Hands

What an amazing tool. Hot, cold, smooth, rough, wet, dry, all sensations that can be felt by the hands. Sometimes things can be placed in the wrong hands, a beautiful woman can be in the hands of the wrong man, a child can be placed in the hands of an abusive parent, and your heart can be placed in the wrong hands as well. Often times our hands are the only sensory perception we utilize. I have heard that the hands are the eyes of the soul. Some of the finest artifacts were hand made. Imagine if you will the life of one without the use of their hands. Never able to touch the one you love, never able to wipe a tear from a child’s eye, never able to stroke the hair of that special someone. What if you could never play thumb wars with your son?

Hands are the one thing everyone takes for granted. Every day we write, scratch our head, push the button of an elevator, press the buttons on the remote, type on a keypad, and lick our fingers to get the ketchup off. What would you do if you did not have hands? Could you cover your eyes and play hide and seek, tickle the belly of your child, pull the finger of your father who blames the noise on imaginary animals and blame the smell on you? Have you thought about your hands?

Sometimes hands prevent that husband from beating you up, that person from stealing your purse, allows that teller to hand you your weeks pay, hand over that weeks pay to the grocery store clerk, and whatever other bills you may have. We do a lot of things with our hands. We have poured concrete, filled ink cartridges, snapped pictures, curled hair, pulled people out of fires, counted money to ensure the audit was accurate, and type emails on analysis performed on consumption. Work takes up most of our hands time, but every now and again we get to hold the woman you love, box with the son you adore, shake the hand of that person you just met, wave at the neighbor across the street, pick up the phone to call that loved one, write the formula for the aids cure, take out the trash you forgot yesterday, man we do a lot with our hands.

We do a lot of things with our hands. Perhaps the most important thing we can do with our hands is to give them in service to our fellow man, care for those who can not care for themselves. Wait, that is not correct, the most important thing we can do with our hands is to place them in the steeple position and give thanks for our blessing, one of those blessing being our hands.

Hands

Imagine a world that did not and could not have the human touch…
In a world where touching, feeling, embrace are what feeds the mind, body and soul…
Imagine being brought up by a surrogate and fixated object as your examples for imprinting or for having a role model you cling on to for comfort; but in return, no return embrace of comfort and warmth…
Imagine being of one mind around the world addressing the social issues calling for the linking of hands as a symbol and call for unity…
Imagine the impact of giving the “High Five” clap and greeting…
In an ever increasing society that lives and survives on the common touch…
Imagine dating without holding hands first, before the kiss…
Imagine the kiss without the embrace and just lips touching…
Imagine a world without an outreaching hand…
Imagine a world without the comfort of a hand on or around your shoulder…
Imagine the combination of a hand for lifting you up and a word to strengthen your stance…
Imagine your being without a touch and only a voice…
The body, mind and spirit are nurtured by one main sensory perception…..” touch”, (conhumanness, and oneness) all of which feeds our need for normalcy and acceptance…
Imagine having to train your feet to take the place of your hands…
Pick up new born babies, children to show expressions of love and greetings…
Feet to hold and rotate the jump ropes for children’s play…
Feet in place of hands… or mouth in place of both…
We take for granted the importance of small and large tasks used by our hand(s)
What will we do when we reach out to touch other’s that have gone through life without arms or limbs…?
Would it break the chain of love, the cycle of touch, nurturing lost to feeling and embrace…?
To wave hello, to point to God, to give back change… Thank God for his goodness and mercy!

Death

The paradox of being the most feared and the most sought after is I can be a gift to some and a curse to others. I spend my days and nights picking who will bend to my will, as I am nearly unstoppable. Nothing made can prevent my purpose for I am the ultimate machine. Once my gears begin to turn, the rattle is inevitable. Clarity comes as your minds eye sharpens; you have never seen this clearly before. One begins to understand that things could have been done differently. My story is endless, no one knows where I begin or end just that I exist. I am a living legend, if you will.

I have experienced the world, been to the most exotic places and I feast like a king. My time on earth has been very rewarding; I have had the pleasure of meeting millions. Whether in the south of France or in hills of the Himalaya’s I collect what is due to me. I am always on call, as I never sleep. Sleep can never claim me for I do not need to rest. I travel the globe granting the request of those who call for me. Some of them are not patient enough to wait and take matters into their own hands for they are weak. I walk the halls of crisp and cool buildings where machines alarm the watchers. If those who watch pay close attention I can sometimes be delayed, but as they are indifferent to those in their purview I pull off my crime.

Sometimes whether I win now or later depend upon that $9.00 per hour watcher who just lost her boyfriend to her best friend and can’t focus on the pitch in the background. The pitch that screeches until it goes flat. How about the Mack who pulled the Shorty in the other hallway while the line straightens out realizing that I was moments away but could have been delayed, had he not been worried about his seed being spilled into the abyss. I am sure he wishes I had passed by this night, but the curse has attacked him and he arrives just as the rattles stops. God bless his soul, as the night unfolds he now wishes I would come his way. It is at times like this I am a gift. But I choose to be a curse and let him live with himself.  I am Death and I pass!

Death

Why is everyone so afraid to talk about it, or think about it, or plan for it (to the extent that you can)? I wonder if people think, if you speak it, think it or prepare for it, it will happen? Don’t they realize that God is in control, always has been and always will be?

Wouldn’t it be better to realize the inevitable, embrace it and live your life in such a way that when death comes – so will peace? Okay, I know you love them, you will miss them and you can’t imagine not having them around, but God is still in control.

Why not live each day being the best “you” possible to those you love and yourself? And when death does make its way to the doorstep of those you love – just remember God is in control. Embrace it and be at peace.

Death

Oh death!

A calling that we cannot escape, it is the ultimate sacrifice dealt daily for you, them and we....

To be prepared for a meeting at the gates of heaven where God will call on thee....

Or prepare for a long hot summer in the sweltering flames....

Because of the unjust deeds and non repentant ways that were our claims....

Oh death!

A calling that we cannot escape, it is the ultimate sacrifice dealt daily for you, them and we....

How to extend my longevity on earth and to believe in a fountain of youth, a wonderful thought you see....

But no matter my physical state, my exercise regimen and pills I take, its God's choice for what happens to me....

It's up to me to control my environment and living on earth...

I can kill the spirits of the flesh, the carnal knowledge and survival instincts that comes with birth....

Being thoughtful and prayerful and giving God the glory is all our salt is worth....

Everything else is just white noise distracting our hearing of God's messages directions....

Our antennae searching horizontally on the ground losing touch with our vertical connections....

Lost in the maze of distractions, wickedness, selfishness, greed, narcissism and adorned with gold....

Because we have lost our identity in who we are, no spiritual structure or caught up in fitting in....

To a society that has lost compassion, love, brotherhood, fellowship, and the spirit of Christ and chose sin....

As a comrade to get by day to day and somehow feel secured in the wraps of deceit, lies and manipulation....

Forgetting that there is a price to pay, one day....

when we may not be prepared or able to say as the thief did on the cross....

"Jesus, remember me when you come into your Kingdom." Jesus replied, " I assure you, today you will be with me in paradise." (Forgiveness)

Oh Death!

A calling that we cannot escape, it is the ultimate sacrifice dealt daily for you, them and we....

How to extend my longevity on earth and to believe in a fountain of youth, a wonderful thought you see....

But no matter my physical state, my exercise regimen and pills I take, it God's choice what happens to me....

Do everything in the name of LOVE, RESPECT, DECENCY & BROTHERHOOD....

Give God the praise and the glory for the life he gives to us each day and be thankful and joyful....

Seed

Buried I struggle to survive for life means so much to me. Laid to rest though not dead I imagine what is possible. My minds eye visualizes the possible. My existence a mystery to me for I know not what I am, for God has not revealed that to me. My only knowledge of self is that I will one day sustain life. The journey is my reward.

I lay dormant within, my true meaning not realized. I am often spilled into napkins, tossed aside even swallowed at times. My struggle to survive impossible for my true meaning is not realized. I am the creator’s instrument to duplicate him but my true meaning is abandoned, as I said I am often tossed aside. I give life, though at times I should not have. My existence a mystery to me for I know not who I am, for God has not revealed that to me. My only knowledge of self is that I am. That I have a journey is my reward.

In the recesses of consciousness I stir. The Pentium fills with excitement in my infancy. Once mature, I put the pencil to pad and put my pennies together as the plan is being formulated. Sparked by God I can create, design, and instruct, sometimes outside of the will, I destroy. My existence a mystery to me for I know not what I am, for God has not revealed that to me. My only knowledge of self is that I dream. The dream of a journey is my reward.

Driven by uncertainty I linger around unsure. Decisions made hard for I am not sure of my next move. What shall I do next, do I move to the right or the left? Perhaps I should turn around and begin again. Crippled by not knowing, how can I survive this abyss? Because God has not revealed my path I have no journey, my existence should be futile but the chasm grows because of the uncertainty. My existence is a mystery simple because I am. What I am, can be purged once the pencil is put down, the Pentium at rest, my pennies turned into paper and my plan made concrete and ordained. Only then can I be laid to rest. Assuredness is my reward.

Believe in thy heart and confess with thy mouth and you will be saved. These are the tenants of salvation. The commonality in life is many, whether you are a seed buried to produce fruit, a seed produced to replicate the master, a seed spurred to produce an economic engine or handicapped by the seed of doubt, faith is the answer. Fruit has faith it will sustain life, God has faith that man will reproduce him, and dreams have faith they will come true. To remove doubt one only needs to have the faith of a mustard seed.

Seed

Am I a seed sitting at my computer desk typing about the word "seed" representing my physical being state by the fertilization process of procreation.....?

Am I given birth and breath and a representative of my creator through the donor sperm process to become a vessel to do God's will as I venture into the paths of daily life....?

Am I a seed of truth, a seed of confusion, a seed of wisdom, a seed of trust, a seed of guidance, a seed of greed, a seed of covetness, lies, thievery, murderer.....?

Can I become a seed producer myself and what examples will my seed thrust forth....?

What in me, my DNA and the breath of my creator have to overcome for my creators spirit to excel and lead?

What am I if I have a covering to protect my essence of life until it's time to born my locked secrets for growth when I am lying dormant awaiting the rains, droppings protected from the acidic baths of stomach contents and dropped to the ground, to lie and wait for the seasons to bear.....?

Have I heard a voice that echoed in my memory chest, or spoken wisdom's and story telling that gave me a sense of confidence, nurturing and protection to endure.....?

If given guidance in turmoil and troubled times in young and old life where one may feel forsakened, but pulling on the strengths of the stories told for guidance and the intrinsic spiritual breath blown into young lungs at birth, somehow lessened our fears.....

Is also a seed covered by the blood that footsteps lead and leave across pathways and journeys.....

Seeds are wind blown, word-smithed, buried, impregnated, taught and used much like a verbs definition; action oriented.....

Of course, depending if the seed embodies life to bear....

A seed can bear fruit

A seed can procreate

A seed is a transferable thought

A seed is an intrinsic calling

A seed is a spiritual breath

It is the spirit in which we utilize and manage our seeds bank, how we broadcast them for germination in what gives us favorable circumstance, blessings and strong harvests.I just happened to be the seed with spiritual air blown and remembered as my days creep into my summer seasons, designated through the structure of my DNA to depict the image of man, fortunate enough to have a big head, two arms, two legs, ten toes, eyes, a brain a nervous system, a intake and out-take system that through it all was thought enough well in advance..........to be placed on earth, to learn and share experiences that passes on human experiences that educate, lift burdens, give testimony for others to learn from my experiences and mistakes for their survival to elevate the evolution of man, his obedience to his creator, his mentoring spirit, to show God's love and for the uplifting of human kind and the world and eco system that he resides.

What kind of seed are you planting and what will be your harvest?

Seed

A seed is life rather it be through germination or incubation. All seeds remain inactive until conditions are right for the process of life to begin. My background, my teachings, my surroundings in my formative years and my experiences seem to determine the direction of my thoughts. A seed has such value to us whether it feeds us spiritually or nourishes our bodies or adds another living, breathing soul to our earth.

I think of my life in the pecan bottom, next to Deep Fork River on sixty acres. We harvested a massive half an acre garden. A garden of this size had to be plowed by tractor; a rototiller would not get it. To plant, you had to tie a croaker sack around your neck full of seed and go down the rows dropping the seed (similar to Johnnie Appleseed pictures you have seen) while someone walked behind you with a hoe, covering the seeds. Try to imagine row after row of corn, mustard greens, potatoes, several varieties of onion, lettuce, green beans, beets, carrots, cucumbers, several varieties of watermelon, cantaloupe, tomatoes, squash, bell peppers, hot peppers and don’t forget the turnips. Imagine hoeing those rows in the summer heat! So much work with great rewards! Can you imagine the joy on our faces and the yummy in our tummies when a meal from the garden was prepared accompanied by fried pork chops, fresh from the hog you butchered last month.

Then, I think of how I am challenged to have faith each day and the strongest faith is equated to the same mustard seed that I planted for the nourishment of my body. My faith can’t grow and the mustard seed can’t grow in the garden when the conditions aren’t right. But when the conditions are right, mountains can and are moved in life’s challenges and mounds of dirt burst open to bring forth the sprouts of seed germination leading to that great pot of mustard greens.

Matthew 17:20 reads, He replied, "Because you have so little faith. I tell you the truth, if you have faith as small as a mustard seed, you can say to this mountain, 'Move from here to there' and it will move. Nothing will be impossible for you.

Pennies

Society has overlooked us for hundreds of years. We have been set aside, castigated deemed worthless. You can walk by us and never even look at us, loved only by the very young as their minds have not yet been corrupted by the prejudices of their parents. Our self worth tied up in your emotional baggage, your value system. Unable to break away from systems that devalue us, we only have each other. Tied together by a common bond we stand alone in our hope of meaning more to people. Our self loathing made more apparent because we are darker than the others, therefore less important not as valuable.

For decades our very existence has been the topic of discussion, so under valued we do not even warrant a place in the future. Our future is bleak, for no one wants us to be around. You will find hundreds of us in the lower income stores, ghetto’s, on the street corners, still perpetuating the welfare mentality as our brothers and sisters are easy to get. Used up and thrown away like trash we feel dirty, could you have at least used the Vaseline? Show us some love, we are worth something are we not? Time has tarnished us, rubbed us raw, you have finally broken us, denigrated with nothing left we live under bridges, in shelters, on the cold streets, in subways, and we ride in buses to pass the time just to feel something again. In those buses we can mingle with the pretty ones, the light skinned ones, the ones deemed more valuable.

For hundreds of years we have wanted to be apart of something, something other than being bottled up together and used as a last resort. We have wanted the same things as the others, respect, dignity, to feel like we are worth something, to feel like we deserve to coexist with the lighter skinned ones. Unfortunately we will probably be extinct in the next 50 years because we can not survive alone. However, we will be prominently displayed in the national archives, the local museums, forms of rare art. What a future we have to look forward to, knowing we won’t be around long gives us a sense of freedom, we can live despite ourselves. We can live life to the fullest because we are free. Free to imagine, free exploring the essence of life, free to be free. We can remain in that bottle and know that all we have is each other. We can ride in that bus with the pretty ones and know that although we may not be as valued as they are, we will go down in history as one of a kind. From 1793 to present we have been called different things. We do not like being called 97.5% zinc core, 2.5% copper plating, we prefer the OG, just plan old copper. By the way, the pretty ones may believe they are worth more, but they either run in fours, tens, and twenties, they can not compete, for all we have is each other and all of them separate equal the same as us. We are the one hundred, yes the very same….. $1.00. (In pennies)

Pennies

Remember when. I love to say that because I remember when, you could purchase a piece of bubble gum, or an apple jolly rancher, a banana beich (with jokes printed inside the wrapper), or the little striped candy with the peanut butter for only a penny a piece.

A penny for your thoughts! What a small price to pay for something so valuable-imagine only one penny for your thoughts? There are so many of these adages in our history and we find ourselves repeating them, and believing them. For instance, don't pick up a penny if it's not "heads up," it will bring bad luck. How can finding money be bad luck when every penny counts? But yet, we follow the adage for fear that it might just be true. I'm guilty. The fear of bad luck can actually out-weigh common sense especially when myths and old wives tales were commonplace in your upbringing. And no matter how hard you try to ignore them, somehow they become engraved in your memory usually accompanied by a rhyme.

Pennies are so often stepped over, dropped and never picked up because it's just a penny or melted into the asphalt from being driven over time and time again. This is one item that the initial value is insignificant but over time came bring great rewards. Just think if you had picked up every penny you've stepped over, dropped and ignored, or refused to pick up because it wasn't heads up, you would have increased assets right now because of pennies.

Pennies

Many times homeless, cold, overheated and ignored in various places I reside...

Lying on the streets, in ash trays, jars, baskets and between cusions I hide...

Defaced and reduced in size to cheat vending machines...

Filed, glued, soldered for designing jewelery and rings...

Imprisioned in strait jacket wrappers, captured in banks and coffee cans...

My worth only in numbers when I'm moved from hundreds to grands...

Walked over and being picked up depends...

On the lying position I'm in...

If found on the streets with my back side showing...

Face up, many times I'm taken on a journey, my face is glowing...

Because acts of superstitions can leave me to the treasure seekers wand...

It is then that my fragrance is not of paper but metals of copper and bronze...

When my posse of the homeless, hidden, imprisioned, ignored and ash tray kins...

Are gathered to purchase prosthetic devices and such through pledges for the Charitable event for Jerry Lewis' kids and friends...

Though I am small to Wall Street in a dollar amount...

My total contribution when collected abundantly enriches an account...

A pennies journey is ultimately to be wrapped in dollar bundles and from and old school thought to remind...

Use of the old cliche, and the thought "A penny for your thoughts" today could mean, I could buy some people's mind...

Pencil

Life sustaining to words of love 365 days a year I feel the tug of need from, oh, so many people. This has to be what Barack Obama is feeling....doesn't it?

How can I, a pencil, so thin, so fragile serve all people and serve them well, because even I break at times, even I run out of eraser at times, even more so in times of uncertainty. This has to be what Barack Obama is thinking....doesn't it?

My existence began over 200 years ago. And just think; I have served the needs of communication of my people tirelessly and futuristically. Not just in poetry or words of encouragement, but life sustaining matters of finance and well being. This has to be the focus of Barack Obama over the next eight years....doesn't it?

During the historical days, weeks, months and years ahead I will gather all my inner strength and resolve to stand firm, without breaking, ready to serve with, Barack Obama, as he embarks on the journey to lead this country back from the depths of financial and socialistic despair. This has to be what Barack Obama would expect from me....doesn't it?