buzz kill kill rip roar tear split zip zap zap zip zippety zap zap zoom

From hell on high

Bullets from the sky

A rain of terror

A grotesque error

He made it his job

To spill the blood of the mob

Broken windows

No grace

Obliterate the country race

Why’d he do it?

Did you know him?

Was he on Facebook?

Was it mission or whim?

Everyone needs a gun

It’s a helluva lot of fun

Finding a place to shoot

So damn cool, what a hoot

A King Kong climbed the building

Bringing death from above

150 rounds a minute

Can’t be stopped by words of love

A gun has a trigger

A trigger, a bullet

The bullet has a mission

To alter the human condition

One pull on the trigger

Makes the death toll bigger

If the dudes in powdered wigs could view

What has happened with Amendment Two

If every soul in Vegas Town

Had a gun and turned around

And shot to kill Monster Man

They would have fallen short

Still cursed with the same report

People are dead, the announcer said

We’ve lost the fight.

Be safe.

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PoHymn: A Rustling in the Stagnant … September 27th, 2017

 Jonathots Daily Blog

(3442)

Harmless

At the end of my arm

Is a helping hand

Here’s my leg

With a foot ready to go

At the tip of my nose

Your business begins

My eyes are clear

I want to see

My ears are open

I’m listening

My tongue is tamed

To speak forth praise

My mind is free

To be renewed

Create in me

A clean heart, O God

I have made room

For a right spirit

I have breath for words

Which justify, not condemn

I need to be harmless

I want to be harmless

So you can trust me

And I can trust me, too.

 

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PoHymn: A Rustling in the Stagnant … October 19th, 2016

 Jonathots Daily Blog

(3099)

pohymn-not-always

 Not Always Like This

Concerning this morning’s mode

I seem burdened, overload

Hampered by nagging retreat

Fostered through vague deceit

I pity again my worried self

Placing others on the shelf

Determined that I must be seen

Bubbling a heart of treacherous mean

I probe to find the callous slight

Denying the evidence of what is right

I am the critic for the meek

Sneering, I mock the lovely weak

Exposing their obvious lack

Hoisting burdens on their back

Enemy, I emerge of that deemed decent

Ruddy with anger over offenses most recent

Finding the Christ I deny

Shaking my head, I decline to try

To simply deal with my lot

The portion provided, what I’ve got

Frowning at the human race

Unmercifully mocking the joyous face

For goodness seems too good to me

Foolishness and fear are what I see

In this cauldron I melt into a creep

Unworthy to mingle with the holy sheep

Beware, my friend, something is amiss

Please understand, I’m not always like this.

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PoHymn: A Rustling in the Stagnant … September 21st, 2016

 Jonathots Daily Blog

(3071)

pohymn-blackbird

The Crow

Here comes the crow

Flying very low

Peering for a weakness

Destroy the holy meekness

Render the nasty blow

 

Nothing of its own

Gnawing on the bone

Selfish and so vicious

Drooling with malicious

Cursed to be alone

 

Will you stand in the field

Your rigid post and never yield

Frighten away the wicked bird

Expose the taunting absurd

Until the victory is sealed?

 

The crow looms to steal

Mocking what is real

Pecking at the child’s dream

Disrupting the beauty of the rising cream

Removing the warmth to feel

 

Anger is not a way to think

Filth never a suitable drink

Pride always a bitter pill

Empty cup never refill

As the sands slowly sink

 

Scare the crow–start today

Wave your arms as you pray

Stop the menacing flying

Expose the nauseous lying

Choose the pearls to say.

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Jonathan’s Latest Book Release!

PoHymn: A Rustling in the Stagnant

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PoHymn cover jon

 
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