Introduction

For the love and passion of words. Send me a poem or prose and I will post it here. Send your words to tj@tjginn.com Words are all we have.

One can be stifled and intimidated by the magnanimous mind and never feel accomplished enough to express oneself.

That is the design of the masters of the glass bead game who at the pinnacle of their narcissism are found hanging another piece of paper on the wall to award their accomplishment.

I do not disrespect certification but only dream of a world where licensing did not equate to a right to life or opportunity. I only dream to be free from corruption, nepotism, and the clandestine passage of rights granted to the privileged.

You cannot learn enough, study enough, work enough or try hard enough to avoid the next critic lurking to prove you unworthy.

Critics are as numerous as roaches in garbage.

Just get rid of the garbage and your metaphysical solipsism is complete. It is not enough that Van gogh was ridiculed by the contemporaries and is quoted to say, "I wish they would only take me as I am." People even to this day must comment on his work rather than just look at it and with the greatest respect and say nothing.


Friday, October 19, 2012

Where Love is made



For this is where love is made.

For I have tried my children in the fire of infirmity; in the incomprehensible pain of the flesh.

They are left alone in the dark without guidance or light to see.
I must at my own anguish leave them alone to see, to see if they are of mine own sinew.

If they are of mine own, if they are of mine heart, they will surely, truly be kindred.

Love cannot be demanded only offered and it is only seen through longing.

In the midst of love it is squandered and taken for granted and thus it is only seen when lost.

For in the differential of having and not having is the realization and true definition that gives love its deepest meaning.

Thus the reason for the universe and all existence is love and a God who incomprehensibly demanded it and went away in anguish for this tyrannical demand.

There can be no other way. You must lose to gain. You must die to live.

And, a God in heaven alone is the God of nothing.

You think this is without design, that all of existence just happened?

Look deep and you will see your want; your want to be, your want to go somewhere, your want to do something, your want rise above this earthly, fleshly, limited realm.

You want.

You want to reach someone, to tell someone, to hear someone, to be recognized by someone and to recognize someone.

And a God in heaven alone is the God of nothing.

While the frustration of your limited time, and your frustration with your limited ability and your frustration with others ability to understand your frustration, your reaching, your longing to do and accomplish and to aid and comfort and fix the ills of all is so sorrowfully misunderstood.

So this is where love is made, when you are dried up and all you strength is gone in your anguish to demand love. You came with all your heart to do that spirit that is in you, that thing that you are, this soul, this entity which is you, which is how you were made.

In the image of God were you made, that of Love, Hate, Joy, Grief, Fear, Jealousy and Grace and you are swimming in the void, in darkness hoping and thus you are kindred. For you are kindred and like God knowing God's want.

For a God in heaven alone is the God of nothing.

For this realm is truly designed. It is designed to find the lonely, the broken and the wanton heart that will cherish life even at the cost of its own, lest forever you are alone, lest forever you be alone.

And, love was nailed to a tree, not the tree of good and evil but of life.

Sunday, August 12, 2012

Longing


Tell the birds to stop their singing.
Tell the butterflies to go away.
Tell the bells to stop their ringing
Tell the colors to turn to gray.

Have the clocks to stop their ticking.
Have the children stop their play.
Have the harpist stop her picking.
Have the moon to go away.

Stop the river from its flowing.
Stop the stars and crystal sky.
Stop the breezes from their blowing.
Stop all wonders by and by.

Count the minutes I am mourning.
Count the tear drops from my eyes.
Count the depth of this fore longing.
Count the anguish where it lies.

Please the minstrel to stop playing.
Please the singers to go away.
Please the dancers stop their dancing
Please the pain to stop I pray.

All if this because I miss you.

Saturday, August 11, 2012

Have you ever?


Have you ever known sincerity?
Have you ever known this calm?
Have you ever held a thing of rarity?
Have you ever sung this psalm?

Have you ever danced this dance of joy?”
Have you ever played this tune so rare?”
Have you ever returned to a children’s toy”
Have you ever played without a care?”

Have you ever seen the mocking bird?”
Have you ever known its laughing tease?”
Have you ever heard that loving word?”
Have you ever been so pleased?”

I have for in your eyes is truth’
and you say you love me.

Friday, August 10, 2012

This Single Woman


I see truth in her eyes through which I can see her soul
Long serving
Hides her pain
Clings to hope
Beams with grace
Gives her most
Cries alone
Wants to share
Longs to understand
Feels forlorn
Prays to God
Sustains with faith
Dulls her pain with drink
She waits and hopes
She dreams of that one shoulder to cry on;
That one who understands.

Loves Rare Scene


Morning broke and for a moment the sun shone through a sever in the clouds;
Nestled in a cabin in the forest, in the wood, we are far from cares and concerns.

The sever closes and the red gleam of the sun dims as more soft clouds envelope us.
You come to me with warm drink and pastry as an ever so gentle rain begins.

It is warm yet cool because of the rain, this lovely soft rain that soothes the mind.
And, then the music begins, that lovely cherished sound that is only your voice.

It is the voice of my love, my darling one that so graces me with her presence and love.
At times I fear the loss of my own soul if she should be gone.

And then you take me with your cunning and comfort, body to body beyond measure.
Nature in the midst of nature and you love me beyond measure, body to body and body to soul. The animals watched with no concern as if to learn from this rare scene.

And the lovely rain came down and ecstasy was known.

I do so love you.

Think Lovely


Think Lovely;
pink roses, humming birds, autumn colors and rainbows.
Think Joy;
laughing children, kind smiles, sweet hello’s and lovers.
Think comfort;
downy beds, cool in summer, warm in winter and hugs.
Think beautiful;
mountain streams, golden sunsets, the fairest of maidens and you.

Thursday, July 12, 2012

I WOULD RATHER

I would rather have fifteen years of calm than fifteen minutes of fame.

I would rather be an aged oak standing firm upon the ground than the rush of many saplings that are scattered all around.

I stand against the axmen with ambition to cut me down.
He hacks against my sinew well knowing I am bound.

I would rather be a mocking bird dancing on the wing, for my stage is not ambition and I truly like to sing.

So there you have the mighty oak with a bird to dance its crown.
Laughing at ambition for none could cut him down.

Savor the day and slow down.
Life is long if you choose.

Monday, July 9, 2012

RAMBLING OF THE WAYWARD MIND



Caught with relief on a cool morning after a long stretch of summer heat,
 as the clouds shroud the morning sun,
I’m beset with contemplations of the labor of the day before.

The world around is buzzing with busyness as each individual chases the necessary needs of survival, of want, of pleasure.

This amount’s to labor for the most of us, with the manipulation by the cunning, which are the least of us, that conspire to avoid life’s labor. But always is the constant churning of ambition.

Imagine an iron anchor for a sailing vessel attached to an unbreakable chain.
Now, cast it overboard, hard upon the rocks and feel the wayward ship come to a stop.
Slow the mindless ambition, and rest.

Long life is not hurried.
Be not bored with simplicity and take time to taste and savor.
And the cool breeze washes over me, a breeze I would not have felt lest I stop to feel it.

Sunday, June 3, 2012

Understanding


Understanding

I understand
I see, I know, I capitulate
Knowing
Knowing what?
Knowing a fact.
Is your knowing Objective or Subjective?

Singular understanding.
You perceive something to be fact.
This is your singular subjective observation.

Plural understanding.
You and others agree on a fact.
Is that then Objective?
We understand?

I see the man is dead.
We see the man is dead.
Therefore the man must be dead.

But,
I love.
You say you love.
I cannot feel what you feel.
Therefore I doubt.
I only know that I love,
And your love must be proved.

A God in heaven alone is the God of nothing.



Monday, March 12, 2012

The Adoration of Kindness


One might say that grace is the ultimate state of being rising above the noise of discontent. But then discontent stems from want, the want to be nourished, the want to be sheltered from the many harms of our physical existence.

Intelligence can artfully dance upon the sea of our material world. We ogle the masters of the ‘Glass Bead Game’ rendering our service to their wisdom and the very shares of our labor to buy the luxury that can distance us momentarily from our discontent.

Ideologically we weigh in the balance our governance of right and wrong and by discourse defend our means or wage or right to be. Under freedom and democratic argument we determine our justification of the classes from poor to bourgeois to opulent or even megalomania.

One might consider that a beggar on the street that refuses to work, with the exception of mental illness, is a tyrant allowing your children to labor in their stead to provide for their needs and wants. Could this mean that charity in this case is miss-given? Thus many pass by a vagabond with a sign, “Will Work for Food,” unless they will really work for food. Some just succumb and think, “If you are so low that you need to be on the street with a sign, you are truly needy.” They render up a bill or two and feel they have done charities’ call.

So as you meander through this incomprehensible realm look deep into the eyes of your fellows, discerning each individual by the best of your judgment and render grace and kindness where it is due, even unto your adversary when found in need and he will no longer be your adversary.

Now the world is contrary to this with its brutal economic competition until there is devastation, then wonders never cease as the kind come forth to give all that they have.

We are at our best when we are broken and don’t you adore when someone is kind.

For I was an hungered, and ye gave me meat: I was thirsty, and ye gave me drink: I was a stranger, and ye took me in: Naked, and ye clothed me: I was sick, and ye visited me: I was in prison, and ye came unto me.