<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6087500516859723396</id><updated>2011-10-04T15:22:37.929-05:00</updated><category term='Sermon'/><category term='mythology'/><category term='theology unitarian universalist'/><category term='daedelus'/><title type='text'>Deity and Its Double</title><subtitle type='html'>Theopoetics at Work</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://deityanddouble.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6087500516859723396/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://deityanddouble.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><link rel='next' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6087500516859723396/posts/default?start-index=101&amp;max-results=100'/><author><name>d. breeden</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13190022994900518555</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_HVL3aXrFRuk/Se8u-eMIRWI/AAAAAAAAACs/iwOiEpc4QQM/S220/006.JPG'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>132</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6087500516859723396.post-4274523070506102518</id><published>2011-06-19T09:59:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2011-06-19T09:59:55.278-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Moving</title><content type='html'>This blog is moving to&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;http://revdocdavid.tumblr.com/&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6087500516859723396-4274523070506102518?l=deityanddouble.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://deityanddouble.blogspot.com/feeds/4274523070506102518/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6087500516859723396&amp;postID=4274523070506102518' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6087500516859723396/posts/default/4274523070506102518'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6087500516859723396/posts/default/4274523070506102518'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://deityanddouble.blogspot.com/2011/06/moving.html' title='Moving'/><author><name>d. breeden</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13190022994900518555</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_HVL3aXrFRuk/Se8u-eMIRWI/AAAAAAAAACs/iwOiEpc4QQM/S220/006.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6087500516859723396.post-7269926826831399736</id><published>2011-05-10T08:46:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2011-05-10T08:46:59.427-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Job 38 a translation by David Breeden</title><content type='html'>Then GOD spoke to Job out of a whirlwind:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Who is this who talks without knowing?&lt;br /&gt;Get some clothes on, like a man. &lt;br /&gt;I have some questions&lt;br /&gt;And I expect you to answer.&lt;br /&gt;Just where were you when I laid the foundations of the earth? &lt;br /&gt;Tell me, if you have any answers.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Just who planned the earth? Do you know&lt;br /&gt;Who stretched out the plumb line?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“What are the foundations of the world fastened to? &lt;br /&gt;Who laid the cornerstone of the earth&lt;br /&gt;On that day when the morning stars sang together, &lt;br /&gt;And all the sons of God shouted for joy? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Who was it shut up the doors of the sea&lt;br /&gt;When those broke open and the water&lt;br /&gt;Rushed out, as if from a womb? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Who was it made the clouds &lt;br /&gt;Like clothing for the earth&lt;br /&gt;And the darkness like swaddling clothes,  &lt;br /&gt;And set the outer boundaries &lt;br /&gt;And set bars and doors?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Who said to the waves,&lt;br /&gt;‘You can come this far and farther?’ &lt;br /&gt;Have you commanded the morning in your lifetime&lt;br /&gt;And made the daylight keep its place?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Have you been to the springs of the sea? &lt;br /&gt;Have you walked in the sea’s depths? &lt;br /&gt;Have the gates of death been opened to you? &lt;br /&gt;Have you seen the doors of the shadow of death? &lt;br /&gt;Have you seen the breadth of the earth? &lt;br /&gt;Tell me if you know.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Where does light dwell? &lt;br /&gt; And as for darkness. . .where does it live? &lt;br /&gt; Do you know the way to those houses? &lt;br /&gt;Were you born when these things happened?&lt;br /&gt;Are you that old?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Have you ever visited the storehouse of the snow? &lt;br /&gt;Have you seen the storehouse of the hail&lt;br /&gt;That I keep in reserve for battles and wars?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Which is the road to the place the light is parted&lt;br /&gt;And the east wind is scattered on the earth?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Who was it made the courses for the rain&lt;br /&gt;Or a way for lightning and thunder&lt;br /&gt;So that it falls upon the earth,&lt;br /&gt;Even in the places no person lives&lt;br /&gt;So that the tender buds of the herb can grow?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Does the rain have a father?&lt;br /&gt;Whose child is the drops of dew? &lt;br /&gt;Who is the mother of the ice&lt;br /&gt;And the frosts of heaven&lt;br /&gt;That make water turn to stone&lt;br /&gt;And freeze the face of the deep?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Can you chain the Pleiades&lt;br /&gt;Or free the shackles of Orion? &lt;br /&gt;Can you bring out the constellations in their seasons?&lt;br /&gt;Can you guide Arcturus with his sons? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Do you know the laws of heaven?&lt;br /&gt;Might you make the earth obey them?&lt;br /&gt;Can you lift your voice to the clouds and bring down rain?&lt;br /&gt;Can you send lightning bolts wherever you please? &lt;br /&gt;Who has taught the rules to all things?&lt;br /&gt;Who gave wisdom to the human heart? &lt;br /&gt;Who is wise enough to number the clouds?&lt;br /&gt;Who can open the jars of heaven&lt;br /&gt;When the dust grows hard&lt;br /&gt;And the clods stick together?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Will you do the hunting for a lion&lt;br /&gt;When her cubs are hungry&lt;br /&gt;And they crouch in their dens&lt;br /&gt;Lying quietly in wait?&lt;br /&gt;Who feeds the raven&lt;br /&gt;When his young ones&lt;br /&gt;Cry to God, wandering in starvation?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6087500516859723396-7269926826831399736?l=deityanddouble.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://deityanddouble.blogspot.com/feeds/7269926826831399736/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6087500516859723396&amp;postID=7269926826831399736' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6087500516859723396/posts/default/7269926826831399736'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6087500516859723396/posts/default/7269926826831399736'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://deityanddouble.blogspot.com/2011/05/job-38-translation-by-david-breeden.html' title='Job 38 a translation by David Breeden'/><author><name>d. breeden</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13190022994900518555</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_HVL3aXrFRuk/Se8u-eMIRWI/AAAAAAAAACs/iwOiEpc4QQM/S220/006.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6087500516859723396.post-3207576270776170159</id><published>2011-04-20T09:50:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2011-04-20T09:50:26.480-05:00</updated><title type='text'>The Last Hours of Jesus a translation by David Breeden</title><content type='html'>Chapter 14: 17&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In the evening Jesus came with the twelve. And as they sat and ate, Jesus said, “Truly I say to you, one of you eating with me will betray me.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The disciples were dismayed, each asking, “Is it I? Is it I?”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jesus answered, “It is one of the twelve, one who dips bread into the dish with me. The Child of Humanity goes as it has been written of him. But woe to that man by whom the Child of Humanity is betrayed! It would have been better for that man had he never been born.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The disciples were dismayed, each asking, “Is it I? Is it I?”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jesus answered, “It is one of the twelve, one who dips bread into the dish with me. The Child of Humanity goes as it has been written of him. But woe to that man by whom the Child of Humanity is betrayed! It would have been better for that man had he never been born.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As they continued eating, Jesus took bread, and blessed it, and broke it, and gave to them, and said, “Take, eat: this is my body.”&lt;br /&gt;And he took the cup, and when he had given thanks, he gave it to them, and they all drank of it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And he said to them, “This is my blood of the new covenant, which is shed for many. Truly I say to you, I will drink no more of the fruit of the vine, until that day when I drink it new in the Sovereignty of God.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After they had sung a hymn, they went out to the Mount of Olives. There, Jesus said to his disciples, “All of you will desert me tonight. For it is written, &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;‘I will smite the shepherd, &lt;br /&gt;and the sheep will be scattered.’&lt;br /&gt;But after I am raised up, I will go before you into Galilee.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Peter said to Jesus, “Even if all the others desert you, I will not.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jesus said to Peter, “Truly I say to you that on this day, even in this night, before the rooster crows twice, you will deny me three times.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Peter spoke more vehemently, “Even if I have die with you, I will not deny you in any way.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All the disciples said the same. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They came to a place called Gethsemane. There, Jesus said to his disciples, “Sit here while I pray.” &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jesus took Peter, James, and John with him. As he walked, Jesus became distressed and full of anguish. He said to them, “My soul is sad, deathly sad. Wait here and watch.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jesus went a little distance farther off, then fell to the ground, praying that, if it were possible, this trial might pass from him. Jesus said, “Abba—Father—all things are possible for you. Take away this cup from me!  Nevertheless, it is not what I will, but what you will.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When he came back, Jesus found them sleeping, and said to Peter, “Simon, are you sleeping?  Couldn’t you watch with me one hour? Watch you and pray, lest you enter into temptation. The spirit truly is ready, but the flesh is weak.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jesus again went away and prayed, speaking the same words as before.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When he returned, Jesus found them asleep again, for their eyes were heavy. They did not know how to excuse themselves. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jesus prayed a third time, and when he came back, finding them asleep, he said, “Sleep on now, and take your rest. It is all done. The hour has come. See:  the Child of Humanity has been betrayed into the hands of those who do not understand. Get up. Let us go. He who betrayed me is near.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Even as Jesus spoke, Judas, one of the twelve, came with a large crowd carrying swords and staves from the religious leaders and the scholars and the elders.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Judas had explained to them, “Whoever I kiss, that is he. You may take him and lead him away in safety.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As soon as he saw Jesus, Judas went to him, saying, “Rabbi, Rabbi.” And Judas kissed him. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The crowd laid their hands on Jesus and took him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One of those nearby drew a sword and struck a servant of the high priest, cutting off his ear.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jesus said to the crowd, “Have you come out, as against a thief, with swords and staves to take me?  I was there in the temple daily, teaching. You did not take me then. Yet, the scriptures must be fulfilled.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All of his followers forsook Jesus and fled, including a certain young man who had a linen cloth tied about his naked body. Men in the crowd grabbed him, and he left the linen cloth, running away naked.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They took Jesus away to the high priest. The religious leaders, elders, and scholars had assembled with him. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Peter followed, far off, to the palace of the high priest. He sat outside with the servants, warming himself by a fire.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The religious leaders and the council sought witnesses against Jesus in order to put him to death. They found none.  Many bore false witness against Jesus, but their testimony was contradictory. Some bore false witness against Jesus saying, “We heard him say, ‘I will destroy this temple that is made with hands, and within three days I will build another made without hands.’” Yet none of the witnesses agreed with each other.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So the high priest stood up and asked Jesus, “Don’t you have anything to say? What is it these people are saying about you?”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But Jesus held his peace, saying nothing. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The high priest asked Jesus, “Are you the Messiah, the Son of the Blessed?”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jesus said, “I am, and you will see the Child of Humanity sitting at the right hand of power, and coming in the clouds of heaven.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then the high priest tore his clothes and said, “Why do we need further witnesses? You have heard blasphemy. What do you think?”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And they all agreed that Jesus should be condemned to death.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then some spat on him. Then they blindfolded him and beat him, saying, Prophesy!” The servants slapped him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Peter was outside, and there came one of the maids of the high priest. When she saw Peter warming himself, she looked at him and said, “You were with Jesus of Nazareth.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Peter said, “I don’t understand what you are saying.” Peter went onto the porch of the palace. And a rooster crowed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The maid found Peter and said to those who were standing around, “This is one of them.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But Peter denied it again, going off into the crowd. Someone said, “Surely you are one of them, for your speech is like a Galilean.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Peter began to curse and swear, saying, “I do not know this man you are talking about!”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then the rooster crowed a second time. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Peter called to mind the words that Jesus had said to him, “Before the rooster crows twice, you will deny me thrice.” When Peter thought of that, he wept.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;Chapter Fifteen:  Execution&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Early in the morning the religious leaders held a consultation with the elders and scholars and the whole council, and bound Jesus, and carried him away, delivering him to Pilate.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pilate asked, “Are you the King of the Jews?”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jesus answered, “You say that.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then the religious leaders accused Jesus of many things, but Jesus answered nothing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pilate asked Jesus again, “You say nothing? Look how many things they are saying against you.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jesus said not a word, and Pilate marveled.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now it was the custom at the festival time to release one prisoner, whoever the crowd desired. At that time there was a man named Barabbas in custody, a man who had plotted insurrection and had committed murder in the insurrection.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The crowd began crying for the customary release.  So Pilate said to them, “Do you wish for me to release the King of the Jews?” For Pilate knew that the religious leaders had arrested Jesus out of envy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But the religious leaders moved the people, convincing them to cry for the release of Barabbas.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pilate said to the crowd, “What, then, do you wish for me to do with the one you call the King of the Jews?”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The crowd screamed, “Crucify him!”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pilate said to the crowd, “Why? What evil has he done?”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The crowd cried all the louder, “Crucify him!”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And so Pilate, wishing to appease the mob, released Barabbas to them and delivered Jesus, after he had been beaten, to be crucified.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Soldiers led Jesus away into a hall, called the Praetorium, and they called together the entire cohort. Then the soldiers clothed Jesus in purple and wove a crown made of thorns, putting it on his head. The soldiers began to salute him, “Hail, King of the Jews!” Then they beat him with a reed and spat on him, bowing as if they were worshipping him. After they had mocked him, they took off the purple and put his own clothes back on him. Then they led him out to crucify him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Along the way, the soldiers compelled a man named Simon, a Cyrenian, who happened to be passing by, a peasant from the country, to bear the cross of Jesus.  He was the father of Alexander and Rufus. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So they brought Jesus to Golgotha, which translates, “The Place of a Skull.” There the soldiers offered wine mixed with myrrh, but Jesus would not take it.  When they had crucified him, the soldiers took his garments, casting lots for them, deciding what every man should take. It was at nine o’clock in the morning when they crucified him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The inscription of his accusation said, “THE KING OF THE JEWS.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;With him was crucified two thieves, one at his right hand, the other at his left. So it was that the scripture was fulfilled which said, “And he was numbered with the criminals.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Those who passed by railed at him, wagging their heads, saying, “Ah, you who would destroy the temple and build it in three days! Save yourself. Come down from the cross.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Likewise, the religious leaders and scholars mocked him, saying, “He saved others, yet he cannot save himself! Let the Messiah, the King of Israel, descend now from the cross so that we may see and follow.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Those who were crucified with him mocked him as well.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At noon, a darkness came over the whole land. The darkness lasted until three in the afternoon. Then Jesus cried with a loud voice, saying, “Eloi, Eloi, lama sabachthani?”  Translated, this means, “My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Those standing nearby, hearing this, said, “Listen! He is calling Elijah.” One of them ran and filled a sponge full of vinegar, put it on a reed, and gave it to Jesus to drink, saying, “Let’s see if Elijah will come to take him down.”&lt;br /&gt;Jesus cried with a loud voice and gave up the spirit.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At that moment, the veil of the temple was torn in two, from top to bottom. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When the centurion who stood nearby saw how Jesus cried out and gave up the spirit, he said, “Truly this man was the Child of God.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There were women watching from far off, including Mary Magdalene and Mary the mother of James the younger and of Joses, and Salome, who followed Jesus in Galilee and took care of him. There were many other women who came up with him to Jerusalem.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At evening, since it was the day of Preparation, that is, the day before the Sabbath, Joseph of Arimathaea, an honorable member of the council, and one who expected the arrival of the Sovereignty of God, came, going in boldly to Pilate and asking for the body of Jesus.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pilate could not believe that Jesus was already dead. He called the centurion and asked if Jesus was dead. When the centurion said that Jesus was dead, Pilate gave the body to Joseph.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And Joseph bought fine linen and took Jesus down. He wrapped Jesus in the linen and laid him in a tomb that had been cut into rock. Then he rolled a stone to the door of the tomb. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mary Magdalene and Mary the mother of Joses watched, to see where Jesus was buried.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;Chapter Sixteen:  Prophecy Fulfilled&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When the Sabbath had past, Mary Magdalene, Mary, the mother of James, and Salome bought sweet spices in order to anoint the body. Thus, very early in the morning on first day of the week, they came to the tomb at the time of sunrise. As they walked, they discussed who would roll away the stone from the door of the tomb for them because the stone was very large. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When the women got there, they saw that the stone had already been rolled away. Entering into the tomb, they saw a certain young man sitting on the right side, clothed in a long white garment.  This frightened them. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But the young man said, “Don’t be frightened. You are searching for Jesus of Nazareth, who was crucified. He has raised up; he is not here. See, there is the place where they laid him. Go your way, tell his disciples and Peter that he went before you into Galilee. There you will see him, as he predicted to you.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The women hurried out, fleeing from the tomb, for they were trembling in amazement.  They said nothing to anyone, because they were very afraid.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(Here ends the early text of Mark.)   &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Commentary&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Why—or if—the Gospel According to Mark ended here is unknown. If the original did end here, “a certain young man” looms even larger, and more mysterious, in the narrative. If the original did end here, Jesus, having become the Child of Humanity, has gone back to Galilee. The women will have to lead the men to the truth. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What would it mean to have the ending be, “They said nothing to anyone, because they were very afraid”?  Certainly, such an ending underlines the incomprehension of the disciples. It also underlines the importance of the text we are reading, The Gospel According to Mark, since it is saying something and is not afraid. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If this is the original ending, it also underlines the extreme danger of following Jesus, perhaps challenging the audience of this book to get past fear and go tell everyone. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Longer Ending of the Gospel According to Mark&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After Jesus was raised, early on the first day of the week, he appeared first to Mary Magdalene, out of whom he had cast seven demons. She went and told the disciples as they mourned and wept. Yet, when they had heard that Jesus was alive and that Mary Magdalene had seen him, they would not believe it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After that, Jesus appeared in another form to two of them, as they walked out in the country. These two went and told what they had seen to the group, but no one would listen to them either.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Afterward Jesus appeared to the eleven as they sat at a meal, and upbraided them for their unbelief and hardness of heart, because they would not listen to those who had seen him after he was raised up. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jesus said to them, “Go out into all the world and preach the good news to every creature. Those who follow and are baptized shall be saved, but those who will not listen will be damned. Here are the signs that will occur to those who follow: In my name they will cast out demons; they will speak with new tongues; they will take up serpents; and, if they drink any deadly thing, it will not hurt them; they will lay hands on the sick, and the sick will recover.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So it was that after God had spoken to them, Jesus was received up into heaven, and he sat at the right hand of God.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thus it was that they went out, preaching everywhere, God working with them, and confirming the word with signs.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Amen.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6087500516859723396-3207576270776170159?l=deityanddouble.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://deityanddouble.blogspot.com/feeds/3207576270776170159/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6087500516859723396&amp;postID=3207576270776170159' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6087500516859723396/posts/default/3207576270776170159'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6087500516859723396/posts/default/3207576270776170159'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://deityanddouble.blogspot.com/2011/04/last-hours-of-jesus-translation-by.html' title='The Last Hours of Jesus a translation by David Breeden'/><author><name>d. breeden</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13190022994900518555</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_HVL3aXrFRuk/Se8u-eMIRWI/AAAAAAAAACs/iwOiEpc4QQM/S220/006.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6087500516859723396.post-5636241229442488621</id><published>2011-03-31T09:01:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2011-03-31T09:01:56.409-05:00</updated><title type='text'>The Gospel According to Thomas</title><content type='html'>Note:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This translation was constructed by the use of the original Coptic and Greek, directly consulting Michael Grondin's Coptic/English interlinear translation, Revised November 22, 2002, Copyright 1997, 2002 by Michael W. Grondin. All rights reserved. http://gospel thomas.net/xtransl.htm&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The author refered to translations by Willis Barnstone in The Other Bible: Ancient Esoteric Texts, HarperSanFrancisco, 1984 and The Gospel of Thomas: Annotated and Explained by Stevan Davies, Skylight Paths Publishing, 2002.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Gospel of Thomas is one of the texts discovered at Nag Hammadi, Egypt in 1945.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;These are the secret words that the living Jesus spoke. &lt;br /&gt;Didymos Judas Thomas wrote them down.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jesus said:  Whoever realizes the meaning of these words, that person will not experience death. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jesus said:  Do not stop until you find, and when you find, you will be troubled. Yet, having been troubled, you will become amazed, and then you will be a master over the All. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jesus said:  If those who lead you say, "Look, the Kingdom is inthe sky," then notice how the birds get there before you. If they should say to you, “Look, the Kingdom is in the sea," then notice how the fish get there before you.”  No—rather, the Kingdom is within you and also outside you. When you know yourselves, then they will know that you are children of the Parent.  If, however, you do not know yourselves, then you live in poverty, and you are poverty. &lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;4.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jesus said:  An old man will not hesitate to ask a baby about the source of life, and he will live.  There are many who are first who will become last, and the two will become one and the same. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jesus said:  See what is in front of your face, then what is hidden will be revealed. Nothing hidden will fail to appear.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;6.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The disciples asked Jesus:  Do you wish us tofast? How should we go about praying? Should we give to charity? Should we abstain from certain types of foods? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jesus said:  Do not tell lies. If there is something that you hate, do not do it, for everything is revealed to the sky. Nothing hidden will fail to appear, and nothing covered will fail to be revealed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;7.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jesus said:  Blessed is the lion that a human eats, because that lion becomes human. Cursed is the human that a lion eats, because that human becomes a lion. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;8.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jesus said:  A wise fisherman cast his net into the sea. He pulled it up full of little fish. Yet among them the wise fisherman found a good, large fish. So, he threw the small fish back into the sea, keeping the large one. Those with ears, let them hear. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;9.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jesus said:  Listen—there was a man who came out to sow seeds. He filled his hands with seeds and cast them. Some seeds fell upon the road; the birds came and ate those. Othere seeds fell onto rocks, and those seeds did not send roots down into the earth and did not send shafts rising into the sky. And some seeds fell into thorns, which choked the seeds, and the worms ate them. And other seeds fell upon the good earth, and those gave fruit up to the good sky. And the sower got 60 bushels from some and 120 from others. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;10.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jesus said:  I have cast fire upon the world, and, look, I watch as it burns.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;11.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jesus said:  This sky will pass away, and the sky above that will pass away. Those who are dead do not live, and those who live will not die. When you eat what is dead, you are making it alive. When you come to be in the light, what will you do? When you were one, you became two; when, however, you become two, what will you do? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;12.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The disciples said to Jesus:  We know that you will leave us. Who will lead us then?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jesus answered:  The place where you are, there turn to James the Just, for whose sake the sky and the earth came into being.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;13.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jesus said:  Think of comparisons. What am I like? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Simon Peter said:  You are like an angelic messenger. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Matthew said:  You are like a philosopher.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thomas said:  Teacher, my tongue cannot tell what you are like.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jesus said:  Thomas, I am not your teacher. You have gotten drunk on the bubbling spring which I measured out.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then Jesus took Thomas aside and spoke three things to him. When Thomas returned to the group, they asked him what Jesus had told him. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thomas said:  If I spoke to you even one of the words he spoke, you would take stones and throw them at me and a fire would come out of the stones and burn you. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;14.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jesus said to them:  If you fast, you will bring sin to yourselves; and if you pray, you will be condemned by others, and if you should give to charity, you will be doing damage to your spirits. When you go out into the world, when people accept you, eat what is put in front of you and heal the sick among those people. For what goes in your mouth does not defile you; rather it is what comes out of your mouth that defiles you. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;15.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jesus said:  When you see someone not born of woman, bow down and worship that one. He is your Father. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;16.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jesus said:  Perhaps people think that I have come to throw peace upon the world. They do not understand that I have come to throw divisions upon the earth—fire, sword, and war. There will be five in a house. There will be three opposing two and two against three. Father will oppose son and son oppose father. Each will stand and stand alone.&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;17.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jesus said:  I will give you what eyes have not seen, ears have not heard, hands have not touched, and minds have not thought.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;18.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The disciples said:  tell us about our end. How will it happen?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jesus said:  Have you found the beginning? Is that why you are now looking for the end? Where the beginning is, there is the end. The blessed will stand on twofeet at the beginning and will therefore know the end, never experiencing death. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;19.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jesus said:  The blessed is one who came into being at the beginning. If you become my disciple and listen to my words, these stones will serve you. There are five trees in paradise that do not change from summer to winter and do not lose their leaves. Those who know them will not experience death.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;20.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The disciples said to Jesus:  Tell us what the Kingdom of Heaven is like.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jesus said to them:  It is like a mustard seed, smallest of them all. However, when it falls on the earth it sends out branchs and becomes a shelter for the birds of the sky. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mary asked Jesus:  What are your disciples like? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jesus said:  They are like small children living in a field that is not theirs. When the owners of the field come, they will say, "Give us our field back." They will strip naked in the presence of the owners and give the field back to them. Therefore, I tell you this:  If the owner of a house knows a theif is coming, the owner will keep an eye open so that the theif does not sneak in and steal things. You must always keep watch on the world.  Arm yourselves with strength so that thieves will not ambush you, though the defense you have will be the defense that is attacked. Keep one with understanding in your midst always. When the grain was ripe, he hurried out with his sickle in his hand, in order to reap. Those with ears, let them hear. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;22.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jesus saw little ones nursing. He said to his disciples:  These little ones having milk, they are like those who enter into the Kingdom. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They said to Jesus:  Then we will enter into the Kingdom if we are little ones? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jesus said to them:  When you make two one, and when you make the inside like the outsid, and the outside like the inside, and the top like the bottom, and the male like the female, so that there is no male or female. When you make eyes that replace eyes, hands that replace hands, feet thatreplace feet, images that replace images, then you will enter the Kingdom.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;23.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jesus said:  I will choose you, one out of a thousand and two out of ten thousand. You will stand on you feet as if you were one.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;24.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;His disciples said to Jesus:  Show us the place where you are, since we must get there too. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jesus said to them:  Those with ears, let them hear. There is light inside a person of light that becomes light to the world. Those who have no light are darkness.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;25.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jesus said:  Love your brother like your soul. Guard him as if he were the pupil of your eye.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;26.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jesus said:  You see the mote in your brother’s eye, but you do not see the beam in your own. If you first get the beam out of your eye, then you will see well enough get the mote out of your brother’s eye.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;27.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jesus said:  If you do not fast from the world, you will not find the Kingdom; if you do not treat the Sabbath as Sabbath, you will not see the Father. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;28.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jesus said:  I have taken my stand in the world; I have appeared in the flesh. And I found everyone drunk; no one was thirsty.  My soul was pained for the children of the earth, for they are blind in their minds. They do not look outside themselves.  They came into the world empty and they seek to leave the world empty. For now, they are drunk; when they quite their drinking, then they will see.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;29.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jesus said:  If the flesh comes into being because of spirit, that is a wonder; if spirit, however, comes into being because of the body, that is a wonderous wonder. What amazes me is that this great richness has grown in this poverty.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;30.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jesus said:  Wherever there are three gods, they are gods; wherever there are two or one, I am with them. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;31.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jesus said:   No prophet is accepted in his own village; no physician heals those who know him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;32.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jesus said:  A city built and fortified on a mountain cannot be hidden. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;33.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jesus said: What you hear, preach that from the housetops; for is there anyone who lights a lamp and puts it under a basket? No, we put it on a lampstand so that everyone can use the light. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;34.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jesus said:  When the blind lead the blind, they all fall into a pit. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;35.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; Jesus said:  It is not possible to go into the house of a strong man and steal his goods unless he is bound first. Then his things can be stolen. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;36.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jesus said:  Do not worry from morning until evening and evening until morning about what you will wear.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;37.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;His disciples said:  When will you appear to us? Which day will we see you? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jesus said: When you strip yourselves naked without being ashamed, and you take your garments and stand on them like little children, trampling them, then you will look upon the Son of He Who Lives and you will not be afraid. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;38.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jesus said:  You have many times desired to hear these words which I am saying to you, and you have no one else to say them to you.  There will be some days that you seek for me and will not find me.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;39.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jesus said:  The Religious authorities and the scholars have taken the keys to knowledge and hidden them. They have not entered, nor do they allow those who desire knowledge to enter. You, however, will be cunning like snakes and innocent like doves. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;40.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jesus said:  They have planted a grapevine outside of the Father, but it will have no nourishment and it will be uprooted and destroyed. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;41.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jesus said:  He who has, he will get more; he who has not, even what little he was will be taken. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;42.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jesus said:  Be by passing by.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;43.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The disciples said to Jesus:  Who are you, that you say these things to us? &lt;br /&gt;Jesus said: When I speak these things, you do not realize who I am.  Rather, you are like those Judeans who love the tree yet hate the fruit or love the fruit yet hate the tree. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;44.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jesus said:  Whoever blasphemes against the Father will be forgiven; and whoever blasphemes against to the son, will be forgiven; whoever blasphemes against the Holy Spirit, however, will not be forgiven on the earth nor in the sky. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;45.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jesus said:  They do not harvest grapes out of thorns.  Nor do they gather figs out of thistles. Those do not produce fruit. A good man brings good things from his treasure; an evil man brings evil and wicked things out of his treasure, which is in his mind.  Out of the excesses of his mind he brings evil things. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;46.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jesus said:  From Adam up to John the Baptist, among those born of  women, no one has been more worthy of respect than John the Baptist. Still, as I have said, any of you who becomes like a little child will know the Kingdom and be more worthy of respect than John. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;47.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jesus said:  No way can anyone climb onto two horses or stretch two bows. No way can a servant serve two masters.  He will honor one and despise the other. No one drinks old wine and immediately  desires new wine. No one pours new wine into old wine skins because they would split open. Nor does anyone pour old wine into new wineskins because that would ruin the wine. No one sews old patches to new garments because that would split them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;48.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jesus said:  Should two make peace with each other in this house, they will be able to speak to a mountain saying, "Move away," and the mountain will move. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;49.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jesus said:  Blessed are those alone and chosen, for you will find the Kingdom, since you are from it and are going back there. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;50. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jesus said:  If they should ask you, "Where have you come from?" say this to them— "We have come from the light, the place where the light came into being, made by its own hand, standing forth in their image." If they should ask you, "Are you him?” say this—“We are his children, chosen by the living Father." If they should ask you, "What is the sign that your Father is in you?" say this to them—"It is movement and repose."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;51.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;His disciples said to Jesus:  When will the repose of the dead occur? And which day will the world become new? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jesus said to them:  What you have been looking for has come. But you do not know it. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;52.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;His disciples said to Jesus:  Twenty four prophets have spoken in Israel, and they spoke about you. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jesus said to them:  Speaking only about the dead, you have left out the living one who is in your presence. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;53.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;His disciples said to Jesus:   Is circumcision beneficial to us or not? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jesus said to them:  Were it benificial, children would be born circumcized. Rather, circumcision of the spirit is what is beneficial.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;54.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jesus said:  Blessed are poor, for yours is the Kingdom of Heaven.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;55.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jesus said:  Whoever does not hate his father and his mother cannot become my disciple. Whoever does not hate his brothers and sisters; whoever does not take up his cross as I do, he is not deserving of me. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;56.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jesus said:  Whoever has discovered the world has discovered a corpse, and whoever has discovered a corpse, the world is not worthy of him. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;57.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jesus said:  The Kingdom of the Father is like a man who has sown good seed; but his enemy came in the night and sowed weeds over the good seed. The man did not allow anyone to pull up the weeds, saying, “You will go to pull up the weeds, but will pull up the good seeds as well. At the time of harvest, the weeds will be plain to see. Then we will pull them up and burn them.” &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;58.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jesus said:  Blessed is he who is troubled; he has found Life. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;59.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jesus said:  Keep in mind He who lives while you are living lest, when you die, you begin seeking and cannot find. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;60.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There was a Samaritan carrying a lamb and going to Judea. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jesus asked his disciples:  Why is that man carrying a lamb? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The disciples said to Jesus:  So that he can kill it and eat it. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jesus said to them:  While the lamb is alive, the man will not eat it; rather, he will eat it after the lamb has become a corpse. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The disciples said:  That is the only way.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jesus said to them:  You yourselves must seek a place of repose, lest you be killed and eaten.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;61.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jesus said:  There will be two in one bed; one will die, the other will live. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Salome said:  Who are you that climbed into my bed and ate off my table?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jesus answered:  I am he who came from he who is the same.  I have received from the Father.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Salome said:  I am your disciple. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jesus said:  If he is one, he is light. If, however, he should be divided, he will of darkness. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;62.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jesus said:  I speak of my mysteries to those worthy of my mysteries. Do not let your right hand know what your left is doing.   &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;63.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jesus said:  There was a rich man who said, "I will spend my riches in sowing and reaping, filling my storehouse with grain so that I need nothing." These were his thoughts. That night, he died.  Those with ears, let them hear. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;64.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jesus said:  A man had some visitors. When dinner was ready, the man sent his servant to call the visitors. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The sevent went to the first and said, “My master calls you.” &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The first one said, "I have to pay some traders and order some things. I cannot come to dinner." &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The servent went to the second and said, “My master calls you."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The second said, “I have just bought a house and must complete the deal. I cannot come to dinner."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The servent went to the third, saying, "My master calls you."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The third one said, “My friend is getting married and there is a party. I cannot come tonight.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The servent went to another, saying, “My master calls you.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That one said, "I have just bought a farm and have to pay the taxes. I cannot come.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The servent came back to the master and said, "Those you invited have all begged off." &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The master said, "Go outside to the road and invite to my dinner anyone you meet.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Buyers and traders will not meet my Father. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;65.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jesus said:  A just man owned a vineyard. He hired tenants to work the vineyard for a part of the crop.  The just man sent a servent to collect his portion.  The tenants grabbed the servent and beat him. Another went, and they nearly killed him.  The just man thought, “Perhaps they did not know who he was.” He sent another servent, but the tenants beat that one too.  Then the just man sent his son, saying, "Perhaps they will be ashamed when they see my son."  But the tenants, knowing the son to be the heir of the vineyard, seized him and killed him. Those with ears, let them hear. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;66.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jesus said:  Show me the stone, the one the builders refused; that is the cornerstone. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;67.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jesus said:  One who knows it all but does not know himself doesn’t know anything. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;68.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jesus said:  Blessed are you when they hate you and persecute you. Those who persecute you will never find a place. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;69.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jesus said:  Blessed are those who have persecuted themselves, for they truly know the Father.  Blessed are the hungry, for the belly of those who desire will be filled.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;70.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jesus said:  When you conceive for yourself, you save youself.  That which you do not have in youself will kill you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;71.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jesus said:  I will destroy this house, and no one will rebuild it, ever.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;72.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A man said to Jesus:  Speak to my brothers so that they will divide my father’s estate with me. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jesus said to the man:  Who made me a divider? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jesus turned to his disciples and said: Serioiusly—am I a divider? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;73.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jesus said:  The harvest indeed is plentiful; the laborers, however, are few; pray to the Lord to send laborers out to the harvest.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;74.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jesus said:  Oh, Lord, there are many around the well but no water inside.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;75.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jesus said:  There are many standing at the door, but only those alone will enter into the place of marriage. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;76.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jesus said:  The Kingdom of the Father is like a merchant who had a consignment. The merchant found a pearl. He was wise and so sold the consignment and bought the pearl for himself. You, also, should seek after treasure that does not perish, a place no moth approaches and no worms destroy. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;77.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jesus said:  I am the light above all lights. I am the All; the All comes from me and all goes back to me. Split timber and find me there; lift a stone and find me there. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;78.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jesus said:  Why did you come to the field? To watch a reed moving in the wind? And to watch rulers and powerful men in fancy clothes?  Those in expensive garments will not know the truth. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;79.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A woman in the crowd said:  Blessed is she who bore you, she whose breasts nourished you. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jesus said to the woman:  Blessed are they who have listened to the word of the Father and done it.  The days will come when you will say, "Blessed is she who did not bear children, she whose breasts never nourished." &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;80.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jesus said:  Whoever has known the world has found the body; whoever has found the body, however—the world is not worthy of him. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;81.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jesus said:  Whoever has become rich, let him become king, and he who has power, let him abdicate. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;82.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jesus said:  He who is close to me is close to the fire, and he who is far from me is far from the Kingdom. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;83.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jesus said:  People see images and the light in them. The light of the Father is hidden in the image, though it will be revealed. His image is hidden in his light. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;84.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jesus said: You rejoice in your own likeness. However, when you look upon your likeness that came into being before your birth and that will not die, how much can you bear?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;85.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jesus said:  Adam came into being out of great power and great richness, yet he is not worthy of you. Otherwise, he would not have experienced death. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;86.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jesus said:  Foxes have their dens and birds have their nests; the Son of Man, however, has no place to lay his head and rest. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;87.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jesus said:  Wretched is body that depends upon body and soul that depends upon two.   &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;88.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jesus said:  The angels and the prophets come to you, giving you what you have already.  You yourselves give them what you have, saying, "When will they come and take what is theirs?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;89.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jesus said:  Why wash the outside of a cup? Do you not understand that whoever created the inside also created the outside? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;90.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jesus said:  Come to me, for my yoke is light and my lordship gentle. You will find rest.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;91.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They said to Jesus:  Tell us who you are so that we may believe you. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jesus said:  You read the face of the sky and the earth, yet you do not see who is right here. You do not know how to read the time. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;92.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jesus said:  Seek and you will find. In the past I did not answer you when you asked me. Now, I wish to tell, but you do not ask. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;93.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jesus said:  Do not give what is holy to the dogs since it will end up in a dungheap; do not cast pearls to swine.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;94.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jesus said:  He who seeks, he will find; he who knocks, he will be let in.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;95.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jesus said:  If you have money, do not lend it at interest. Rather, give it to someone who you know will not return it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;96.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jesus said: The Kingdom of the Father is like a woman who took a little leaven and hid it in dough; with it, she made huge loaves of bread. Those with ears, let them hear.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;97.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jesus said:  The Kingdom of the Father is like a woman walking on a road carrying a jar full of meal.  She did not hear the jar crack and did not know the meal was emptying out onto the road.  When she got home, she put the jar down and only then saw that it was empty. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;98.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jesus said:  The Kingdom of the Father is like a man who wanted to kill a more powerful man. The man practiced with his sword at home, sticking it into the wall. Then he killed the more powerful man. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;99.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The disciples said:  Your brothers and your mother are standing outside. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jesus said to them:  Those here who do the will of my Father are my brothers and my mother.   They enter the Kingdom of my Father.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;100.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They showed a coin to Jesus and said:  Caesar’s agents demand taxes from us. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jesus said to them:  Give Caesar what is Caesar’s, give God what is God’s. And give me what is mine. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;101.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jesus said: Whoever does not hate his father and mother as I do cannot become my disciple; whoever does not love his father and mother as I do cannot become my disciple. My mother gave birth to me; she gave me life but not The Life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;102.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jesus said:  Woe tothe religious authorities, for they are like a dog resting in a manger. The dog neither eats nor allows the oxen to eat. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;103.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jesus said:  Blessed is he who knows where the thieves come in so that he may prepare himself. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;104.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They said to Jesus:  Come, pray and fast today. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jesus said:  What have I done wrong? How have I lost the battle? When the bridegroom is gone, then will be the time to fast and pray. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;105.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jesus said:  Those who know both father and mother will be called “child of a whore.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; 106.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jesus said:  When you make the two one, you will come to be the Sons of Man. Then, if you should say, "mountain, move away," it will move. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;107.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jesus said:  The Kingdom is like a shepherd with his sheep. The largest sheep wandered off. So, the shepherd left ninety nine sheep and went searching for the one until he found it. Then, the shepherd said, “I love you more than the ninety nine.” &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;108.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jesus said:  Whoever drinks out of my mouth, that person will be as I am; also, I will come to be as that person is, and the hidden will be revealed. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;109.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jesus said:  The Kingdom is like a man who had a treasure in his field that he did not know about. When the man died, he left the field to his son. The son did not know of the treasure either. He gave the field away. The new owner plowed the field and found the treasure. He became a rich man. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;110.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jesus said:  Whoever has found the world and become rich, let him abdicate from the world.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;111.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jesus said:  The heavens and the earth will be rolled up in front of you; those who live out of he who lives, those will not see death.  As I have said, whoever discovers the world is superior to the world. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;112.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jesus said:  Woe to flesh that depends on the soul; woe to soul that depends on the flesh. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;113.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;His disciples said to Jesus:  Which day is the Kingdom coming? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jesus said: It is not coming because of watching.  No one can say, "Look, there!" or "Look, over there!"  Rather, the Kingdom of the Father is spreading upon the earth, though people are not looking at it. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;114.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Simon Peter said to them:  Mary should leave us, for women are not worthy of The Life. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jesus said:  Look, I will lead her and make her male so that she herself will be a living spirit resembling you males, for any woman who makes herself male will enter the Kingdom of Heaven.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Gospel According to Thomas&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6087500516859723396-5636241229442488621?l=deityanddouble.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://deityanddouble.blogspot.com/feeds/5636241229442488621/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6087500516859723396&amp;postID=5636241229442488621' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6087500516859723396/posts/default/5636241229442488621'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6087500516859723396/posts/default/5636241229442488621'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://deityanddouble.blogspot.com/2011/03/gospel-according-to-thomas.html' title='The Gospel According to Thomas'/><author><name>d. breeden</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13190022994900518555</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_HVL3aXrFRuk/Se8u-eMIRWI/AAAAAAAAACs/iwOiEpc4QQM/S220/006.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6087500516859723396.post-6457658838796579825</id><published>2011-03-03T16:09:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2011-03-03T16:09:30.177-06:00</updated><title type='text'>An Adaptation of Ecclesiastes</title><content type='html'>These are the words of the Teacher, the son of David, king in Jerusalem:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The airiest of air, says the Teacher, airiest of air; all is empty air. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What is the product of all our labors under the sun? One generation passes away and another generation rises; but the earth abides on and on.  The sun also rises and the sun goes down, hastening again to the place where it arose. The wind blows toward the south, then turns to the north; it whirls about continually, and the wind returns again and again according to its circuits. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All the rivers run into the sea, yet the sea is not full; unto the place from whence the rivers came, there they return. Everything is full of trouble; the tongue cannot express how much trouble. The eye is not satisfied in its seeing; the ear is not filled with hearing.&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;That which has been, that is what shall be; and that which has been done is that which shall be done: there is no new thing under the sun. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Is there anything of which it can be said, Look, that is new? No—it has been seen before. &lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;There is no remembrance of things past, nor shall there be remembrance of things to come.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I, the Teacher, was king of all Israel, in Jerusalem.  And I gave all my heart to the search for wisdom concerning all the things done under heaven. God has given this sad work to the children of humanity. I have seen all the works that have been done under the sun; and, behold: all is air; all is vexation of the spirit. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That which is crooked cannot be made straight: and that which is lacking cannot be counted. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I spoke with my heart, saying, Look, I have risen to a mighty place, and I have acquired more wisdom than all who have come before me in Jerusalem. Yes, I have great wisdom and knowledge. I dedicated myself to wisdom; I committed myself to learning madness and folly. Yet, I know this also is vexation of spirit. For in much wisdom is much grief and those who increase in knowledge also grow in sorrow.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6087500516859723396-6457658838796579825?l=deityanddouble.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://deityanddouble.blogspot.com/feeds/6457658838796579825/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6087500516859723396&amp;postID=6457658838796579825' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6087500516859723396/posts/default/6457658838796579825'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6087500516859723396/posts/default/6457658838796579825'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://deityanddouble.blogspot.com/2011/03/adaptation-of-ecclesiastes.html' title='An Adaptation of Ecclesiastes'/><author><name>d. breeden</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13190022994900518555</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_HVL3aXrFRuk/Se8u-eMIRWI/AAAAAAAAACs/iwOiEpc4QQM/S220/006.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6087500516859723396.post-3261788754435819622</id><published>2011-02-21T19:53:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2011-02-21T19:53:08.541-06:00</updated><title type='text'>For God Then Apparently (Genesis 22: 1-12)</title><content type='html'>And it came to pass&lt;br /&gt;that God did test Abraham,&lt;br /&gt;and said unto him: “Abraham,” &lt;br /&gt;and Abraham, patriarch,&lt;br /&gt;madman, said: “Here am I.” &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For God then apparently&lt;br /&gt;knew not where &lt;br /&gt;everyone was . . &lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;“Take now thy son, &lt;br /&gt;thine only son&lt;br /&gt;(for some don't count&lt;br /&gt;all that much),&lt;br /&gt;whom thou lovest, &lt;br /&gt;even Isaac, that son,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and get thee to Moriah; &lt;br /&gt;and offer him there &lt;br /&gt;for a burnt-offering &lt;br /&gt;upon one of the mountains &lt;br /&gt;which I will tell thee of.” &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For God then apparently&lt;br /&gt;spoke like that&lt;br /&gt;or leastways apparently&lt;br /&gt;humans heard like that;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;And this is a story of obedience;&lt;br /&gt;and this is a story of obsession;&lt;br /&gt;and this is a story &lt;br /&gt;that makes no sense &lt;br /&gt;aside those mad for fervor. &lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;And Abraham took the wood&lt;br /&gt;and laid it upon Isaac his son; &lt;br /&gt;for the low&lt;br /&gt;do the carrying,&lt;br /&gt;and he took in his hand the fire &lt;br /&gt;and the knife&lt;br /&gt;for the high&lt;br /&gt;have the killing stuff; &lt;br /&gt;and they went &lt;br /&gt;both of them together. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For you must then&lt;br /&gt;kill your pretty ones;&lt;br /&gt;it is an obsession&lt;br /&gt;drives artists mad.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And Abraham stretched forth his hand,&lt;br /&gt;and took the knife to slay his son. &lt;br /&gt;For God then apparently&lt;br /&gt;had given us neither&lt;br /&gt;firing squad,&lt;br /&gt;chairs electric,&lt;br /&gt;chambers of gas, nor&lt;br /&gt;lethal injection.&lt;br /&gt;And the angel of the LORD&lt;br /&gt;out of heaven&lt;br /&gt;called to that wretched father,&lt;br /&gt;saying, “Abraham, Abraham." &lt;br /&gt;And he said: "Here am I."&lt;br /&gt;And that angel up there said: &lt;br /&gt;“Lay not thy hand upon the lad, &lt;br /&gt;neither do thou any thing unto him; &lt;br /&gt;for now I know that thou art &lt;br /&gt;a God-fearing man, seeing &lt;br /&gt;thou hast not withheld thy son, &lt;br /&gt;even thine only son, &lt;br /&gt;at least the one that really matters,&lt;br /&gt;from Me." &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For God then&lt;br /&gt;didn't know&lt;br /&gt;the hearts of men,&lt;br /&gt;how we do dream of killing&lt;br /&gt;all our pretty ones . . . &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No,&lt;br /&gt;apparently not.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6087500516859723396-3261788754435819622?l=deityanddouble.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://deityanddouble.blogspot.com/feeds/3261788754435819622/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6087500516859723396&amp;postID=3261788754435819622' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6087500516859723396/posts/default/3261788754435819622'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6087500516859723396/posts/default/3261788754435819622'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://deityanddouble.blogspot.com/2011/02/for-god-then-apparently-genesis-22-1-12.html' title='For God Then Apparently (Genesis 22: 1-12)'/><author><name>d. breeden</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13190022994900518555</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_HVL3aXrFRuk/Se8u-eMIRWI/AAAAAAAAACs/iwOiEpc4QQM/S220/006.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6087500516859723396.post-6445034608984752098</id><published>2011-02-12T13:53:00.001-06:00</published><updated>2011-02-12T13:53:05.183-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Presidents' Days</title><content type='html'>In the old United States always&lt;br /&gt;there were pictures on the wall&lt;br /&gt;of presidents in oval&lt;br /&gt;Washington and Lincoln&lt;br /&gt;in the drear light of Winter&lt;br /&gt;and we were given&lt;br /&gt;we students of February&lt;br /&gt;to know they were great&lt;br /&gt;and we and our timelessness&lt;br /&gt;second-best at best&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;our space race&lt;br /&gt;our arms race&lt;br /&gt;our mutually &lt;br /&gt;assured destruction&lt;br /&gt;our dominoes&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;our Vietnam&lt;br /&gt;well, that was our Vietnam&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;in the old United States always&lt;br /&gt;we were given to know&lt;br /&gt;we students in February&lt;br /&gt;that the winter of our discontent&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;was second best at best&lt;br /&gt;to the wars of the men&lt;br /&gt;in their oval portraits&lt;br /&gt;defining moments&lt;br /&gt;unlike our sour February&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;that it was our Vietnam&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6087500516859723396-6445034608984752098?l=deityanddouble.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://deityanddouble.blogspot.com/feeds/6445034608984752098/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6087500516859723396&amp;postID=6445034608984752098' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6087500516859723396/posts/default/6445034608984752098'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6087500516859723396/posts/default/6445034608984752098'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://deityanddouble.blogspot.com/2011/02/presidents-days.html' title='Presidents&apos; Days'/><author><name>d. breeden</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13190022994900518555</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_HVL3aXrFRuk/Se8u-eMIRWI/AAAAAAAAACs/iwOiEpc4QQM/S220/006.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6087500516859723396.post-2552514166761566374</id><published>2011-01-28T10:18:00.001-06:00</published><updated>2011-01-28T10:18:23.474-06:00</updated><title type='text'>The Big Question</title><content type='html'>After the death&lt;br /&gt;Is&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What about&lt;br /&gt;His dog?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6087500516859723396-2552514166761566374?l=deityanddouble.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://deityanddouble.blogspot.com/feeds/2552514166761566374/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6087500516859723396&amp;postID=2552514166761566374' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6087500516859723396/posts/default/2552514166761566374'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6087500516859723396/posts/default/2552514166761566374'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://deityanddouble.blogspot.com/2011/01/big-question.html' title='The Big Question'/><author><name>d. breeden</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13190022994900518555</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_HVL3aXrFRuk/Se8u-eMIRWI/AAAAAAAAACs/iwOiEpc4QQM/S220/006.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6087500516859723396.post-8456433498782597432</id><published>2011-01-06T11:27:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2011-01-06T11:27:21.626-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Grandmother Spider Brings the Light</title><content type='html'>(a retelling of a Cherokee myth)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Long, long ago, everything was dark. &lt;br /&gt;All the living things that moved kept running into each other, and into mountains and trees.  Everything was very, very confusing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One day, Rooster said, “You know, what we need is some light!”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Fox said, “Hey, I’ve heard of that.  And I’ve heard that over there, on the other side of the world, they have lots and lots of it but the animals are greedy there and will not share.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Fish said, “The other side of the world? Well, I can’t swim that far!”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Gopher said, “I would go . . . but if I see my shadow, I have to go back to my den and sleep.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Bear said, “I would rather hibernate, thank you very much.”&lt;br /&gt;Rooster said, “Be that way! If we don’t get a sunrise around here, I swear, I will never crow again!”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Well then,” said Possum, “I will just go steal some light and hide it in my beautiful, bushy tail.” (Yes, believe it or not, in those days, Possum had a beautiful, bushy tail.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And so it was that Possum set off, and when he got to the other side of the world, there was sun, hanging from a tree. Up lept Possum, and grabbed a piece of the light. Possum tucked it into his beautiful bushy tail and ran. But the light was so hot, it burned all the fur from Possum’s tail. And so it is that Possum has a bald tail, even down to this day.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Well, that was a failure!” said Buzzard. “But Possum is always messing things up.  I shall go and steal some light and put it on my head.” (For in those days, buzzards had large, beautiful feathers all over their heads.)  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And so it was that off Buzzard flew to the other side of the world. When he saw the sun, down Buzzard darted in a flash, balancing a piece of the light on his head. &lt;br /&gt;And the light was so hot that it burned all the feathers off Buzzard’s head. So it is that Buzzard is bald, even down to this day.&lt;br /&gt;The animals bumped into each other and into the trees and the mountains, and they felt very distressed, fearing that life would always be so. They did not like the dark one little bit. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And so it was that Grandmother Spider said, "If no one objects, I think I will try.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“But you are so small and frail!” laughed Possum.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Those greedy animals there, they will stomp on you and crush you!” said Raven. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Grandmother Spider ignored their laughter and began making a pot out of the clay of the earth. Then, she spun a web. And she spun and she spun until her web reached all the way to the other side of the world. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Off Grandmother Spider swung on her web, holding tightly to her clay pot. And, when she had gotten to the other side of the world, she swooped toward the sun hanging in a tree, grabbed a piece of the light, and immediately stuffed it into the clay pot. Then, off she went on her spider web, back to the other side of the world. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And so it was that Grandmother Spider brought many things to this side of the world—firstly, she brought the knowledge of how to make clay pots; secondly, she brought fire, for cooking and for when the sun isn’t up; and, lastly and most of all, Grandmother Spider brought this side of the world the light of the sun.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6087500516859723396-8456433498782597432?l=deityanddouble.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://deityanddouble.blogspot.com/feeds/8456433498782597432/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6087500516859723396&amp;postID=8456433498782597432' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6087500516859723396/posts/default/8456433498782597432'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6087500516859723396/posts/default/8456433498782597432'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://deityanddouble.blogspot.com/2011/01/grandmother-spider-brings-light.html' title='Grandmother Spider Brings the Light'/><author><name>d. breeden</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13190022994900518555</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_HVL3aXrFRuk/Se8u-eMIRWI/AAAAAAAAACs/iwOiEpc4QQM/S220/006.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6087500516859723396.post-5419350358140035825</id><published>2010-11-30T12:29:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2010-11-30T12:29:17.025-06:00</updated><title type='text'>A Story for Winter Solstice</title><content type='html'>Once there was a time when always it was spring, with the singing of birds, beautiful flowers, and lush greenness all the year through.  In this world lived a young girl named Persephone who loved to dance and play in the sunny meadow as her mother, Demeter, Goddess of Growth and Grain, looked on, and her father, none other than Zeus himself, the sky god, watched from Mount Olympus. As Persephone would dance and sing, she gathered beautiful flowers. She could never decide if the hyacinth or the narcissus was her favorite. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Many of the gods on Olympus courted Persephone—Hermes, the fleet-footed messenger of the gods; Ares, the fearsome god of wars; Hephaestus, the marvelous blacksmith; and even Apollo, most handsome and most accomplished of the gods. But despite all their courting, Persephone went on dancing in the green and eternal spring days. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One day when Persephone was out dancing among the flowers, she heard a very strange sound. Then she heard it again. And again. Persephone looked and looked for the sound, and eventually she came to a very deep and dark hole in the ground.  The strange sound was coming from somewhere deep inside the earth. Persephone listened and listened and—because she leaned so far to hear the sound—she fell into the hole.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Persephone fell and fell in the darkness.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Finally, she felt a stone floor, and who should be there, as surprised as she was, but Hades, the fearsome god of the underworld. He immediately fell deeply and hopelessly in love with Persephone.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Meanwhile, up above, on the earth, Persephone’s mother Demeter, Goddess of Growth and Grain, was looking for her daughter.  Demeter called and called and searched and searched everywhere, but it was as if Persephone had simply vanished. In her grief, Demeter forgot about the flowers and trees and grasses and grains, and as she mourned, all green things died. Thus it was that winter came upon the world for the first time. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Meanwhile, in the underworld, Hades said to Persephone:  “You don’t appear to be dead!”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“No, I don’t think I am,” said Persephone. “I was listening to a very odd sound, and I fell into a deep hole. So this is the Underworld?” &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Yes, welcome,” Hades said, “Most likely, it was the beating of the oars on Charon’s boat. He brings the dead here across a river.” &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“I like it here,” Persephone said, “even if I’m not dead.”  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“I’m very pleased,” said Hades. “Why don’t you stay? You can be wife and the queen of my realm.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Persephone thought that was a very good idea. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Meanwhile, up on the earth’s surface, Demeter searched and searched, weeping all the while, and, instead of being healthy and full of life, as the eternal gods always are, Demeter had in her grief aged and withered as had all the living things on the face of the earth. Soon, Demeter could barely walk, and so she despaired of ever finding her dear daughter, and so as a last resort she went to Olympus, home of the gods, to see if Zeus could find Persephone. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When Demeter arrived on Olympus, she immediately caught wind of the rumors that her dear daughter was alive and well and living in the Underworld. And so, off she went to Zeus, insisting that Persephone be returned to her at once. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Zeus was by this time quite concerned that every living thing upon the earth would perish if Demeter did not return to her job of caring for growth and the grains, and so Zeus dispatched the swift-footed Hermes to the underworld with a stern warning to Hades to send Persephone home at once. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But what should Hermes find upon his arrival in the underworld but a radiant, laughing Persephone who was having a marvelous time in her role of Queen of All the Dead. Persephone loved greeting the newly arrived dead; she enjoyed chatting with them about their lives; and she enjoyed helping everyone to get comfortable in their new abode in the Underworld. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The startled Hermes rushed to Persephone and said, “Your mother is worried sick about you!”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Oh!” said Persephone, “I had forgotten all about that other world!”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“But you must return!” said Hermes.  “The world above is in a terrible state.” &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“But I love it here!” Persephone said. “I love my work and I love my husband Hades!”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“But all the earth is dying because of the sadness of Demeter!” Hermes protested. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And so it was that Persephone reluctantly returned to the Upperworld to visit her mother. When she appeared, immediately, the sun began to glow again, and the earth grew warm and green, and the flowers bloomed beautifully. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yet, just as the Upperworld had grown warm and fruitful again, Hades and all those who lived in his kingdom had grown sad without Persephone. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So it was that Zeus had a problem. And he thought and thought and finally found a solution. A compromise that we live with to this day. So it is that every year, at the Summer Solstice, Persephone packs her bags and heads for the Underworld to visit her husband Hades. And the days grow short and the light grows dim and the flowers fade and soon it becomes winter. But Hades and all the dead are very happy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then, at the Winter Solstice, Persephone packs her bags and leaves the Underworld. And when she does, the days grow longer and longer and the light begins to return to this world and once again the flowers prepare to return. And her mother Demeter is very happy. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;adapted by David Breeden&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6087500516859723396-5419350358140035825?l=deityanddouble.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://deityanddouble.blogspot.com/feeds/5419350358140035825/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6087500516859723396&amp;postID=5419350358140035825' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6087500516859723396/posts/default/5419350358140035825'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6087500516859723396/posts/default/5419350358140035825'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://deityanddouble.blogspot.com/2010/11/story-for-winter-solstice.html' title='A Story for Winter Solstice'/><author><name>d. breeden</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13190022994900518555</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_HVL3aXrFRuk/Se8u-eMIRWI/AAAAAAAAACs/iwOiEpc4QQM/S220/006.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6087500516859723396.post-6161645402282284607</id><published>2010-11-09T09:37:00.001-06:00</published><updated>2010-11-09T09:37:14.257-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Devotional Volume</title><content type='html'>Those of you &lt;br /&gt;Who wrestled &lt;br /&gt;all night&lt;br /&gt;with an angel,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;when was it&lt;br /&gt;--at what point&lt;br /&gt;did you realize--&lt;br /&gt;it was no body?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When was it&lt;br /&gt;you found that&lt;br /&gt;the breath &lt;br /&gt;came in,&lt;br /&gt;saving grace, &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and went out,  &lt;br /&gt;saving grace,&lt;br /&gt;both ways &lt;br /&gt;the same? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When was it&lt;br /&gt;you found&lt;br /&gt;the courage&lt;br /&gt;to insist&lt;br /&gt;on blessing?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I will call you&lt;br /&gt;all of you &lt;br /&gt;those who &lt;br /&gt;wrestle with &lt;br /&gt;an angel &lt;br /&gt;all night.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6087500516859723396-6161645402282284607?l=deityanddouble.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='related' href='http://www.drpoetry.com' title='Devotional Volume'/><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://deityanddouble.blogspot.com/feeds/6161645402282284607/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6087500516859723396&amp;postID=6161645402282284607' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6087500516859723396/posts/default/6161645402282284607'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6087500516859723396/posts/default/6161645402282284607'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://deityanddouble.blogspot.com/2010/11/devotional-volume.html' title='Devotional Volume'/><author><name>d. breeden</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13190022994900518555</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_HVL3aXrFRuk/Se8u-eMIRWI/AAAAAAAAACs/iwOiEpc4QQM/S220/006.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6087500516859723396.post-255708237707917868</id><published>2010-10-28T16:25:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2010-10-28T16:25:49.729-05:00</updated><title type='text'>John Keats</title><content type='html'>The Sun, the Moon, the Earth and its contents, are material to form greater things, that is, ethereal things—greater things than the Creator himself made.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6087500516859723396-255708237707917868?l=deityanddouble.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://deityanddouble.blogspot.com/feeds/255708237707917868/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6087500516859723396&amp;postID=255708237707917868' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6087500516859723396/posts/default/255708237707917868'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6087500516859723396/posts/default/255708237707917868'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://deityanddouble.blogspot.com/2010/10/john-keats.html' title='John Keats'/><author><name>d. breeden</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13190022994900518555</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_HVL3aXrFRuk/Se8u-eMIRWI/AAAAAAAAACs/iwOiEpc4QQM/S220/006.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6087500516859723396.post-724001730194798485</id><published>2010-09-28T08:32:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2010-09-28T08:32:47.676-05:00</updated><title type='text'>A Pantoum on Self Destruction based on Aesop</title><content type='html'>An eagle was soaring through the air &lt;br /&gt;When suddenly she heard &lt;br /&gt;The whiz of an arrow &lt;br /&gt;And felt her death-wound.&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;When suddenly she heard, &lt;br /&gt;Slowly she fluttered to the earth &lt;br /&gt;And felt her death-wound.&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;And the feather on its shaft was hers. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Slowly she fluttered to the earth. &lt;br /&gt;The whiz of an arrow—  &lt;br /&gt;And the feather on its shaft was hers &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;An eagle was soaring through the air.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6087500516859723396-724001730194798485?l=deityanddouble.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://deityanddouble.blogspot.com/feeds/724001730194798485/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6087500516859723396&amp;postID=724001730194798485' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6087500516859723396/posts/default/724001730194798485'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6087500516859723396/posts/default/724001730194798485'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://deityanddouble.blogspot.com/2010/09/pantoum-on-self-destruction-based-on.html' title='A Pantoum on Self Destruction based on Aesop'/><author><name>d. breeden</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13190022994900518555</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_HVL3aXrFRuk/Se8u-eMIRWI/AAAAAAAAACs/iwOiEpc4QQM/S220/006.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6087500516859723396.post-956917307496591385</id><published>2010-09-02T12:40:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2010-09-02T12:40:23.878-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Skinny Night Bear: A Children’s Story about Fear and Imagination</title><content type='html'>When I was a kid, I was afraid of the dark, though I wasn’t afraid of just anything in the dark; I was afraid of the Skinny Night Bear.  &lt;br /&gt; Perhaps you haven’t heard of the Skinny Night Bear. My parents hadn’t! And I’m not for certain just where I heard of the Skinny Night Bear either. But I was very, very afraid of the Skinny Night Bear. &lt;br /&gt; Like my parents, I’m still not exactly sure what a Skinny Night Bear looks like, but I am pretty sure it is black and white, because TVs were all in black and white when I was a kid. This made television a whole lot scarier. (Or at least I think so.) I am pretty sure I got the idea on television. &lt;br /&gt; According to my vague fear, the Skinny Night Bear looked in some ways like a skeleton, the sorts that are everywhere at Halloween. Skeletons are certainly “skinny.” I am less sure where I got the “bear” part of my fantasy, except that bears are tall and scary when they stand on their hind legs. I am sure I had seen bears on television—in black and white. &lt;br /&gt; The “night” part is easier to explain. As I said earlier, the dark scared me.&lt;br /&gt; One last detail concerning the Skinny Night Bear: I was convinced it had wheels. This detail doesn’t exactly make sense, except that wheels make things go fast, and I was convinced that a Skinny Night Bear would come rushing into my bedroom.&lt;br /&gt;  The point is that I don’t know exactly what a Skinny Night Bear looks like. . .because I never actually SAW a Skinny Night Bear, despite all the time I spent LOOKING for one. &lt;br /&gt; The Skinny Night Bear was scary because it lived in my imagination. And this is why the Skinny Night Bear was a creature of the dark: darkness is the place where our imaginations are most at play. I could create the vision of a Skinny Night Bear on the darkness in my room, just as I THOUGHT I had seen him on the black and white television. But the fact is, I never saw such a thing anywhere.&lt;br /&gt; I created the Skinny Night Bear out of fear, in my own imagination. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; Which is one thing about fear: We imagine having a medical procedure; we think it’s going to be terrible, yet when we have it. . . it’s not all that bad.  Fear encourages our imaginations to run away with us—as if they were on wheels. Imagination is a wonderful human ability, but it can run away with us, especially when fear gets involved. &lt;br /&gt; Sometimes we have to stop. &lt;br /&gt; And take a deep breath. &lt;br /&gt; And relax.&lt;br /&gt; And really look at the things that scare us. &lt;br /&gt; When we take some time to consider, things like Skinny Night Bears aren’t even there. And things like medical procedures usually aren’t all that bad. &lt;br /&gt; As for the dark— it can be a very friendly place. Even a place where we imagine good things, like friendly purple dragons or big yellow fish. And, if you really try, maybe even a friendly Skinny Night Bear on wheels.&lt;br /&gt; So much of what we are is in the words and the imagination. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; It’s poetry all the way down.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6087500516859723396-956917307496591385?l=deityanddouble.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://deityanddouble.blogspot.com/feeds/956917307496591385/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6087500516859723396&amp;postID=956917307496591385' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6087500516859723396/posts/default/956917307496591385'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6087500516859723396/posts/default/956917307496591385'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://deityanddouble.blogspot.com/2010/09/skinny-night-bear-childrens-story-about.html' title='Skinny Night Bear: A Children’s Story about Fear and Imagination'/><author><name>d. breeden</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13190022994900518555</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_HVL3aXrFRuk/Se8u-eMIRWI/AAAAAAAAACs/iwOiEpc4QQM/S220/006.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6087500516859723396.post-3495639775177964589</id><published>2010-08-23T13:43:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2010-08-23T13:43:49.056-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Spiritual but Not Religious</title><content type='html'>“Ekstasis,” the Greek word from whence comes the English word “ecstatic,” means displacement or trance. It literally means being “beside yourself.”  Notice that the word includes the term “static.”  Meaning, the same; autopilot. “Ek” is a Greek preposition meaning “out” or “from.”  Ek-static is being out of our stasis. This state is a central focus of religious and spiritual practice. &lt;br /&gt; Definitions can be slippery, but the difference between “religion” and “spirituality” is important. &lt;br /&gt; “Spirituality,” as I see it, is the impulse to awe and wonder in the face of human reality. We do lots of things with this impulse, including art and philosophy, dancing and hiking. Lots of things. Anything that pushes our impulse of awe and wonder toward what we call transcendence—toward getting outside our static, autopilot selves—is “spiritual.”&lt;br /&gt; So. . . where does “religion” come in? A particular religion proposes (and sometimes requires) a particular set of actions and beliefs that a particular tradition has developed over time. For example, Hatha Yoga in Hindu practice leads to “yoking” with the divine. It also can be, even when divorced from its religious roots, very good exercise. Union with the divine is also the aim of many of the sacraments practiced in Christian traditions. In religions, the spiritual impulse is harnessed, if you will, to a set of predetermined practices. The end is, ideally, the same, however: turning off the autopilot.  Transcendence.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; Spirituality is the impulse; religion is the technique. So, when someone says, “I’m spiritual but not religious,” chances are that person likes to paint, dance, play kazoo, hike, or what-have-you, to find the sense of awe and wonder that leads to transcendence. Or perhaps the person mixes two or three or more religious traditions.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6087500516859723396-3495639775177964589?l=deityanddouble.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://deityanddouble.blogspot.com/feeds/3495639775177964589/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6087500516859723396&amp;postID=3495639775177964589' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6087500516859723396/posts/default/3495639775177964589'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6087500516859723396/posts/default/3495639775177964589'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://deityanddouble.blogspot.com/2010/08/spiritual-but-not-religious.html' title='Spiritual but Not Religious'/><author><name>d. breeden</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13190022994900518555</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_HVL3aXrFRuk/Se8u-eMIRWI/AAAAAAAAACs/iwOiEpc4QQM/S220/006.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6087500516859723396.post-1109657717869379649</id><published>2010-06-30T12:50:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2010-06-30T12:51:25.742-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Jack Rushes Down the Beanstalk</title><content type='html'>Though the harp was&lt;br /&gt;As light as the air,&lt;br /&gt;It slowed Jack still,&lt;br /&gt;Climbing with only one hand.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Let me be,&lt;br /&gt;Let me be,”&lt;br /&gt;The harp plucked.&lt;br /&gt;“I will sing only to those&lt;br /&gt;I wish to see!”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Oh, shut up!”&lt;br /&gt;Said Jack,&lt;br /&gt;A bit tetchy&lt;br /&gt;From the exertion.&lt;br /&gt;“You’ll grow to like me&lt;br /&gt;Well enough, you’ll see.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“No! Let me go,&lt;br /&gt;Let me be,”&lt;br /&gt;The harp sang.&lt;br /&gt;“I will sing only to those&lt;br /&gt;Who are pleasing to me!”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jack kept climbing down.&lt;br /&gt;Far below he saw the cottage&lt;br /&gt;Growing ever larger&lt;br /&gt;And the giant wife&lt;br /&gt;Standing there&lt;br /&gt;Beside his dear mother. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They waved their arms, imploring him, no doubt, to hurry along. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“I’m coming, really!”&lt;br /&gt;Jack yelled. &lt;br /&gt;“As fast as I might!”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Just at that Jack felt a mighty slam on the beanstalk.&lt;br /&gt;And then a mighty sway to the beanstalk.&lt;br /&gt;Looking up, Jack saw the giant appearing from the cloud.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Fe, fi, fo, fum!”&lt;br /&gt;The giant screamed.&lt;br /&gt;“I’ll drink the blood&lt;br /&gt;Of this Englishman!”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hearing that, Jack’s heart&lt;br /&gt;Failed him a moment&lt;br /&gt;In his fright and he dropped&lt;br /&gt;The harp from his grip.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And it fell, down and down,&lt;br /&gt;Singing a final song—&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Alas for me,&lt;br /&gt;Woe is I;&lt;br /&gt;I have fallen now&lt;br /&gt;And surely die.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And with that&lt;br /&gt;The harp smashed &lt;br /&gt;To pieces &lt;br /&gt;Against the ground.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Fe, fi, fo, fummmm!”&lt;br /&gt;Jack heard the giant wailing.&lt;br /&gt;“He has killed my dear, dear one!&lt;br /&gt;He has killed my music!&lt;br /&gt;Killed my joy!&lt;br /&gt;I swear to eat him,&lt;br /&gt;This English boy!”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Fall of the Beanstalk&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As he climbed down and down, &lt;br /&gt;Sometimes sliding&lt;br /&gt;In his haste, grasping at leaves,&lt;br /&gt;Jack felt a &lt;br /&gt;SNIK, SNIK, SNIK&lt;br /&gt;Vibrating the stalk. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jack’s mother was chopping down the beanstalk!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“No!” Jack cried.&lt;br /&gt;“No! Don’t cut it!”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jack rushed even faster, more&lt;br /&gt;Intent upon saving the beanstalk&lt;br /&gt;Than on saving his life. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Fe, fi, fo, fum!”&lt;br /&gt;Jack heard the giant&lt;br /&gt;Shouting in his rush,&lt;br /&gt;“I shall eat thee,&lt;br /&gt;Englishman!&lt;br /&gt;You have smashed&lt;br /&gt;What I adored.&lt;br /&gt;You shall be content&lt;br /&gt;Nevermore!”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jack’s feet touched the earth at last,&lt;br /&gt;And at just that moment he heard&lt;br /&gt;A terrible snapping and a terrible cracking.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And the beanstalk fell&lt;br /&gt;From the clouds,&lt;br /&gt;And fell and fell,&lt;br /&gt;Until it crashed into the earth.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The beanstalk tumbled&lt;br /&gt;With such a crash,&lt;br /&gt;But the giant’s fall&lt;br /&gt;Was mightier still.&lt;br /&gt;The giant crashed&lt;br /&gt;With such a crash&lt;br /&gt;That his fall made&lt;br /&gt;A deep, deep gash&lt;br /&gt;--Called Giant’s Fell—&lt;br /&gt;That is there yet today.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Happily, Happily&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And so they lived,&lt;br /&gt;Jack, his mother,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The hen who lays golden eggs, &lt;br /&gt;And the giant widow,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Happily&lt;br /&gt;(At least as happily as they could)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ever after.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Epilogue&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yet Jack,&lt;br /&gt;Despite all his riches,&lt;br /&gt;Often scratched his&lt;br /&gt;Considering Cap&lt;br /&gt;And wondered. . .&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He mourned always &lt;br /&gt;The loss of the music,&lt;br /&gt;As sweet as honey,&lt;br /&gt;As dark as molasses,&lt;br /&gt;As mysterious as &lt;br /&gt;The darkest night. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And Jack kept always&lt;br /&gt;An eye out for a man all in black&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Who might have a magic bean,&lt;br /&gt;A bean so magic&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That it might get him &lt;br /&gt;Once again&lt;br /&gt;Back to the castle in the clouds.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6087500516859723396-1109657717869379649?l=deityanddouble.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://deityanddouble.blogspot.com/feeds/1109657717869379649/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6087500516859723396&amp;postID=1109657717869379649' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6087500516859723396/posts/default/1109657717869379649'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6087500516859723396/posts/default/1109657717869379649'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://deityanddouble.blogspot.com/2010/06/jack-rushes-down-beanstalk.html' title='Jack Rushes Down the Beanstalk'/><author><name>d. breeden</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13190022994900518555</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_HVL3aXrFRuk/Se8u-eMIRWI/AAAAAAAAACs/iwOiEpc4QQM/S220/006.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6087500516859723396.post-1978441082258017137</id><published>2010-06-11T15:38:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2010-06-11T15:38:12.280-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Jack’s Mother is Very Pleased Again</title><content type='html'>“Delightful!” Jack’s mother said,&lt;br /&gt;Patting the hen’s head &lt;br /&gt;As she held a golden egg.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“We shall have to build &lt;br /&gt;A snug coop for her,&lt;br /&gt;But we can afford that now,&lt;br /&gt;Thanks to you, my smart, &lt;br /&gt;My beautiful, my darling son!”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jack scratched &lt;br /&gt;His Considering Cap,&lt;br /&gt;Thinking of the wonders&lt;br /&gt;Of owning a harp&lt;br /&gt;That plays beautiful music&lt;br /&gt;And all by itself. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As sweet as honey,&lt;br /&gt;As dark as molasses,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As mysterious as &lt;br /&gt;The darkest night. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;A Third Trip Up the Beanstalk&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jack awoke just after midnight,&lt;br /&gt;Though he had slept warm&lt;br /&gt;In the new feather bed &lt;br /&gt;His mother had bought for him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jack got up, put on his Considering Cap,&lt;br /&gt;And considered what to do. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The giant, though not so very bright,&lt;br /&gt;Might by now have figured &lt;br /&gt;Just how it was Jack got to his castle&lt;br /&gt;And why he was coming there.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The giant, though not so very bright,&lt;br /&gt;Might be waiting for him. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And as for his wife?&lt;br /&gt;Dear woman, she had not seemed at all pleased&lt;br /&gt;To see him when last they met. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And what was it about this &lt;br /&gt;“Blood of an Englishman”?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jack scratched his cap and considered. &lt;br /&gt;It would appear, considered Jack,&lt;br /&gt;That the giant knew the difference&lt;br /&gt;Between one blood and another. . .&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A connoisseur of blood?&lt;br /&gt;Not the sort of person to visit!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And what of the child&lt;br /&gt;Jack had heard screaming?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jack didn’t even have to consider&lt;br /&gt;In order to know he did not want. . .&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Eaten!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jack went out into the garden&lt;br /&gt;And looked at the tall beanstalk&lt;br /&gt;That stretched to the clouds.&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;And beyond. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Should he, one more time, &lt;br /&gt;Climb it? For that beautiful, &lt;br /&gt;Rare, Self-playing harp?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Such a beautiful sound!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As sweet as honey,&lt;br /&gt;As dark as molasses,&lt;br /&gt;As mysterious as &lt;br /&gt;The darkest night. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And the face of a goddess&lt;br /&gt;Carved into its wood&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And all covered with gold!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jack considered, scratching &lt;br /&gt;At his cap. Jack listened to&lt;br /&gt;The beanstalk’s leaves&lt;br /&gt;Rustling gently in the breeze.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jack looked at the new coop&lt;br /&gt;His mother had ordered built&lt;br /&gt;Right away for the hen who&lt;br /&gt;Laid the golden eggs. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They were well off now,&lt;br /&gt;Right enough. Enough&lt;br /&gt;Is what they had now, &lt;br /&gt;With heaps of gold and a hen&lt;br /&gt;Who could lay more. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Go up again?&lt;br /&gt;Enough is enough,&lt;br /&gt;Jack considered. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then he considered &lt;br /&gt;The beautiful harp&lt;br /&gt;And her music,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As sweet as honey,&lt;br /&gt;As dark as molasses,&lt;br /&gt;As mysterious as &lt;br /&gt;The darkest night. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then Jack filled his water gourd&lt;br /&gt;And up he climbed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;A Lovely Climb&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And so Jack climbed,&lt;br /&gt;And he climbed,&lt;br /&gt;And climbed;&lt;br /&gt;And climbed some more.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then he had a bit of water&lt;br /&gt;And climbed some more.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And he climbed,&lt;br /&gt;And climbed;&lt;br /&gt;And climbed some more.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And all the while &lt;br /&gt;The little cottage got smaller,&lt;br /&gt;And the clouds loomed larger,&lt;br /&gt;And the stars twinkled&lt;br /&gt;And twinkled,&lt;br /&gt;And the dark faded&lt;br /&gt;Until a faint light&lt;br /&gt;Filled the east.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And then. . .&lt;br /&gt;And then. . .&lt;br /&gt;Jack touched the cloud!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And without a moment’s &lt;br /&gt;Considering, off the &lt;br /&gt;Beanstalk he jumped,&lt;br /&gt;Off onto the cloud.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jack knew the path well.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But would, Jack scratched&lt;br /&gt;His cap and considered,&lt;br /&gt;The giant wife let him in?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But how else, Jack considered,&lt;br /&gt;Might he ever open the door?&lt;br /&gt;And, being a castle, there&lt;br /&gt;Was not another way in!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thus it was that Jack lifted&lt;br /&gt;The heavy knocker &lt;br /&gt;As best he could &lt;br /&gt;One last time, &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Rat-a-tat-tat.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;The Giant Wife is not Pleased&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“You again,” said the giant wife.&lt;br /&gt;“How ever could you come here again?&lt;br /&gt;My husband is in the banquet hall,&lt;br /&gt;Just waiting for you to come. And&lt;br /&gt;Though he is asleep just now, &lt;br /&gt;He will surely awaken soon and eat you!”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jack gave his cap a scratch,&lt;br /&gt;Considering what the wife had said.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then he gave her a look,&lt;br /&gt;And though she stood as tall&lt;br /&gt;As the tallest houses in the village,&lt;br /&gt;Perhaps even as tall as the chimneys,&lt;br /&gt;Jack could see black and blue on her face.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Your husband beat you, because of me?”&lt;br /&gt;Jack asked, quite aghast at what he saw.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Really, you mustn’t have come back!”&lt;br /&gt;The giant wife said, with fear in her voice.&lt;br /&gt;“My husband is angry, so angry about his gold.&lt;br /&gt;And about his hen who lays golden eggs&lt;br /&gt;Don’t you understand? He eats children like you!&lt;br /&gt;For breakfast, lunch, and supper!&lt;br /&gt;And now I fear he will eat you too!”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“But you,” Jack said, giving his cap&lt;br /&gt;A scratch. “Not you. You eat &lt;br /&gt;Hasty pudding, don’t you?”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“It is a favorite of mine,” &lt;br /&gt;Said the giant wife. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“And not children?”&lt;br /&gt;Jack asked, considering.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Oh, no! Never children!&lt;br /&gt;The giant wife said. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Well, then,” said Jack. &lt;br /&gt;“You have been so,&lt;br /&gt;So kind to me. Do this:&lt;br /&gt;Go along this cloud&lt;br /&gt;Over there to the west.&lt;br /&gt;And you will find a beanstalk.&lt;br /&gt;Climb down it&lt;br /&gt;And you will find a cottage.&lt;br /&gt;There is my mother. &lt;br /&gt;Go, tell her what has happened&lt;br /&gt;And she will help you. &lt;br /&gt;We can always use&lt;br /&gt;More hands on the farm.&lt;br /&gt;Leave this terrible giant!”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The giant wife&lt;br /&gt;Considered a moment.&lt;br /&gt;Considered all the pain&lt;br /&gt;She had struggled through,&lt;br /&gt;The taunts and smacks.&lt;br /&gt;The terrible beatings.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The giant wife&lt;br /&gt;Considered. . .and then said,&lt;br /&gt;“Very well, then. I will!”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And off she ran toward the beanstalk,&lt;br /&gt;So happy for a chance of freedom&lt;br /&gt;That never did she think twice about Jack&lt;br /&gt;Or what might happen next. . .&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;Jack and the Magic Harp&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As the giant wife had said, &lt;br /&gt;The giant slept in his chair&lt;br /&gt;There in the banquet hall&lt;br /&gt;Beside a roaring fire. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If Jack was not mistaken,&lt;br /&gt;Dribbles and drabs &lt;br /&gt;Of some unfortunate child&lt;br /&gt;Ran from the corners&lt;br /&gt;Of the sleeping giant’s mouth.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jack looked around the hall.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There, in the corner,&lt;br /&gt;Playing a sweet lullaby,&lt;br /&gt;Sat the golden harp&lt;br /&gt;With the face of a goddess.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Could he, Jack suddenly thought,&lt;br /&gt;Even lift the magic harp?&lt;br /&gt;Oh! He hadn’t considered that!&lt;br /&gt;Jack scratched his cap&lt;br /&gt;And considered. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The harp began to pluck:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Yes, he’s here,&lt;br /&gt;Yes he’s here.&lt;br /&gt;A sweet morsel&lt;br /&gt;To bring you cheer.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The giant stirred,&lt;br /&gt;And he snorted,&lt;br /&gt;But he did not wake.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jack scratched his cap a moment,&lt;br /&gt;Considering. Then, up he went&lt;br /&gt;On his tippy-tippy toes&lt;br /&gt;And headed for the harp. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Oh, he’s here,&lt;br /&gt;Yes he’s here.”&lt;br /&gt;The harp plucked out.&lt;br /&gt;“A thieving human&lt;br /&gt;To steal your cheer.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jack lifted his finger&lt;br /&gt;To his lips and shushed&lt;br /&gt;The harp. “Wouldn’t you,”&lt;br /&gt;Jack asked the harp,&lt;br /&gt;“Prefer a life with the hen&lt;br /&gt;Down on earth&lt;br /&gt;Away from all this suffering?”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“I’m happy here,&lt;br /&gt;I’m happy here.”&lt;br /&gt;The harp plucked out.&lt;br /&gt;“Don’t take me away&lt;br /&gt;To earth and its fear.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Shush!” Jack said,&lt;br /&gt;Grabbing the harp.&lt;br /&gt;“You’ll like it just fine!&lt;br /&gt;I promise truly.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The harp felt as light as the air,&lt;br /&gt;Jack learned, to his astonishment.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The harp plucked louder&lt;br /&gt;As Jack tippy-toed toward &lt;br /&gt;The door:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Wake, oh, master,&lt;br /&gt;Wake now, I say!&lt;br /&gt;Or this human monster&lt;br /&gt;Will steal me away!”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jack tippy-toead toward the door.&lt;br /&gt;But just then giant started and snorted,&lt;br /&gt;And said in his sleep,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Fe, fi, fo, hummmmmm. . .”&lt;br /&gt;And back he went to his slumbers.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nearly at the door,&lt;br /&gt;The harp sang desperately,&lt;br /&gt;As loudly as she could pluck,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Wake, wake, oh, master,&lt;br /&gt;Wake you up now!&lt;br /&gt;A human monster&lt;br /&gt;Is stealing your joy!”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At that, Jack had reached the door and off he ran toward the beanstalk.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;The Giant’s Dream Is Not a Dream&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The giant suddenly awoke&lt;br /&gt;And looked around, blinking.&lt;br /&gt;“Fe, fi, fo, fum,&lt;br /&gt;I have dreamed&lt;br /&gt;Of an Englishman.&lt;br /&gt;And my dear harp sang,&lt;br /&gt;And my dear harp moaned&lt;br /&gt;That a thieving boy&lt;br /&gt;Was taking her home!”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then the giant paused.&lt;br /&gt;And he sniffed. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And sniffed some more.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Fe, fi, fo, fum!”&lt;br /&gt;He shouted. &lt;br /&gt;“I smell the blood&lt;br /&gt;Of an Englishman!”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then the giant looked &lt;br /&gt;At the spot where &lt;br /&gt;His believed harp had stood.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh, his blood ran cold!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“He’s now alive&lt;br /&gt;But soon will be dead,”&lt;br /&gt;The giant shouted angrily,&lt;br /&gt;“I’ll grind his bones&lt;br /&gt;To make my bread!”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And with this the giant leapt up, grabbing his club that was as big as a tree.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6087500516859723396-1978441082258017137?l=deityanddouble.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://deityanddouble.blogspot.com/feeds/1978441082258017137/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6087500516859723396&amp;postID=1978441082258017137' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6087500516859723396/posts/default/1978441082258017137'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6087500516859723396/posts/default/1978441082258017137'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://deityanddouble.blogspot.com/2010/06/jacks-mother-is-very-pleased-again_11.html' title='Jack’s Mother is Very Pleased Again'/><author><name>d. breeden</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13190022994900518555</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_HVL3aXrFRuk/Se8u-eMIRWI/AAAAAAAAACs/iwOiEpc4QQM/S220/006.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6087500516859723396.post-1753935634629184807</id><published>2010-06-03T08:20:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2010-06-03T08:20:20.574-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Jack’s Mother is Very Pleased Again</title><content type='html'>“Delightful!” Jack’s mother said,&lt;br /&gt;Patting the hen’s head &lt;br /&gt;As she held a golden egg.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“We shall have to build &lt;br /&gt;A snug coop for her,&lt;br /&gt;But we can afford that now,&lt;br /&gt;Thanks to you, my smart, &lt;br /&gt;My beautiful, my darling son!”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jack scratched &lt;br /&gt;His Considering Cap,&lt;br /&gt;Thinking of the wonders&lt;br /&gt;Of owning a harp&lt;br /&gt;That plays beautiful music&lt;br /&gt;And all by itself. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As sweet as honey,&lt;br /&gt;As dark as molasses,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As mysterious as &lt;br /&gt;The darkest night. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;A Third Trip Up the Beanstalk&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jack awoke just after midnight,&lt;br /&gt;Though he had slept warm&lt;br /&gt;In the new feather bed &lt;br /&gt;His mother had bought for him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jack got up, put on his Considering Cap,&lt;br /&gt;And considered what to do. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The giant, though not so very bright,&lt;br /&gt;Might by now have figured &lt;br /&gt;Just how it was Jack got to his castle&lt;br /&gt;And why he was coming there.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The giant, though not so very bright,&lt;br /&gt;Might be waiting for him. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And as for his wife?&lt;br /&gt;Dear woman, she had not seemed at all pleased&lt;br /&gt;To see him when last they met. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And what was it about this &lt;br /&gt;“Blood of an Englishman”?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jack scratched his cap and considered. &lt;br /&gt;It would appear, considered Jack,&lt;br /&gt;That the giant knew the difference&lt;br /&gt;Between one blood and another. . .&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A connoisseur of blood?&lt;br /&gt;Not the sort of person to visit!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And what of the child&lt;br /&gt;Jack had heard screaming?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jack didn’t even have to consider&lt;br /&gt;In order to know he did not want. . .&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Eaten!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jack went out into the garden&lt;br /&gt;And looked at the tall beanstalk&lt;br /&gt;That stretched to the clouds.&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;And beyond. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Should he, one more time, &lt;br /&gt;Climb it? For that beautiful, &lt;br /&gt;Rare, Self-playing harp?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Such a beautiful sound!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As sweet as honey,&lt;br /&gt;As dark as molasses,&lt;br /&gt;As mysterious as &lt;br /&gt;The darkest night. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And the face of a goddess&lt;br /&gt;Carved into its wood&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And all covered with gold!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jack considered, scratching &lt;br /&gt;At his cap. Jack listened to&lt;br /&gt;The beanstalk’s leaves&lt;br /&gt;Rustling gently in the breeze.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jack looked at the new coop&lt;br /&gt;His mother had ordered built&lt;br /&gt;Right away for the hen who&lt;br /&gt;Laid the golden eggs. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They were well off now,&lt;br /&gt;Right enough. Enough&lt;br /&gt;Is what they had now, &lt;br /&gt;With heaps of gold and a hen&lt;br /&gt;Who could lay more. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Go up again?&lt;br /&gt;Enough is enough,&lt;br /&gt;Jack considered. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then he considered &lt;br /&gt;The beautiful harp&lt;br /&gt;And her music,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As sweet as honey,&lt;br /&gt;As dark as molasses,&lt;br /&gt;As mysterious as &lt;br /&gt;The darkest night. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then Jack filled his water gourd&lt;br /&gt;And up he climbed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;A Lovely Climb&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And so Jack climbed,&lt;br /&gt;And he climbed,&lt;br /&gt;And climbed;&lt;br /&gt;And climbed some more.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then he had a bit of water&lt;br /&gt;And climbed some more.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And he climbed,&lt;br /&gt;And climbed;&lt;br /&gt;And climbed some more.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And all the while &lt;br /&gt;The little cottage got smaller,&lt;br /&gt;And the clouds loomed larger,&lt;br /&gt;And the stars twinkled&lt;br /&gt;And twinkled,&lt;br /&gt;And the dark faded&lt;br /&gt;Until a faint light&lt;br /&gt;Filled the east.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And then. . .&lt;br /&gt;And then. . .&lt;br /&gt;Jack touched the cloud!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And without a moment’s &lt;br /&gt;Considering, off the &lt;br /&gt;Beanstalk he jumped,&lt;br /&gt;Off onto the cloud.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jack knew the path well.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But would, Jack scratched&lt;br /&gt;His cap and considered,&lt;br /&gt;The giant wife let him in?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But how else, Jack considered,&lt;br /&gt;Might he ever open the door?&lt;br /&gt;And, being a castle, there&lt;br /&gt;Was not another way in!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thus it was that Jack lifted&lt;br /&gt;The heavy knocker &lt;br /&gt;As best he could &lt;br /&gt;One last time, &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Rat-a-tat-tat.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;The Giant Wife is not Pleased&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“You again,” said the giant wife.&lt;br /&gt;“How ever could you come here again?&lt;br /&gt;My husband is in the banquet hall,&lt;br /&gt;Just waiting for you to come. And&lt;br /&gt;Though he is asleep just now, &lt;br /&gt;He will surely awaken soon and eat you!”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jack gave his cap a scratch,&lt;br /&gt;Considering what the wife had said.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then he gave her a look,&lt;br /&gt;And though she stood as tall&lt;br /&gt;As the tallest houses in the village,&lt;br /&gt;Perhaps even as tall as the chimneys,&lt;br /&gt;Jack could see black and blue on her face.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Your husband beat you, because of me?”&lt;br /&gt;Jack asked, quite aghast at what he saw.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Really, you mustn’t have come back!”&lt;br /&gt;The giant wife said, with fear in her voice.&lt;br /&gt;“My husband is angry, so angry about his gold.&lt;br /&gt;And about his hen who lays golden eggs&lt;br /&gt;Don’t you understand? He eats children like you!&lt;br /&gt;For breakfast, lunch, and supper!&lt;br /&gt;And now I fear he will eat you too!”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“But you,” Jack said, giving his cap&lt;br /&gt;A scratch. “Not you. You eat &lt;br /&gt;Hasty pudding, don’t you?”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“It is a favorite of mine,” &lt;br /&gt;Said the giant wife. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“And not children?”&lt;br /&gt;Jack asked, considering.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Oh, no! Never children!&lt;br /&gt;The giant wife said. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Well, then,” said Jack. &lt;br /&gt;“You have been so,&lt;br /&gt;So kind to me. Do this:&lt;br /&gt;Go along this cloud&lt;br /&gt;Over there to the west.&lt;br /&gt;And you will find a beanstalk.&lt;br /&gt;Climb down it&lt;br /&gt;And you will find a cottage.&lt;br /&gt;There is my mother. &lt;br /&gt;Go, tell her what has happened&lt;br /&gt;And she will help you. &lt;br /&gt;We can always use&lt;br /&gt;More hands on the farm.&lt;br /&gt;Leave this terrible giant!”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The giant wife&lt;br /&gt;Considered a moment.&lt;br /&gt;Considered all the pain&lt;br /&gt;She had struggled through,&lt;br /&gt;The taunts and smacks.&lt;br /&gt;The terrible beatings.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The giant wife&lt;br /&gt;Considered. . .and then said,&lt;br /&gt;“Very well, then. I will!”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And off she ran toward the beanstalk,&lt;br /&gt;So happy for a chance of freedom&lt;br /&gt;That never did she think twice about Jack&lt;br /&gt;Or what might happen next. . .&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6087500516859723396-1753935634629184807?l=deityanddouble.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://deityanddouble.blogspot.com/feeds/1753935634629184807/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6087500516859723396&amp;postID=1753935634629184807' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6087500516859723396/posts/default/1753935634629184807'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6087500516859723396/posts/default/1753935634629184807'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://deityanddouble.blogspot.com/2010/06/jacks-mother-is-very-pleased-again.html' title='Jack’s Mother is Very Pleased Again'/><author><name>d. breeden</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13190022994900518555</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_HVL3aXrFRuk/Se8u-eMIRWI/AAAAAAAAACs/iwOiEpc4QQM/S220/006.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6087500516859723396.post-9092276054219416725</id><published>2010-05-26T13:53:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2010-05-26T13:53:32.496-05:00</updated><title type='text'>A Narrow Escape</title><content type='html'>As the giant snored, Jack heard the kettle lid lifted. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Go now! Run for your life,” the giant wife whispered desperately. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And so Jack snuck toward the door. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But then he gave his Considering Cap a scratch. &lt;br /&gt;And he looked about the room.&lt;br /&gt;He spied on the table beside the giant husband&lt;br /&gt;A bag spilling out coins of gold.&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;Stolen, it was, Jack considered. &lt;br /&gt;From the poor people below. &lt;br /&gt;Why shouldn’t Jack just steal it right back?&lt;br /&gt;What was wrong with a good turn for himself&lt;br /&gt;And his poor mother, starving at home? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“C’mon! C’mon!” &lt;br /&gt;The giant wife whispered&lt;br /&gt;As the giant husband snored &lt;br /&gt;And the harp plucked out &lt;br /&gt;As loud as she might,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Yes, he’s here,&lt;br /&gt;Yes he’s here.&lt;br /&gt;Stealing a thing&lt;br /&gt;That you hold dear.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But the warmth and the meal conspired to keep the giant asleep. And thus Jack snuck past the sleeping giant, took the bag of gold, ran across the clouds, and found himself home by supper.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;Nothing Hasty About It&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hasty pudding&lt;br /&gt;Is just the reverse;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Must be cooked&lt;br /&gt;Oh, so slowly;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The wheat flour mixed,&lt;br /&gt;Oh, so slowly, &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Into boiling water, then&lt;br /&gt;Cooked, oh, so slowly.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Not hasty this pudding&lt;br /&gt;At all.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;Jack’s Mother Is Very Pleased&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Where have you been?”&lt;br /&gt;Jack’s mother asked.&lt;br /&gt;“I feared that perhaps&lt;br /&gt;The giant had gotten you.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Oh, no,” said Jack&lt;br /&gt;“Quite the opposite!&lt;br /&gt;It was I who got the giant!”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So saying, Jack put the bag of gold down on the tiny table with a “thunk.” &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jack’s mother upended the bag&lt;br /&gt;And gold spilled all across the tiny table. &lt;br /&gt;“Our troubles are no more!” Jack’s mother said. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But that was not to be the case.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;A Second Trip Up the Beanstalk&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As his mother snored quietly,&lt;br /&gt;Jack gave his Considering Cap a scratch&lt;br /&gt;And considered climbing the beanstalk again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jack could hear,&lt;br /&gt;However faintly, &lt;br /&gt;A beautiful music,&lt;br /&gt;As sweet as honey,&lt;br /&gt;As dark as molasses,&lt;br /&gt;As mysterious as &lt;br /&gt;The darkest night. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yet now;&lt;br /&gt;Now Jack knew&lt;br /&gt;From whence it came. . .&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Why shouldn’t he climb again? &lt;br /&gt;Jack considered.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The giant was not so very bright,&lt;br /&gt;And his wife was so very kind.&lt;br /&gt;And then there was the hen,&lt;br /&gt;The hen who laid golden eggs.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Wouldn’t such a hen be&lt;br /&gt;Just the thing for Jack and his mother?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Why should a thieving, murdering giant&lt;br /&gt;Have such a thing to himself?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And so,&lt;br /&gt;Without more considering,&lt;br /&gt;Jack filled the gourd with water&lt;br /&gt;And began the long and arduous climb.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Up, up, and up the beanstalk,&lt;br /&gt;Up into the clouds once again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;The Hen Who Lays Golden Eggs&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Why ever have you come back?” &lt;br /&gt;The giant wife exclaimed at the door.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Really, you mustn’t have come back!&lt;br /&gt;My husband is angry, so very angry about his gold.&lt;br /&gt;Don’t you understand? He eats children like you!&lt;br /&gt;For breakfast, lunch, and supper!&lt;br /&gt;And now I fear he will eat you too!”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“You have been so,&lt;br /&gt;So kind to me,” Jack &lt;br /&gt;Said to the giant wife.&lt;br /&gt;I ask only one thing more—&lt;br /&gt;That you stand aside&lt;br /&gt;As I take that chicken home!&lt;br /&gt;Then, I will trouble you no more.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“I fear for you life!”&lt;br /&gt;The giant wife said.&lt;br /&gt;“My husband will be back&lt;br /&gt;At sunrise.  Back with a child&lt;br /&gt;That I will fry for breakfast!”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jack considered for a moment,&lt;br /&gt;Giving his cap a scratch,&lt;br /&gt;But only for a moment,&lt;br /&gt;Then he rushed toward the hall&lt;br /&gt;To take the hen who lays golden eggs.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As he entered the room&lt;br /&gt;The harp began to pluck out,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Yes, he’s here,&lt;br /&gt;Yes he’s here.&lt;br /&gt;A thieving child&lt;br /&gt;To take what’s dear.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jack did not listen to the harp’s song, however.&lt;br /&gt;Rather, he dashed across the room and scooped up&lt;br /&gt;The hen that lays the golden eggs.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At that moment Jack heard the stomp, stomp, stomp of giant steps and the chocked cry of a child in distress. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“You must, must run ever so fast and save yourself!” the giant wife cried.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The harp plucked out,&lt;br /&gt;“Yes, he’s here,&lt;br /&gt;Yes he’s here.&lt;br /&gt;A sweet morsel&lt;br /&gt;To bring you cheer.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Outside, Jack heard a “thunk” and another “thunk,” and so the child’s cries stopped.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jack considered not a moment&lt;br /&gt;And jumped directly out the window&lt;br /&gt;And ran and ran &lt;br /&gt;The chicken clucking all the while&lt;br /&gt;All the way across the clouds&lt;br /&gt;And rushing, rushing down the beanstalk he went,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And so home again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;The Giant is Not Pleased &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Walking into his banqueting hall,&lt;br /&gt;The giant threw the dead child upon the floor&lt;br /&gt;And began sniffing at the air. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He sniffed. &lt;br /&gt;And walked about.&lt;br /&gt;And sniffed again. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And then again. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Fe, fi, fo, fum!”&lt;br /&gt;The giant intoned.&lt;br /&gt;“I smell the blood&lt;br /&gt;Of an Englishman!”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“It’s only your imagination!” the giant wife said, but half-heartedly this time. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The giant sniffed the air &lt;br /&gt;And clattered about the room, &lt;br /&gt;Overturning boxes, opening doors. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Be he alive&lt;br /&gt;Or be he dead,”&lt;br /&gt;The giant chanted as he searched;&lt;br /&gt;“I’ll grind his bones&lt;br /&gt;To make my bread!”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The harp plucked out,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“He was here;&lt;br /&gt;He was here.&lt;br /&gt;A dastardly boy&lt;br /&gt;Who robbed your cheer.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The giant grew angrier&lt;br /&gt;And threw things around, saying,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Fe, fi, fo, fum!&lt;br /&gt;“I smell the blood&lt;br /&gt;Of an Englishman!”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The harp sang,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“He was here;&lt;br /&gt;He was here,&lt;br /&gt;“But now he’s run&lt;br /&gt;Away with what’s dear.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Screaming madly, the giant &lt;br /&gt;Shoved his sobbing wife&lt;br /&gt;Nearly into the fire.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Be he alive&lt;br /&gt;Or be he dead,”&lt;br /&gt;I’ll grind his bones&lt;br /&gt;To make my bread!”&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6087500516859723396-9092276054219416725?l=deityanddouble.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://deityanddouble.blogspot.com/feeds/9092276054219416725/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6087500516859723396&amp;postID=9092276054219416725' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6087500516859723396/posts/default/9092276054219416725'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6087500516859723396/posts/default/9092276054219416725'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://deityanddouble.blogspot.com/2010/05/narrow-escape.html' title='A Narrow Escape'/><author><name>d. breeden</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13190022994900518555</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_HVL3aXrFRuk/Se8u-eMIRWI/AAAAAAAAACs/iwOiEpc4QQM/S220/006.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6087500516859723396.post-7934629945019768550</id><published>2010-05-19T08:38:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2010-05-19T08:38:55.781-05:00</updated><title type='text'>A Welcome Welcome</title><content type='html'>As Jack walked&lt;br /&gt;He wondered what to say&lt;br /&gt;To such rich people&lt;br /&gt;As would live in&lt;br /&gt;A castle on a cloud.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Never had Jack seen&lt;br /&gt;Rich people before.&lt;br /&gt;He would have to &lt;br /&gt;Consider that, yet&lt;br /&gt;Jack felt very hungry&lt;br /&gt;And thought maybe,&lt;br /&gt;Just maybe, people&lt;br /&gt;So rich as to live on clouds&lt;br /&gt;Might feed a poor boy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And so it was &lt;br /&gt;That Jack came&lt;br /&gt;To the looming door,&lt;br /&gt;And, after scratching&lt;br /&gt;His Considering Cap,&lt;br /&gt;He reached high&lt;br /&gt;On his tippy toes&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And barely budged the knocker&lt;br /&gt;That was heavy and iron&lt;br /&gt;And as big around&lt;br /&gt;As a barrel.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Rat-tat-tat&lt;br /&gt;Went the knocker,&lt;br /&gt;Ever so faintly,&lt;br /&gt;And&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Rat-tat-tat &lt;br /&gt;Again,&lt;br /&gt;Requiring all Jack’s strength.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jack considered&lt;br /&gt;Running away—considered&lt;br /&gt;Climbing right back &lt;br /&gt;Down the beanstalk.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But he considered again—&lt;br /&gt;How hungry he was.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And so he stayed waiting&lt;br /&gt;At the bottom of the big door.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Which, after a huge clang&lt;br /&gt;And much creaking, &lt;br /&gt;Opened,&lt;br /&gt;Leaving Jack nearly&lt;br /&gt;Scarred from his wits.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For there before him stood&lt;br /&gt;A giant as tall as the buildings&lt;br /&gt;In the village, at least &lt;br /&gt;Two stories, if not more,&lt;br /&gt;If not as tall as the chimneys&lt;br /&gt;In the village,&lt;br /&gt;Which were very tall.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A very tall giant.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Was this the giant everyone told of&lt;br /&gt;Who ate children in their sleep?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Hello, little boy,” said the giant,&lt;br /&gt;Bending toward him. &lt;br /&gt;Yes, this was a giant,&lt;br /&gt;No doubt of that,&lt;br /&gt;But this giant had a kindly face;&lt;br /&gt;A grandmother sort of face,&lt;br /&gt;And the face smiled.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Hello,” said Jack. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“It’s very nice of you to come,”&lt;br /&gt;Said the kindly voice. “But you &lt;br /&gt;Really must leave. My husband&lt;br /&gt;Eats little children like you, you know.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“I didn’t know!” said Jack.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Well he does. He’s off hunting even now.&lt;br /&gt;You mustn’t be here when he returns!”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jack gave a scratch to his Considering Cap.&lt;br /&gt;“But I’m ever so hungry,” Jack said.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Ah,” said the kindly voice.&lt;br /&gt;“Yes, you do look wan.” &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And so the kindly giant led Jack through the castle grounds and into a vast banqueting hall with roaring fire. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A Question of Complicity&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Why was it then&lt;br /&gt;That she stayed there,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Complicity agreeing,&lt;br /&gt;Participating—&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In her small way,&lt;br /&gt;But none the less—&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The thefts, the murders. . .&lt;br /&gt;Her complicity? &lt;br /&gt;All Things Delightful&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Inside the banqueting hall Jack felt quite small. &lt;br /&gt;Teacups were the size of laundry kettles.  &lt;br /&gt;Chairs were as tall as hedges. &lt;br /&gt;And the fireplace was the size of his cottage. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yet the warmth of the room comforted him, and a beautiful music filled the room. The music he had heard in his sleep! He looked about the room and saw there in a corner a golden harp that played of its own accord and had carved on it the face of a beautiful goddess. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The music was as &lt;br /&gt;Sweet as honey,&lt;br /&gt;As dark as molasses,&lt;br /&gt;As mysterious as &lt;br /&gt;The darkest night. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And the smell in the room.  It was hasty pudding!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“You will be wanting hasty pudding,” said the kindly giant. &lt;br /&gt;With that, she ladled a bowlful as large as the tub Jack used for washing. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ah, thought Jack, if only I could take some of this pudding to Mother!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The giant smiled. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“What a lovely hen!” Jack commented as he ate. And she was.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Yes, said the giant. And she is a magic hen. She lays eggs of gold!”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Golden eggs! thought Jack. How marvelous was this place. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jack ate and ate. And then ate some more, to his heart’s content, using his hands, since the giant could find no spoon small enough for Jack. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jack was a very content boy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That is, until the giant started, looking frightened. &lt;br /&gt;“I hear my husband!” the giant wife said. “You must hide!”  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And indeed when he listened to something besides the music, Jack heard it too—the stomp, stomp, stomp of tremendous feet. &lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;An Unwelcome Welcome&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jack looked about, scratching his Considering Cap. &lt;br /&gt;Where might he hide? There!  &lt;br /&gt;In a copper kettle with a lid. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He jumped up to the shelf where the kettle sat, &lt;br /&gt;Slid the lid a bit, &lt;br /&gt;And hopped inside, &lt;br /&gt;Pulling the lid closed after him. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Just then the husband giant said, &lt;br /&gt;In a voice like a winter wind&lt;br /&gt;On high mountain peaks,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Fe, fi, fo, fum!&lt;br /&gt;Tonight I found only&lt;br /&gt;Des-o-lation!&lt;br /&gt;I’ve caught no children. &lt;br /&gt;All ran too fast!&lt;br /&gt;Whatever will I have&lt;br /&gt;For my breakfast?”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;With that the giant &lt;br /&gt;Threw his club on the floor.&lt;br /&gt;It crashed like a falling tree.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then Jack could hear the giant sniffing at the air. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Fe, fi, fo, fum!”&lt;br /&gt;The giant roared. &lt;br /&gt;“I smell hasty puddin’!&lt;br /&gt;“That’s not my style;&lt;br /&gt;That’s not my meat!&lt;br /&gt;Bring me a salted child&lt;br /&gt;To eat!”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Yes, yes, of course, dear!” the giant wife said. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And with that commenced much clattering.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jack stayed quiet, completely still in the kettle, afraid for his life.&lt;br /&gt;Had it not been for his Considering Cap and his considering,&lt;br /&gt;Perhaps Jack would have run. But instead, he stayed quiet. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After much crunching, smacking, and munching,&lt;br /&gt; Jack heard the giant husband say, &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Fe, fi, fo, fum,&lt;br /&gt;Salted child! Yum, yum!&lt;br /&gt;Come what may,&lt;br /&gt;Come what might,&lt;br /&gt;I’ll have a fresh child&lt;br /&gt;For my supper tonight!”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But as he rose from his chair, &lt;br /&gt;The giant sniffed the air again. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And sniffed again. And then again. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Fe, fi, fo, fum!”&lt;br /&gt;The giant intoned.&lt;br /&gt;“I smell the blood&lt;br /&gt;Of an Englishman!”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So saying, and giving his wife a distrustful look, the giant began to clatter about the room, overturning boxes and opening doors. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“There is no such here!” said the wife. &lt;br /&gt;“Must be your imagination!”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Be he alive&lt;br /&gt;Or be he dead,”&lt;br /&gt;The giant chanted as he searched;&lt;br /&gt;“I’ll grind his bones&lt;br /&gt;To make my bread!”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Really!” said the wife. “Such an imagination!”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The harp, however, tried to tell a different story. &lt;br /&gt;Slowly, plucked in rhythm, the harp said,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Yes, he’s here,&lt;br /&gt;Yes he’s here.&lt;br /&gt;A sweet morsel&lt;br /&gt;To bring you cheer.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Yes!” cried the husband.&lt;br /&gt;“Dessert indeed!&lt;br /&gt;English, English blood&lt;br /&gt;Warm and salty!”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The giant searched; &lt;br /&gt;His wife complained; &lt;br /&gt;The harp sang on; &lt;br /&gt;And Jack sweated for his life. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After what seemed like forever, though,&lt;br /&gt;The warmth of the afternoon&lt;br /&gt;And his heavy salted meal&lt;br /&gt;Made the giant drowsy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And so he curled up &lt;br /&gt;Next the fire and fell asleep.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6087500516859723396-7934629945019768550?l=deityanddouble.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://deityanddouble.blogspot.com/feeds/7934629945019768550/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6087500516859723396&amp;postID=7934629945019768550' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6087500516859723396/posts/default/7934629945019768550'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6087500516859723396/posts/default/7934629945019768550'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://deityanddouble.blogspot.com/2010/05/welcome-welcome_19.html' title='A Welcome Welcome'/><author><name>d. breeden</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13190022994900518555</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_HVL3aXrFRuk/Se8u-eMIRWI/AAAAAAAAACs/iwOiEpc4QQM/S220/006.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6087500516859723396.post-7106144456586311593</id><published>2010-05-12T07:55:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2010-05-12T07:55:34.167-05:00</updated><title type='text'>An Unwelcome Welcome</title><content type='html'>Jack looked about, scratching his Considering Cap. &lt;br /&gt;Where might he hide? There!  &lt;br /&gt;In a copper kettle with a lid. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He jumped up to the shelf where the kettle sat, &lt;br /&gt;Slid the lid a bit, &lt;br /&gt;And hopped inside, &lt;br /&gt;Pulling the lid closed after him. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Just then the husband giant said, &lt;br /&gt;In a voice like a winter wind&lt;br /&gt;On high mountain peaks,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Fe, fi, fo, fum!&lt;br /&gt;Tonight I found only&lt;br /&gt;Des-o-lation!&lt;br /&gt;I’ve caught no children. &lt;br /&gt;All ran too fast!&lt;br /&gt;Whatever will I have&lt;br /&gt;For my breakfast?”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;With that the giant &lt;br /&gt;Threw his club on the floor.&lt;br /&gt;It crashed like a falling tree.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then Jack could hear the giant sniffing at the air. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Fe, fi, fo, fum!”&lt;br /&gt;The giant roared. &lt;br /&gt;“I smell hasty puddin’!&lt;br /&gt;“That’s not my style;&lt;br /&gt;That’s not my meat!&lt;br /&gt;Bring me a salted child&lt;br /&gt;To eat!”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Yes, yes, of course, dear!” the giant wife said. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And with that commenced much clattering.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jack stayed quiet, completely still in the kettle, afraid for his life.&lt;br /&gt;Had it not been for his Considering Cap and his considering,&lt;br /&gt;Perhaps Jack would have run. But instead, he stayed quiet. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After much crunching, smacking, and munching,&lt;br /&gt; Jack heard the giant husband say, &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Fe, fi, fo, fum,&lt;br /&gt;Salted child! Yum, yum!&lt;br /&gt;Come what may,&lt;br /&gt;Come what might,&lt;br /&gt;I’ll have a fresh child&lt;br /&gt;For my supper tonight!”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But as he rose from his chair, &lt;br /&gt;The giant sniffed the air again. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And sniffed again. And then again. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Fe, fi, fo, fum!”&lt;br /&gt;The giant intoned.&lt;br /&gt;“I smell the blood&lt;br /&gt;Of an Englishman!”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So saying, and giving his wife a distrustful look, the giant began to clatter about the room, overturning boxes and opening doors. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“There is no such here!” said the wife. &lt;br /&gt;“Must be your imagination!”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Be he alive&lt;br /&gt;Or be he dead,”&lt;br /&gt;The giant chanted as he searched;&lt;br /&gt;“I’ll grind his bones&lt;br /&gt;To make my bread!”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Really!” said the wife. “Such an imagination!”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The harp, however, tried to tell a different story. &lt;br /&gt;Slowly, plucked in rhythm, the harp said,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Yes, he’s here,&lt;br /&gt;Yes he’s here.&lt;br /&gt;A sweet morsel&lt;br /&gt;To bring you cheer.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Yes!” cried the husband.&lt;br /&gt;“Dessert indeed!&lt;br /&gt;English, English blood&lt;br /&gt;Warm and salty!”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The giant searched; &lt;br /&gt;His wife complained; &lt;br /&gt;The harp sang on; &lt;br /&gt;And Jack sweated for his life. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After what seemed like forever, though,&lt;br /&gt;The warmth of the afternoon&lt;br /&gt;And his heavy salted meal&lt;br /&gt;Made the giant drowsy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And so he curled up &lt;br /&gt;Next the fire and fell asleep.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;A Narrow Escape&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As the giant snored, Jack heard the kettle lid lifted. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Go now! Run for your life,” the giant wife whispered desperately. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And so Jack snuck toward the door. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But then he gave his Considering Cap a scratch. &lt;br /&gt;And he looked about the room.&lt;br /&gt;He spied on the table beside the giant husband&lt;br /&gt;A bag spilling out coins of gold.&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;Stolen, it was, Jack considered. &lt;br /&gt;From the poor people below. &lt;br /&gt;Why shouldn’t Jack just steal it right back?&lt;br /&gt;What was wrong with a good turn for himself&lt;br /&gt;And his poor mother, starving at home? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“C’mon! C’mon!” &lt;br /&gt;The giant wife whispered&lt;br /&gt;As the giant husband snored &lt;br /&gt;And the harp plucked out &lt;br /&gt;As loud as she might,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Yes, he’s here,&lt;br /&gt;Yes he’s here.&lt;br /&gt;Stealing a thing&lt;br /&gt;That you hold dear.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But the warmth and the meal conspired to keep the giant asleep. And thus Jack snuck past the sleeping giant, took the bag of gold, ran across the clouds, and found himself home by supper.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;Nothing Hasty About It&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hasty pudding&lt;br /&gt;Is just the reverse;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Must be cooked&lt;br /&gt;Oh, so slowly;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The wheat flour mixed,&lt;br /&gt;Oh, so slowly, &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Into boiling water, then&lt;br /&gt;Cooked, oh, so slowly.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Not hasty this pudding&lt;br /&gt;At all.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;Jack’s Mother Is Very Pleased&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Where have you been?”&lt;br /&gt;Jack’s mother asked.&lt;br /&gt;“I feared that perhaps&lt;br /&gt;The giant had gotten you.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Oh, no,” said Jack&lt;br /&gt;“Quite the opposite!&lt;br /&gt;It was I who got the giant!”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So saying, Jack put the bag of gold down on the tiny table with a “thunk.” &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jack’s mother upended the bag&lt;br /&gt;And gold spilled all across the tiny table. &lt;br /&gt;“Our troubles are no more!” Jack’s mother said. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But that was not to be the case.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;A Second Trip Up the Beanstalk&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As his mother snored quietly,&lt;br /&gt;Jack gave his Considering Cap a scratch&lt;br /&gt;And considered climbing the beanstalk again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jack could hear,&lt;br /&gt;However faintly, &lt;br /&gt;A beautiful music,&lt;br /&gt;As sweet as honey,&lt;br /&gt;As dark as molasses,&lt;br /&gt;As mysterious as &lt;br /&gt;The darkest night. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yet now;&lt;br /&gt;Now Jack knew&lt;br /&gt;From whence it came. . .&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Why shouldn’t he climb again? &lt;br /&gt;Jack considered.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The giant was not so very bright,&lt;br /&gt;And his wife was so very kind.&lt;br /&gt;And then there was the hen,&lt;br /&gt;The hen who laid golden eggs.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Wouldn’t such a hen be&lt;br /&gt;Just the thing for Jack and his mother?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Why should a thieving, murdering giant&lt;br /&gt;Have such a thing to himself?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And so,&lt;br /&gt;Without more considering,&lt;br /&gt;Jack filled the gourd with water&lt;br /&gt;And began the long and arduous climb.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Up, up, and up the beanstalk,&lt;br /&gt;Up into the clouds once again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;The Hen Who Lays Golden Eggs&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Why ever have you come back?” &lt;br /&gt;The giant wife exclaimed at the door.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Really, you mustn’t have come back!&lt;br /&gt;My husband is angry, so very angry about his gold.&lt;br /&gt;Don’t you understand? He eats children like you!&lt;br /&gt;For breakfast, lunch, and supper!&lt;br /&gt;And now I fear he will eat you too!”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“You have been so,&lt;br /&gt;So kind to me,” Jack &lt;br /&gt;Said to the giant wife.&lt;br /&gt;I ask only one thing more—&lt;br /&gt;That you stand aside&lt;br /&gt;As I take that chicken home!&lt;br /&gt;Then, I will trouble you no more.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“I fear for you life!”&lt;br /&gt;The giant wife said.&lt;br /&gt;“My husband will be back&lt;br /&gt;At sunrise.  Back with a child&lt;br /&gt;That I will fry for breakfast!”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jack considered for a moment,&lt;br /&gt;Giving his cap a scratch,&lt;br /&gt;But only for a moment,&lt;br /&gt;Then he rushed toward the hall&lt;br /&gt;To take the hen who lays golden eggs.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As he entered the room&lt;br /&gt;The harp began to pluck out,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Yes, he’s here,&lt;br /&gt;Yes he’s here.&lt;br /&gt;A thieving child&lt;br /&gt;To take what’s dear.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jack did not listen to the harp’s song, however.&lt;br /&gt;Rather, he dashed across the room and scooped up&lt;br /&gt;The hen that lays the golden eggs.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At that moment Jack heard the stomp, stomp, stomp of giant steps and the chocked cry of a child in distress. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“You must, must run ever so fast and save yourself!” the giant wife cried.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The harp plucked out,&lt;br /&gt;“Yes, he’s here,&lt;br /&gt;Yes he’s here.&lt;br /&gt;A sweet morsel&lt;br /&gt;To bring you cheer.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Outside, Jack heard a “thunk” and another “thunk,” and so the child’s cries stopped.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jack considered not a moment&lt;br /&gt;And jumped directly out the window&lt;br /&gt;And ran and ran &lt;br /&gt;The chicken clucking all the while&lt;br /&gt;All the way across the clouds&lt;br /&gt;And rushing, rushing down the beanstalk he went,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And so home again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;The Giant is Not Pleased &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Walking into his banqueting hall,&lt;br /&gt;The giant threw the dead child upon the floor&lt;br /&gt;And began sniffing at the air. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He sniffed. &lt;br /&gt;And walked about.&lt;br /&gt;And sniffed again. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And then again. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Fe, fi, fo, fum!”&lt;br /&gt;The giant intoned.&lt;br /&gt;“I smell the blood&lt;br /&gt;Of an Englishman!”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“It’s only your imagination!” the giant wife said, but half-heartedly this time. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The giant sniffed the air &lt;br /&gt;And clattered about the room, &lt;br /&gt;Overturning boxes, opening doors. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Be he alive&lt;br /&gt;Or be he dead,”&lt;br /&gt;The giant chanted as he searched;&lt;br /&gt;“I’ll grind his bones&lt;br /&gt;To make my bread!”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The harp plucked out,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“He was here;&lt;br /&gt;He was here.&lt;br /&gt;A dastardly boy&lt;br /&gt;Who robbed your cheer.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The giant grew angrier&lt;br /&gt;And threw things around, saying,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Fe, fi, fo, fum!&lt;br /&gt;“I smell the blood&lt;br /&gt;Of an Englishman!”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The harp sang,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“He was here;&lt;br /&gt;He was here,&lt;br /&gt;“But now he’s run&lt;br /&gt;Away with what’s dear.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Screaming madly, the giant &lt;br /&gt;Shoved his sobbing wife&lt;br /&gt;Nearly into the fire.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Be he alive&lt;br /&gt;Or be he dead,”&lt;br /&gt;I’ll grind his bones&lt;br /&gt;To make my bread!”&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6087500516859723396-7106144456586311593?l=deityanddouble.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://deityanddouble.blogspot.com/feeds/7106144456586311593/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6087500516859723396&amp;postID=7106144456586311593' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6087500516859723396/posts/default/7106144456586311593'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6087500516859723396/posts/default/7106144456586311593'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://deityanddouble.blogspot.com/2010/05/unwelcome-welcome.html' title='An Unwelcome Welcome'/><author><name>d. breeden</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13190022994900518555</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_HVL3aXrFRuk/Se8u-eMIRWI/AAAAAAAAACs/iwOiEpc4QQM/S220/006.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6087500516859723396.post-4760516671233194902</id><published>2010-05-03T14:33:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2010-05-03T14:33:23.471-05:00</updated><title type='text'>A Welcome Welcome</title><content type='html'>As Jack walked&lt;br /&gt;He wondered what to say&lt;br /&gt;To such rich people&lt;br /&gt;As would live in&lt;br /&gt;A castle on a cloud.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Never had Jack seen&lt;br /&gt;Rich people before.&lt;br /&gt;He would have to &lt;br /&gt;Consider that, yet&lt;br /&gt;Jack felt very hungry&lt;br /&gt;And thought maybe,&lt;br /&gt;Just maybe, people&lt;br /&gt;So rich as to live on clouds&lt;br /&gt;Might feed a poor boy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And so it was &lt;br /&gt;That Jack came&lt;br /&gt;To the looming door,&lt;br /&gt;And, after scratching&lt;br /&gt;His Considering Cap,&lt;br /&gt;He reached high&lt;br /&gt;On his tippy toes&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And barely budged the knocker&lt;br /&gt;That was heavy and iron&lt;br /&gt;And as big around&lt;br /&gt;As a barrel.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Rat-tat-tat&lt;br /&gt;Went the knocker,&lt;br /&gt;Ever so faintly,&lt;br /&gt;And&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Rat-tat-tat &lt;br /&gt;Again,&lt;br /&gt;Requiring all Jack’s strength.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jack considered&lt;br /&gt;Running away—considered&lt;br /&gt;Climbing right back &lt;br /&gt;Down the beanstalk.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But he considered again—&lt;br /&gt;How hungry he was.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And so he stayed waiting&lt;br /&gt;At the bottom of the big door.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Which, after a huge clang&lt;br /&gt;And much creaking, &lt;br /&gt;Opened,&lt;br /&gt;Leaving Jack nearly&lt;br /&gt;Scarred from his wits.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For there before him stood&lt;br /&gt;A giant as tall as the buildings&lt;br /&gt;In the village, at least &lt;br /&gt;Two stories, if not more,&lt;br /&gt;If not as tall as the chimneys&lt;br /&gt;In the village,&lt;br /&gt;Which were very tall.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A very tall giant.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Was this the giant everyone told of&lt;br /&gt;Who ate children in their sleep?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Hello, little boy,” said the giant,&lt;br /&gt;Bending toward him. &lt;br /&gt;Yes, this was a giant,&lt;br /&gt;No doubt of that,&lt;br /&gt;But this giant had a kindly face;&lt;br /&gt;A grandmother sort of face,&lt;br /&gt;And the face smiled.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Hello,” said Jack. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“It’s very nice of you to come,”&lt;br /&gt;Said the kindly voice. “But you &lt;br /&gt;Really must leave. My husband&lt;br /&gt;Eats little children like you, you know.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“I didn’t know!” said Jack.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Well he does. He’s off hunting even now.&lt;br /&gt;You mustn’t be here when he returns!”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jack gave a scratch to his Considering Cap.&lt;br /&gt;“But I’m ever so hungry,” Jack said.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Ah,” said the kindly voice.&lt;br /&gt;“Yes, you do look wan.” &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And so the kindly giant led Jack through the castle grounds and into a vast banqueting hall with roaring fire. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;A Question of Complicity&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Why was it then&lt;br /&gt;That she stayed there,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Complicity agreeing,&lt;br /&gt;Participating—&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In her small way,&lt;br /&gt;But none the less—&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The thefts, the murders. . .&lt;br /&gt;Her complicity? &lt;br /&gt;All Things Delightful&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Inside the banqueting hall Jack felt quite small. &lt;br /&gt;Teacups were the size of laundry kettles.  &lt;br /&gt;Chairs were as tall as hedges. &lt;br /&gt;And the fireplace was the size of his cottage. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yet the warmth of the room comforted him, and a beautiful music filled the room. The music he had heard in his sleep! He looked about the room and saw there in a corner a golden harp that played of its own accord and had carved on it the face of a beautiful goddess. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The music was as &lt;br /&gt;Sweet as honey,&lt;br /&gt;As dark as molasses,&lt;br /&gt;As mysterious as &lt;br /&gt;The darkest night. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And the smell in the room.  It was hasty pudding!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“You will be wanting hasty pudding,” said the kindly giant. &lt;br /&gt;With that, she ladled a bowlful as large as the tub Jack used for washing. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ah, thought Jack, if only I could take some of this pudding to Mother!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The giant smiled. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“What a lovely hen!” Jack commented as he ate. And she was.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Yes, said the giant. And she is a magic hen. She lays eggs of gold!”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Golden eggs! thought Jack. How marvelous was this place. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jack ate and ate. And then ate some more, to his heart’s content, using his hands, since the giant could find no spoon small enough for Jack. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jack was a very content boy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That is, until the giant started, looking frightened. &lt;br /&gt;“I hear my husband!” the giant wife said. “You must hide!”  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And indeed when he listened to something besides the music, Jack heard it too—the stomp, stomp, stomp of tremendous feet.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6087500516859723396-4760516671233194902?l=deityanddouble.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://deityanddouble.blogspot.com/feeds/4760516671233194902/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6087500516859723396&amp;postID=4760516671233194902' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6087500516859723396/posts/default/4760516671233194902'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6087500516859723396/posts/default/4760516671233194902'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://deityanddouble.blogspot.com/2010/05/welcome-welcome.html' title='A Welcome Welcome'/><author><name>d. breeden</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13190022994900518555</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_HVL3aXrFRuk/Se8u-eMIRWI/AAAAAAAAACs/iwOiEpc4QQM/S220/006.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6087500516859723396.post-3998351336111907051</id><published>2010-04-26T07:56:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2010-04-26T07:56:34.948-05:00</updated><title type='text'>After Midnight</title><content type='html'>Sometime just after midnight&lt;br /&gt;Jack awoke, feeling very hungry.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As he listened to the darkness,&lt;br /&gt;Jack heard music—  &lt;br /&gt;A harp playing softly.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The music was as &lt;br /&gt;Sweet as honey,&lt;br /&gt;As dark as molasses,&lt;br /&gt;As mysterious as &lt;br /&gt;The darkest night. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;How could that be?&lt;br /&gt;Wondered Jack,&lt;br /&gt;But without his Considering Cap&lt;br /&gt;He really could not imagine.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So quietly he got up&lt;br /&gt;As his mother snored softly&lt;br /&gt;And slipped to the kitchen window&lt;br /&gt;To see what was the matter.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And what should Jack see &lt;br /&gt;Outside the window&lt;br /&gt;But a giant plant&lt;br /&gt;Rising toward the sky&lt;br /&gt;As thick as a tree&lt;br /&gt;But its top leading &lt;br /&gt;All the way beyond the clouds.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What had come to pass?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jack slipped out the door,&lt;br /&gt;Found his Considering Cap &lt;br /&gt;Out in the garden&lt;br /&gt;At the base of the giant plant,&lt;br /&gt;And put it on.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jack scratched his Considering Cap,&lt;br /&gt;Considering what had happened.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Why had there grown such a wondrous plant?&lt;br /&gt;Could it be,&lt;br /&gt;Jack considered,&lt;br /&gt;That the magic bean&lt;br /&gt;Had sprouted?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Perhaps so, Jack considered.&lt;br /&gt;Perhaps that was precisely&lt;br /&gt;What had happened.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And where might the beanstalk lead?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Above the clouds,&lt;br /&gt;No doubt about that.&lt;br /&gt;And there had to be a top.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This Jack decided&lt;br /&gt;As he scratched his&lt;br /&gt;Considering Cap.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then Jack considered a bit more&lt;br /&gt;And decided to find the top.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;The Harp Says Itself&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Chthonic the music,&lt;br /&gt;Self-playing,&lt;br /&gt;Creating out&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Of the depth of itself.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Chthonic,&lt;br /&gt;Self-creating,&lt;br /&gt;As are we all.&lt;br /&gt;  &lt;br /&gt;A Dark Climb Up&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And so as his mother slept&lt;br /&gt;Jack filled a gourd with water,&lt;br /&gt;And, despite being very,&lt;br /&gt;Very hungry, Jack grabbed&lt;br /&gt;Hold of the beanstalk.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And he climbed,&lt;br /&gt;And climbed;&lt;br /&gt;And climbed some more.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then he had a bit of water&lt;br /&gt;And climbed some more.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And he climbed,&lt;br /&gt;And climbed;&lt;br /&gt;And climbed some more.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And all the while &lt;br /&gt;The little cottage got smaller,&lt;br /&gt;And the clouds loomed larger,&lt;br /&gt;And the stars twinkled&lt;br /&gt;And twinkled,&lt;br /&gt;And the dark faded&lt;br /&gt;Until a faint light&lt;br /&gt;Filled the east.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And then. . .&lt;br /&gt;And then. . .&lt;br /&gt;Jack touched the cloud!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was gray,&lt;br /&gt;And wet,&lt;br /&gt;And Jack climbed some more.&lt;br /&gt;And then it was foggy,&lt;br /&gt;And Jack climbed some more.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And he climbed;&lt;br /&gt;And climbed;&lt;br /&gt;And climbed some more;&lt;br /&gt;And then. . .&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And then. . .&lt;br /&gt;Out the sun broke&lt;br /&gt;Into a clear,&lt;br /&gt;Beautiful morning.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And all the earth. . .&lt;br /&gt;But wait!&lt;br /&gt;This was the top of a cloud!&lt;br /&gt;All around&lt;br /&gt;Stretched out &lt;br /&gt;Wispy white—  &lt;br /&gt;A world of white cotton&lt;br /&gt;Rather than grass.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And there, far off,&lt;br /&gt;Stood a castle,&lt;br /&gt;A big, shimmering&lt;br /&gt;Castle with towers&lt;br /&gt;And a big wooden door.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh! Considered Jack.&lt;br /&gt;If only I could go there!&lt;br /&gt;But did he dare&lt;br /&gt;Let the cloud hold him up?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jack scratched &lt;br /&gt;His Considering Cap&lt;br /&gt;And considered.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If a cloud could&lt;br /&gt;Hold up such a castle,&lt;br /&gt;Mightn’t it hold him as well?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jack took a deep breath&lt;br /&gt;And stretched his foot,&lt;br /&gt;And there—the cloud&lt;br /&gt;Felt solid, like a rock!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So Jack gave a whoop&lt;br /&gt;And jumped onto the cloud.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6087500516859723396-3998351336111907051?l=deityanddouble.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://deityanddouble.blogspot.com/feeds/3998351336111907051/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6087500516859723396&amp;postID=3998351336111907051' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6087500516859723396/posts/default/3998351336111907051'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6087500516859723396/posts/default/3998351336111907051'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://deityanddouble.blogspot.com/2010/04/after-midnight.html' title='After Midnight'/><author><name>d. breeden</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13190022994900518555</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_HVL3aXrFRuk/Se8u-eMIRWI/AAAAAAAAACs/iwOiEpc4QQM/S220/006.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6087500516859723396.post-197031404405976417</id><published>2010-04-09T07:49:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2010-04-09T07:49:42.927-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Mother Is Not At All Pleased</title><content type='html'>“A capful of magic bean!  How much more stupid can you be!” Jack’s mother shouted, giving him a whack on the head. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“I have birthed a fool!” Jack’s mother shouted. “You have ruined us! Starved us! You have killed us and we will never make it another day!”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“But it’s a magic bean!” Jack insisted, feeling that he was about to cry. “Magic. The man dressed all in black said so!”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“We’ve been cheated! You are a fool!” Mother cried. “We are ruined!”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At this, in her anger, Mother grabbed Jack’s Considering Cap filled with the magic bean and threw them both out the kitchen window into the barren garden. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Go to bed! Now!” Mother screamed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“But my Considering Cap!” Jack shouted.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“To bed with you! You have killed us with starvation, you foolish, foolish boy! You’re as bad as your father. Oh, if only the giant who comes in the night had eaten you, as he has so many children, and taken us out of our misery. To bed!”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jack, being an obedient boy, went and lay down on the floor. Jack considered, but without his Considering Cap he wasn’t sure he could consider at all well. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Why couldn’t they, Jack considered, at least cook the bean and have one last warm meal? Why hadn’t the giant eaten him in his sleep long ago, so that he and his dear mother would now be out of their misery?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh, the questions. Oh the considering to be done!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jack wondered and wondered, quietly crying himself to sleep.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6087500516859723396-197031404405976417?l=deityanddouble.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://deityanddouble.blogspot.com/feeds/197031404405976417/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6087500516859723396&amp;postID=197031404405976417' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6087500516859723396/posts/default/197031404405976417'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6087500516859723396/posts/default/197031404405976417'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://deityanddouble.blogspot.com/2010/04/mother-is-not-at-all-pleased.html' title='Mother Is Not At All Pleased'/><author><name>d. breeden</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13190022994900518555</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_HVL3aXrFRuk/Se8u-eMIRWI/AAAAAAAAACs/iwOiEpc4QQM/S220/006.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6087500516859723396.post-2832532463038492860</id><published>2010-03-24T06:20:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2010-03-24T06:20:20.387-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Jack Strikes a Bargain</title><content type='html'>Jack hadn’t got far before he reached a fork in the path. &lt;br /&gt;There at the fork stood a man dressed all in black.&lt;br /&gt;The man carried a leather bag. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“That’s a very old cow you’ve got there,” &lt;br /&gt;Said the man dressed all in black.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Yes,” Jack said, “and it pains me to part with her. &lt;br /&gt;But I am taking her to the village to sell.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Ah,” said the man, turning to go down the fork in the road. &lt;br /&gt;Jack scratched his cap and considered for a moment. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Might you buy her?” Jack said. &lt;br /&gt;“That would save me hours and hours of walking.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Well,” said the man dressed all in black, &lt;br /&gt;“That I just might. But I have no money. &lt;br /&gt;All I have is a magic bean.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So saying, the man dressed all in black&lt;br /&gt;Opened his leather bag.  The bag was filled&lt;br /&gt;With one huge, gleaming, golden bean. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“This is a magic bean,” &lt;br /&gt;The man dressed all in black said. &lt;br /&gt;“And I will trade it for your cow.&lt;br /&gt;Use it wisely and you will never hunger again. &lt;br /&gt;Use it unwisely, and you will want always.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jack scratched his Considering Cap and considered it. &lt;br /&gt;It was a beautiful bean. &lt;br /&gt;And. . .imagine! . . .Never wanting hungry again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was not hard to imagine the bean was magical, &lt;br /&gt;Just as the man dressed all in black said it was. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Alright, then,” Jack said, pulling off his cap &lt;br /&gt;And holding it out toward the man dressed all in black. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The man dressed all in black reached into his leather bag, &lt;br /&gt;Pulled out the beautiful magic bean, &lt;br /&gt;And slipped it into Jack’s Considering Cap. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then the man dressed all in black &lt;br /&gt;Grasped the cow’s rope &lt;br /&gt;And off he went down the fork in the road. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Goodbye, Cow!”&lt;br /&gt;Jack said.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A Considering Cap full of magic bean!  &lt;br /&gt;Ah, now, there’s a good thing to have, thought Jack,&lt;br /&gt;Hugging his cap and the bean tight&lt;br /&gt;And heading home to find his mother.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6087500516859723396-2832532463038492860?l=deityanddouble.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://deityanddouble.blogspot.com/feeds/2832532463038492860/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6087500516859723396&amp;postID=2832532463038492860' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6087500516859723396/posts/default/2832532463038492860'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6087500516859723396/posts/default/2832532463038492860'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://deityanddouble.blogspot.com/2010/03/jack-strikes-bargain.html' title='Jack Strikes a Bargain'/><author><name>d. breeden</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13190022994900518555</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_HVL3aXrFRuk/Se8u-eMIRWI/AAAAAAAAACs/iwOiEpc4QQM/S220/006.JPG'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6087500516859723396.post-5319964714167079842</id><published>2010-03-16T18:21:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2010-03-16T18:21:41.322-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Once Upon a Time</title><content type='html'>There lived a boy named John, Jack to his friends and family. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jack lived with his mother but not his father because his father was dead. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jack and his mother were poor.  &lt;br /&gt;Very poor. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They lived in a tiny cottage with &lt;br /&gt;A three-legged stool &lt;br /&gt;And a tiny table for furnishing. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The other furniture they had burned to keep warm the past winter. &lt;br /&gt;Now it was just becoming spring, &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And all the food was gone. &lt;br /&gt;And all the wood to cook it with. &lt;br /&gt;Furthermore, they had no hay for their cow, &lt;br /&gt;The only thing left to sell.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They slept on the floor&lt;br /&gt;Covered by rags &lt;br /&gt;They had not burned.&lt;br /&gt;They were very, very poor.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jack was too small to take up the hard tasks his father had done around the farm. &lt;br /&gt;Nor did they have a horse, having sold that to pay the taxes. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They were in a very, very bad way.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And so upon a day&lt;br /&gt;Jack’s mother sent Jack and the cow&lt;br /&gt;To the village.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Sell the cow, Jack,”&lt;br /&gt;Jack’s mother said,&lt;br /&gt;“And bring us back&lt;br /&gt;What little money she will bring.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“But poor, departed father loved that cow!”said Jack. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“We can’t feed it. &lt;br /&gt;Nor can we feed ourselves.&lt;br /&gt;Sell the cow. After that,&lt;br /&gt;Who can tell our fate?”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jack always tried his best to do what he could,&lt;br /&gt;And so off he went, leading the cow with a rope.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But not before he grabbed his constant companion, &lt;br /&gt;A small wool cap his father had given him. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jack called the cap his Considering Cap.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6087500516859723396-5319964714167079842?l=deityanddouble.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://deityanddouble.blogspot.com/feeds/5319964714167079842/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6087500516859723396&amp;postID=5319964714167079842' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6087500516859723396/posts/default/5319964714167079842'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6087500516859723396/posts/default/5319964714167079842'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://deityanddouble.blogspot.com/2010/03/once-upon-time.html' title='Once Upon a Time'/><author><name>d. breeden</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13190022994900518555</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_HVL3aXrFRuk/Se8u-eMIRWI/AAAAAAAAACs/iwOiEpc4QQM/S220/006.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6087500516859723396.post-1109915172217057814</id><published>2010-03-11T09:13:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2010-03-11T09:13:08.952-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Jack and the Beanstalk, A Prologue</title><content type='html'>There is the story&lt;br /&gt;First&lt;br /&gt;Then there is the spin&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Noah and how&lt;br /&gt;He dodged drowning&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pharaoh and how&lt;br /&gt;He deserved it&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jack and how&lt;br /&gt;Theft and murder&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Might be OK&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There is the story&lt;br /&gt;Then the spin&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6087500516859723396-1109915172217057814?l=deityanddouble.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='related' href='http://www.drpoetry.com' title='Jack and the Beanstalk, A Prologue'/><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://deityanddouble.blogspot.com/feeds/1109915172217057814/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6087500516859723396&amp;postID=1109915172217057814' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6087500516859723396/posts/default/1109915172217057814'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6087500516859723396/posts/default/1109915172217057814'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://deityanddouble.blogspot.com/2010/03/jack-and-beanstalk-prologue.html' title='Jack and the Beanstalk, A Prologue'/><author><name>d. breeden</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13190022994900518555</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_HVL3aXrFRuk/Se8u-eMIRWI/AAAAAAAAACs/iwOiEpc4QQM/S220/006.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6087500516859723396.post-3413605139872169511</id><published>2010-03-01T07:30:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2010-03-01T07:30:55.282-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Overheard</title><content type='html'>‘Use to be’&lt;br /&gt;Them’s the magic words&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You use to be&lt;br /&gt;A exotic dancer&lt;br /&gt;I use to be&lt;br /&gt;Mean to you&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Them’s the magic&lt;br /&gt;Words—use to &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Be—ain’t no more&lt;br /&gt;Them’s the magic words&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6087500516859723396-3413605139872169511?l=deityanddouble.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://deityanddouble.blogspot.com/feeds/3413605139872169511/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6087500516859723396&amp;postID=3413605139872169511' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6087500516859723396/posts/default/3413605139872169511'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6087500516859723396/posts/default/3413605139872169511'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://deityanddouble.blogspot.com/2010/03/overheard.html' title='Overheard'/><author><name>d. breeden</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13190022994900518555</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_HVL3aXrFRuk/Se8u-eMIRWI/AAAAAAAAACs/iwOiEpc4QQM/S220/006.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6087500516859723396.post-1717088634003713686</id><published>2010-02-20T08:53:00.001-06:00</published><updated>2010-02-20T08:53:22.722-06:00</updated><title type='text'>God the Instance</title><content type='html'>God it may be&lt;br /&gt;Lives real a character&lt;br /&gt;In a story&lt;br /&gt;Subject for a poem&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Like love, God&lt;br /&gt;It may be&lt;br /&gt;Lives in the instance&lt;br /&gt;Never in abstract&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Like Justice, God&lt;br /&gt;Like Truth, God&lt;br /&gt;Like Good, God&lt;br /&gt;Like Love, God&lt;br /&gt;Lives in the instance&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In a story&lt;br /&gt;In a poem&lt;br /&gt;In a life&lt;br /&gt;In a moment&lt;br /&gt;Never abstract&lt;br /&gt;Lives in the instance&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6087500516859723396-1717088634003713686?l=deityanddouble.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://deityanddouble.blogspot.com/feeds/1717088634003713686/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6087500516859723396&amp;postID=1717088634003713686' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6087500516859723396/posts/default/1717088634003713686'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6087500516859723396/posts/default/1717088634003713686'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://deityanddouble.blogspot.com/2010/02/god-instance.html' title='God the Instance'/><author><name>d. breeden</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13190022994900518555</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_HVL3aXrFRuk/Se8u-eMIRWI/AAAAAAAAACs/iwOiEpc4QQM/S220/006.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6087500516859723396.post-6290164275682935218</id><published>2010-02-10T10:12:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2010-02-10T10:12:43.250-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Map</title><content type='html'>The world is not&lt;br /&gt;As we want it&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;WAAAAAAAAA&lt;br /&gt;Being the first &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Reaction&lt;br /&gt;Then bowing&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Scraping &lt;br /&gt;Thinking&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And other&lt;br /&gt;Staunches&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6087500516859723396-6290164275682935218?l=deityanddouble.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://deityanddouble.blogspot.com/feeds/6290164275682935218/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6087500516859723396&amp;postID=6290164275682935218' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6087500516859723396/posts/default/6290164275682935218'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6087500516859723396/posts/default/6290164275682935218'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://deityanddouble.blogspot.com/2010/02/map.html' title='Map'/><author><name>d. breeden</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13190022994900518555</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_HVL3aXrFRuk/Se8u-eMIRWI/AAAAAAAAACs/iwOiEpc4QQM/S220/006.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6087500516859723396.post-2633280750927903059</id><published>2010-01-27T08:25:00.001-06:00</published><updated>2010-01-27T08:25:09.244-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Walking the Roof of Hell</title><content type='html'>Nearly I could sniff&lt;br /&gt;The sulphur out of hell&lt;br /&gt;When I was a kid&lt;br /&gt;Sometimes&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The steam of the floor&lt;br /&gt;Which was the roof&lt;br /&gt;After all&lt;br /&gt;Of perdition, wasn’t it?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I thought, stepping light&lt;br /&gt;At times&lt;br /&gt;Hard others, stomping &lt;br /&gt;To wake the dead&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6087500516859723396-2633280750927903059?l=deityanddouble.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://deityanddouble.blogspot.com/feeds/2633280750927903059/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6087500516859723396&amp;postID=2633280750927903059' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6087500516859723396/posts/default/2633280750927903059'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6087500516859723396/posts/default/2633280750927903059'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://deityanddouble.blogspot.com/2010/01/walking-roof-of-hell.html' title='Walking the Roof of Hell'/><author><name>d. breeden</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13190022994900518555</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_HVL3aXrFRuk/Se8u-eMIRWI/AAAAAAAAACs/iwOiEpc4QQM/S220/006.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6087500516859723396.post-1310387448868667319</id><published>2010-01-21T07:58:00.001-06:00</published><updated>2010-01-21T07:58:50.627-06:00</updated><title type='text'>The Spiritual Law of Boxes</title><content type='html'>The box locks&lt;br /&gt;Itself&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The unlocked box&lt;br /&gt;Is another &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thing&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6087500516859723396-1310387448868667319?l=deityanddouble.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://deityanddouble.blogspot.com/feeds/1310387448868667319/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6087500516859723396&amp;postID=1310387448868667319' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6087500516859723396/posts/default/1310387448868667319'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6087500516859723396/posts/default/1310387448868667319'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://deityanddouble.blogspot.com/2010/01/spiritual-law-of-boxes.html' title='The Spiritual Law of Boxes'/><author><name>d. breeden</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13190022994900518555</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_HVL3aXrFRuk/Se8u-eMIRWI/AAAAAAAAACs/iwOiEpc4QQM/S220/006.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6087500516859723396.post-6631548494235125439</id><published>2010-01-13T07:18:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2010-01-13T07:18:35.271-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Window Dressing</title><content type='html'>All the pretty things&lt;br /&gt;The store windows bring&lt;br /&gt;All the shiny things&lt;br /&gt;We watch&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;From the rain&lt;br /&gt;All the pretty things&lt;br /&gt;The sirens go by&lt;br /&gt;All the shiny things&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We watch &lt;br /&gt;From the rain&lt;br /&gt;Frilly things &lt;br /&gt;In the rain&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6087500516859723396-6631548494235125439?l=deityanddouble.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://deityanddouble.blogspot.com/feeds/6631548494235125439/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6087500516859723396&amp;postID=6631548494235125439' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6087500516859723396/posts/default/6631548494235125439'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6087500516859723396/posts/default/6631548494235125439'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://deityanddouble.blogspot.com/2010/01/window-dressing.html' title='Window Dressing'/><author><name>d. breeden</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13190022994900518555</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_HVL3aXrFRuk/Se8u-eMIRWI/AAAAAAAAACs/iwOiEpc4QQM/S220/006.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6087500516859723396.post-3444378695931003852</id><published>2009-12-31T08:04:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2009-12-31T08:04:38.901-06:00</updated><title type='text'>down it comes to that</title><content type='html'>How we gonna &lt;br /&gt;Lose what&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Never we had?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sometimes&lt;br /&gt;Down it comes&lt;br /&gt;To that&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6087500516859723396-3444378695931003852?l=deityanddouble.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://deityanddouble.blogspot.com/feeds/3444378695931003852/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6087500516859723396&amp;postID=3444378695931003852' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6087500516859723396/posts/default/3444378695931003852'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6087500516859723396/posts/default/3444378695931003852'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://deityanddouble.blogspot.com/2009/12/down-it-comes-to-that.html' title='down it comes to that'/><author><name>d. breeden</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13190022994900518555</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_HVL3aXrFRuk/Se8u-eMIRWI/AAAAAAAAACs/iwOiEpc4QQM/S220/006.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6087500516859723396.post-6625334128393046488</id><published>2009-12-22T08:32:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2009-12-22T08:32:06.751-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Truth-Telling Does</title><content type='html'>Cut the words&lt;br /&gt;To the bone&lt;br /&gt;Truth-telling does&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cuts the time spent&lt;br /&gt;Into stone&lt;br /&gt;Truth-telling does&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Burns the words&lt;br /&gt;Deep to deep&lt;br /&gt;Truth-telling does&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Like the lake&lt;br /&gt;Like the clouds&lt;br /&gt;Truth-telling does&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To wade in the sky&lt;br /&gt;Cuts to the bone&lt;br /&gt;Truth-telling does&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To words, to riddles&lt;br /&gt;Truth-telling does&lt;br /&gt;Cuts the words &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To the bone&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6087500516859723396-6625334128393046488?l=deityanddouble.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://deityanddouble.blogspot.com/feeds/6625334128393046488/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6087500516859723396&amp;postID=6625334128393046488' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6087500516859723396/posts/default/6625334128393046488'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6087500516859723396/posts/default/6625334128393046488'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://deityanddouble.blogspot.com/2009/12/truth-telling-does.html' title='Truth-Telling Does'/><author><name>d. breeden</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13190022994900518555</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_HVL3aXrFRuk/Se8u-eMIRWI/AAAAAAAAACs/iwOiEpc4QQM/S220/006.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6087500516859723396.post-1470145048614525185</id><published>2009-12-08T07:55:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2009-12-08T07:56:05.280-06:00</updated><title type='text'>The Minus Space</title><content type='html'>Those things&lt;br /&gt;Unspoken&lt;br /&gt;Then&lt;br /&gt;Add down&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Down the camel’s back&lt;br /&gt;Down the axle sunk&lt;br /&gt;Down the heart’s annex&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Those things&lt;br /&gt;Add down&lt;br /&gt;Unspoken&lt;br /&gt;Into the minus space&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6087500516859723396-1470145048614525185?l=deityanddouble.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://deityanddouble.blogspot.com/feeds/1470145048614525185/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6087500516859723396&amp;postID=1470145048614525185' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6087500516859723396/posts/default/1470145048614525185'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6087500516859723396/posts/default/1470145048614525185'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://deityanddouble.blogspot.com/2009/12/minus-space.html' title='The Minus Space'/><author><name>d. breeden</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13190022994900518555</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_HVL3aXrFRuk/Se8u-eMIRWI/AAAAAAAAACs/iwOiEpc4QQM/S220/006.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6087500516859723396.post-4022362217502262559</id><published>2009-11-28T10:24:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2009-11-28T10:25:10.150-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Benediction for Poets</title><content type='html'>Commit then&lt;br /&gt;To the endless&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Wrangle with words&lt;br /&gt;It is not &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That words win&lt;br /&gt;But that such partners&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ever prove&lt;br /&gt;Lack to the task&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Commit then&lt;br /&gt;To the endless &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Wrangle with words&lt;br /&gt;All we hear&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Of the heart’s song&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6087500516859723396-4022362217502262559?l=deityanddouble.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://deityanddouble.blogspot.com/feeds/4022362217502262559/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6087500516859723396&amp;postID=4022362217502262559' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6087500516859723396/posts/default/4022362217502262559'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6087500516859723396/posts/default/4022362217502262559'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://deityanddouble.blogspot.com/2009/11/benediction-for-poets.html' title='Benediction for Poets'/><author><name>d. breeden</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13190022994900518555</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_HVL3aXrFRuk/Se8u-eMIRWI/AAAAAAAAACs/iwOiEpc4QQM/S220/006.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6087500516859723396.post-6955512682882471818</id><published>2009-11-13T08:41:00.003-06:00</published><updated>2009-11-13T08:45:46.956-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Ten Commandments for Something or Other</title><content type='html'>I.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The essential religious category is the sacred&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;II.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The enemy of being is meaninglessness&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;III.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Being being as extravagant as the world&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;IV.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Transcendence being the ideal&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;V.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Which means ecstatic&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;VI.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And grounded community&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;VII.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Meaning in the self from outside the self&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;VIII.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Since the I is the Other&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;IX.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And nothing is not I&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;X.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There being no other&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6087500516859723396-6955512682882471818?l=deityanddouble.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://deityanddouble.blogspot.com/feeds/6955512682882471818/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6087500516859723396&amp;postID=6955512682882471818' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6087500516859723396/posts/default/6955512682882471818'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6087500516859723396/posts/default/6955512682882471818'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://deityanddouble.blogspot.com/2009/11/ten-commandments-for-something-or-other.html' title='Ten Commandments for Something or Other'/><author><name>d. breeden</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13190022994900518555</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_HVL3aXrFRuk/Se8u-eMIRWI/AAAAAAAAACs/iwOiEpc4QQM/S220/006.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6087500516859723396.post-1024153216276790261</id><published>2009-11-05T15:53:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2009-11-05T15:54:10.319-06:00</updated><title type='text'>One Woman's Fire</title><content type='html'>One woman discovered&lt;br /&gt;She could wipe away&lt;br /&gt;Anything with fire&lt;br /&gt;Make it disappear&lt;br /&gt;Irretrievably—her&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Husband’s sad fashions&lt;br /&gt;Her mother’s love letters&lt;br /&gt;From someone named James&lt;br /&gt;Even the notes she herself&lt;br /&gt;Should never have thought&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anything she could get&lt;br /&gt;Into the grill and soaked&lt;br /&gt;In sweet burning fluid &lt;br /&gt;And some things she could not&lt;br /&gt;More than a corner&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At a time but with&lt;br /&gt;Patience even those&lt;br /&gt;One woman discovered&lt;br /&gt;Could be wiped away&lt;br /&gt;Irretrievably—with&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Fire, with flame, even&lt;br /&gt;Memories so harsh&lt;br /&gt;Even those she discovered&lt;br /&gt;She could wipe away&lt;br /&gt;One corner at a time&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6087500516859723396-1024153216276790261?l=deityanddouble.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://deityanddouble.blogspot.com/feeds/1024153216276790261/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6087500516859723396&amp;postID=1024153216276790261' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6087500516859723396/posts/default/1024153216276790261'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6087500516859723396/posts/default/1024153216276790261'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://deityanddouble.blogspot.com/2009/11/one-womans-fire.html' title='One Woman&apos;s Fire'/><author><name>d. breeden</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13190022994900518555</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_HVL3aXrFRuk/Se8u-eMIRWI/AAAAAAAAACs/iwOiEpc4QQM/S220/006.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6087500516859723396.post-6172322938799366505</id><published>2009-10-21T08:45:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2009-10-21T08:45:27.034-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Prosody</title><content type='html'>How many words&lt;br /&gt;   Does it take&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To make&lt;br /&gt;   An elegant&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cry &amp;&lt;br /&gt;What’s an&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Elegant&lt;br /&gt;Cry &amp;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;How make it &lt;br /&gt;Say&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The loss&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6087500516859723396-6172322938799366505?l=deityanddouble.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://deityanddouble.blogspot.com/feeds/6172322938799366505/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6087500516859723396&amp;postID=6172322938799366505' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6087500516859723396/posts/default/6172322938799366505'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6087500516859723396/posts/default/6172322938799366505'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://deityanddouble.blogspot.com/2009/10/prosody.html' title='Prosody'/><author><name>d. breeden</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13190022994900518555</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_HVL3aXrFRuk/Se8u-eMIRWI/AAAAAAAAACs/iwOiEpc4QQM/S220/006.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6087500516859723396.post-624058633905111895</id><published>2009-10-12T09:35:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2009-10-12T09:36:00.458-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Triolet On the Course (of history)</title><content type='html'>Persons have made it up&lt;br /&gt;Sometimes in brute force&lt;br /&gt;Others in art but&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Persons have made it up&lt;br /&gt;Like pies made of mud&lt;br /&gt;What else was the choice&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Persons have made it up&lt;br /&gt;Sometimes in brute force&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6087500516859723396-624058633905111895?l=deityanddouble.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://deityanddouble.blogspot.com/feeds/624058633905111895/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6087500516859723396&amp;postID=624058633905111895' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6087500516859723396/posts/default/624058633905111895'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6087500516859723396/posts/default/624058633905111895'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://deityanddouble.blogspot.com/2009/10/triolet-on-course-of-history.html' title='Triolet On the Course (of history)'/><author><name>d. breeden</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13190022994900518555</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_HVL3aXrFRuk/Se8u-eMIRWI/AAAAAAAAACs/iwOiEpc4QQM/S220/006.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6087500516859723396.post-8042453748250704167</id><published>2009-10-02T07:35:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2009-10-02T07:35:36.653-05:00</updated><title type='text'>After Chiao Jan, Monk</title><content type='html'>How is it&lt;br /&gt;   We talk the end&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Before we hit the shore&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It is the rowing&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Autumn wind&lt;br /&gt;   Hard&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;   On the water&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6087500516859723396-8042453748250704167?l=deityanddouble.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://deityanddouble.blogspot.com/feeds/8042453748250704167/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6087500516859723396&amp;postID=8042453748250704167' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6087500516859723396/posts/default/8042453748250704167'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6087500516859723396/posts/default/8042453748250704167'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://deityanddouble.blogspot.com/2009/10/after-chiao-jan-monk.html' title='After Chiao Jan, Monk'/><author><name>d. breeden</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13190022994900518555</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_HVL3aXrFRuk/Se8u-eMIRWI/AAAAAAAAACs/iwOiEpc4QQM/S220/006.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6087500516859723396.post-7461203355198559335</id><published>2009-09-22T08:18:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2009-09-22T08:19:39.559-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Turning Around</title><content type='html'>Looking back can &lt;br /&gt;Kill you&lt;br /&gt;Ask&lt;br /&gt;Lot’s wife&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ask Orpheus&lt;br /&gt;The harp player&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sometimes stone dead&lt;br /&gt;In a pillar of salt&lt;br /&gt;Sometimes despair&lt;br /&gt;But dead&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ask the harp player&lt;br /&gt;Out of song&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ask the woman&lt;br /&gt;Whose only name&lt;br /&gt;Is possessive &lt;br /&gt;Ask&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And there are other &lt;br /&gt;Ways&lt;br /&gt;To turn in darkness&lt;br /&gt;To look back&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;By even more &lt;br /&gt;Anonymous we’s&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6087500516859723396-7461203355198559335?l=deityanddouble.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://deityanddouble.blogspot.com/feeds/7461203355198559335/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6087500516859723396&amp;postID=7461203355198559335' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6087500516859723396/posts/default/7461203355198559335'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6087500516859723396/posts/default/7461203355198559335'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://deityanddouble.blogspot.com/2009/09/turning-around.html' title='Turning Around'/><author><name>d. breeden</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13190022994900518555</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_HVL3aXrFRuk/Se8u-eMIRWI/AAAAAAAAACs/iwOiEpc4QQM/S220/006.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6087500516859723396.post-4137978393840840023</id><published>2009-09-16T14:36:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2009-09-16T14:37:04.296-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Telling the Time</title><content type='html'>Every moment &lt;br /&gt;   Is the edge&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Question is&lt;br /&gt;   Knowing&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It is the blue&lt;br /&gt;   Sky&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It is this&lt;br /&gt;   Moment&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6087500516859723396-4137978393840840023?l=deityanddouble.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://deityanddouble.blogspot.com/feeds/4137978393840840023/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6087500516859723396&amp;postID=4137978393840840023' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6087500516859723396/posts/default/4137978393840840023'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6087500516859723396/posts/default/4137978393840840023'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://deityanddouble.blogspot.com/2009/09/telling-time.html' title='Telling the Time'/><author><name>d. breeden</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13190022994900518555</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_HVL3aXrFRuk/Se8u-eMIRWI/AAAAAAAAACs/iwOiEpc4QQM/S220/006.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6087500516859723396.post-1853817118260156735</id><published>2009-09-10T08:30:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2009-09-10T08:31:05.943-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Young Person: Your Life</title><content type='html'>Gather lore&lt;br /&gt;Remake the wheel&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And next&lt;br /&gt;And then&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6087500516859723396-1853817118260156735?l=deityanddouble.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://deityanddouble.blogspot.com/feeds/1853817118260156735/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6087500516859723396&amp;postID=1853817118260156735' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6087500516859723396/posts/default/1853817118260156735'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6087500516859723396/posts/default/1853817118260156735'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://deityanddouble.blogspot.com/2009/09/young-person-your-life.html' title='Young Person: Your Life'/><author><name>d. breeden</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13190022994900518555</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_HVL3aXrFRuk/Se8u-eMIRWI/AAAAAAAAACs/iwOiEpc4QQM/S220/006.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6087500516859723396.post-3969050508402761954</id><published>2009-08-27T08:39:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2009-08-27T08:40:13.065-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Not the Question</title><content type='html'>The massive sky&lt;br /&gt;Will forgive you&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The massive ground&lt;br /&gt;Is kind&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You are everywhere&lt;br /&gt;Already&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Wherever&lt;br /&gt;Embraced&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That is not the question&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6087500516859723396-3969050508402761954?l=deityanddouble.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://deityanddouble.blogspot.com/feeds/3969050508402761954/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6087500516859723396&amp;postID=3969050508402761954' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6087500516859723396/posts/default/3969050508402761954'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6087500516859723396/posts/default/3969050508402761954'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://deityanddouble.blogspot.com/2009/08/not-question.html' title='Not the Question'/><author><name>d. breeden</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13190022994900518555</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_HVL3aXrFRuk/Se8u-eMIRWI/AAAAAAAAACs/iwOiEpc4QQM/S220/006.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6087500516859723396.post-6172589407575424798</id><published>2009-08-19T09:05:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2009-08-19T09:05:57.913-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Proud of Me</title><content type='html'>The dinosaur book&lt;br /&gt;I brought home to&lt;br /&gt;Show I could read&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And I did read but&lt;br /&gt;Faked some words&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And so found&lt;br /&gt;My mother &lt;br /&gt;So proud of me&lt;br /&gt;Proud of me&lt;br /&gt;Could not read&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You been readin’&lt;br /&gt;That there big &lt;br /&gt;Thick book? she’d say&lt;br /&gt;Over the years&lt;br /&gt;So proud of me&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yes, mother, yes&lt;br /&gt;I’ve been reading&lt;br /&gt;That big ol’ thick book&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6087500516859723396-6172589407575424798?l=deityanddouble.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://deityanddouble.blogspot.com/feeds/6172589407575424798/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6087500516859723396&amp;postID=6172589407575424798' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6087500516859723396/posts/default/6172589407575424798'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6087500516859723396/posts/default/6172589407575424798'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://deityanddouble.blogspot.com/2009/08/proud-of-me.html' title='Proud of Me'/><author><name>d. breeden</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13190022994900518555</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_HVL3aXrFRuk/Se8u-eMIRWI/AAAAAAAAACs/iwOiEpc4QQM/S220/006.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6087500516859723396.post-2757773444932072010</id><published>2009-08-04T00:10:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2009-08-04T00:10:25.494-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Walking Into</title><content type='html'>I walk in purple clover&lt;br /&gt;Away from the task at hand&lt;br /&gt;Which is—as usual—&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sorting the past into&lt;br /&gt;What to burn&lt;br /&gt;And what to box&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I walk in poison ivy&lt;br /&gt;With the task at hand&lt;br /&gt;Which is—as usual—&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What to trash&lt;br /&gt;And what to crate&lt;br /&gt;Into tomorrow&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I walk in sunlight&lt;br /&gt;Into the task at hand&lt;br /&gt;Which is—as usual—&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The only direction&lt;br /&gt;Purple clover and poison ivy&lt;br /&gt;Which is sunlight&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6087500516859723396-2757773444932072010?l=deityanddouble.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://deityanddouble.blogspot.com/feeds/2757773444932072010/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6087500516859723396&amp;postID=2757773444932072010' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6087500516859723396/posts/default/2757773444932072010'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6087500516859723396/posts/default/2757773444932072010'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://deityanddouble.blogspot.com/2009/08/walking-into.html' title='Walking Into'/><author><name>d. breeden</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13190022994900518555</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_HVL3aXrFRuk/Se8u-eMIRWI/AAAAAAAAACs/iwOiEpc4QQM/S220/006.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6087500516859723396.post-5555527863521936060</id><published>2009-07-25T10:01:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2009-07-25T10:02:28.406-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Plato He Saw</title><content type='html'>Plato he saw&lt;br /&gt;The mind as driver&lt;br /&gt;The mind as charioteer&lt;br /&gt;Holding the reins&lt;br /&gt;Of running horses&lt;br /&gt;Horses of desire&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Plato he thought&lt;br /&gt;The body can be reined&lt;br /&gt;And the mind in charge&lt;br /&gt;And the mind rational&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Plate he assumed &lt;br /&gt;The mind as charioteer&lt;br /&gt;Having not seen the movies&lt;br /&gt;Not even Cecil B&lt;br /&gt;But having seen the real&lt;br /&gt;Thing around&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Plato he thought&lt;br /&gt;The mind is charioteer&lt;br /&gt;Skilled and trainable&lt;br /&gt;Desire in harness&lt;br /&gt;Well broken&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Plato he assumed&lt;br /&gt;The mind can handle&lt;br /&gt;The starts and turns&lt;br /&gt;Reins firmly in fingers&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Plato he thought&lt;br /&gt;We are charioteers&lt;br /&gt;In charge&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6087500516859723396-5555527863521936060?l=deityanddouble.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://deityanddouble.blogspot.com/feeds/5555527863521936060/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6087500516859723396&amp;postID=5555527863521936060' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6087500516859723396/posts/default/5555527863521936060'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6087500516859723396/posts/default/5555527863521936060'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://deityanddouble.blogspot.com/2009/07/plato-he-saw.html' title='Plato He Saw'/><author><name>d. breeden</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13190022994900518555</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_HVL3aXrFRuk/Se8u-eMIRWI/AAAAAAAAACs/iwOiEpc4QQM/S220/006.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6087500516859723396.post-211820621374582326</id><published>2009-07-17T08:37:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2009-07-17T08:38:03.049-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Ozzy Mandy Who?</title><content type='html'>The founding fathers&lt;br /&gt;Lie by the mothers&lt;br /&gt;So important then&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The first here&lt;br /&gt;The first there&lt;br /&gt;The biggest, only, and best&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If only you remembered&lt;br /&gt;The old stones sigh&lt;br /&gt;You would be impressed&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6087500516859723396-211820621374582326?l=deityanddouble.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://deityanddouble.blogspot.com/feeds/211820621374582326/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6087500516859723396&amp;postID=211820621374582326' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6087500516859723396/posts/default/211820621374582326'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6087500516859723396/posts/default/211820621374582326'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://deityanddouble.blogspot.com/2009/07/ozzy-mandy-who.html' title='Ozzy Mandy Who?'/><author><name>d. breeden</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13190022994900518555</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_HVL3aXrFRuk/Se8u-eMIRWI/AAAAAAAAACs/iwOiEpc4QQM/S220/006.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6087500516859723396.post-8103055279748262704</id><published>2009-07-07T09:50:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2009-07-07T09:50:56.162-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Knowledge of the Gods</title><content type='html'>Now that we know the weather&lt;br /&gt;Doesn’t dim at heartache&lt;br /&gt;Doesn’t change for murder&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now that we know the weather&lt;br /&gt;Doesn’t mirror our hate&lt;br /&gt;We know too much to vindicate&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now that we know the weather&lt;br /&gt;Doesn’t dim at heartache&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now that we know&lt;br /&gt;We know&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6087500516859723396-8103055279748262704?l=deityanddouble.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://deityanddouble.blogspot.com/feeds/8103055279748262704/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6087500516859723396&amp;postID=8103055279748262704' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6087500516859723396/posts/default/8103055279748262704'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6087500516859723396/posts/default/8103055279748262704'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://deityanddouble.blogspot.com/2009/07/knowledge-of-gods.html' title='Knowledge of the Gods'/><author><name>d. breeden</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13190022994900518555</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_HVL3aXrFRuk/Se8u-eMIRWI/AAAAAAAAACs/iwOiEpc4QQM/S220/006.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6087500516859723396.post-1910933173365849119</id><published>2009-06-21T11:21:00.005-05:00</published><updated>2009-06-21T11:30:59.227-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='theology unitarian universalist'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='daedelus'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='mythology'/><title type='text'>Daedalus the Past</title><content type='html'>Sure, a person or two&lt;br /&gt;Have met bad ends&lt;br /&gt;For knowing you&lt;br /&gt;Sure, there's that&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Strangeness about&lt;br /&gt;Your kid, withdrawn&lt;br /&gt;Bumbling, afraid&lt;br /&gt;that bespeaks bad&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Upbring, sure&lt;br /&gt;No one knows where&lt;br /&gt;Your wife went, sure&lt;br /&gt;Your nephew fell&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oddly from a height&lt;br /&gt;Still, you've got&lt;br /&gt;The touch, don't you?&lt;br /&gt;Despite the murders&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You've got the touch&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6087500516859723396-1910933173365849119?l=deityanddouble.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://deityanddouble.blogspot.com/feeds/1910933173365849119/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6087500516859723396&amp;postID=1910933173365849119' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6087500516859723396/posts/default/1910933173365849119'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6087500516859723396/posts/default/1910933173365849119'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://deityanddouble.blogspot.com/2009/06/daeduls-past.html' title='Daedalus the Past'/><author><name>d. breeden</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13190022994900518555</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_HVL3aXrFRuk/Se8u-eMIRWI/AAAAAAAAACs/iwOiEpc4QQM/S220/006.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6087500516859723396.post-5740982659034238784</id><published>2009-06-12T08:41:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2009-06-12T08:42:23.515-05:00</updated><title type='text'>The Snake, The Soul, The Infant</title><content type='html'>Three sounds no one hears&lt;br /&gt;The rabbi said—the snake&lt;br /&gt;Shedding its skin; the soul&lt;br /&gt;Leaving the body; and birth&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Change is silent&lt;br /&gt;Surrender keeps to itself&lt;br /&gt;Starting anew does not boast&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Silences that sink into earth&lt;br /&gt;Awakened only in the mind&lt;br /&gt;Echoes of yes and yes and yes&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6087500516859723396-5740982659034238784?l=deityanddouble.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://deityanddouble.blogspot.com/feeds/5740982659034238784/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6087500516859723396&amp;postID=5740982659034238784' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6087500516859723396/posts/default/5740982659034238784'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6087500516859723396/posts/default/5740982659034238784'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://deityanddouble.blogspot.com/2009/06/snake-soul-infant.html' title='The Snake, The Soul, The Infant'/><author><name>d. breeden</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13190022994900518555</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_HVL3aXrFRuk/Se8u-eMIRWI/AAAAAAAAACs/iwOiEpc4QQM/S220/006.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6087500516859723396.post-1235580010464818613</id><published>2009-06-08T11:20:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2009-06-08T11:20:49.323-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Holy, Holy</title><content type='html'>Convenient that spot&lt;br /&gt;Solomon, Abraham&lt;br /&gt;Jesus, Mohammed,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And such all&lt;br /&gt;All the same spot&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Arc of the Covenant&lt;br /&gt;Deep hidden things&lt;br /&gt;Conspiracies and such&lt;br /&gt;Holy, holy grail&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In the desert&lt;br /&gt;In the desert&lt;br /&gt;Beyond the sea&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Convenient that spot&lt;br /&gt;Knights Templar&lt;br /&gt;Solomon, Masons&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And such all&lt;br /&gt;All the same spot&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hidden lineages&lt;br /&gt;Conspiracies and such&lt;br /&gt;Holy, holy grail&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Convenient, that spot&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6087500516859723396-1235580010464818613?l=deityanddouble.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://deityanddouble.blogspot.com/feeds/1235580010464818613/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6087500516859723396&amp;postID=1235580010464818613' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6087500516859723396/posts/default/1235580010464818613'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6087500516859723396/posts/default/1235580010464818613'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://deityanddouble.blogspot.com/2009/06/holy-holy.html' title='Holy, Holy'/><author><name>d. breeden</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13190022994900518555</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_HVL3aXrFRuk/Se8u-eMIRWI/AAAAAAAAACs/iwOiEpc4QQM/S220/006.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6087500516859723396.post-6186643602990879580</id><published>2009-05-28T08:26:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2009-05-28T08:28:08.942-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Clearing the Way</title><content type='html'>Sad a road&lt;br /&gt;That leads behind&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A house and&lt;br /&gt;The house gone&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sad a wile&lt;br /&gt;An intention exposed&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sad an old chimney&lt;br /&gt;Falling to stones&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sad a branch budding&lt;br /&gt;Green smashed down&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sad the loss&lt;br /&gt;Slower in showing&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Blue sky&lt;br /&gt;Bird song&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sad the room for renewal&lt;br /&gt;Food cooking&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A fire far off&lt;br /&gt;Clearing the way&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6087500516859723396-6186643602990879580?l=deityanddouble.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://deityanddouble.blogspot.com/feeds/6186643602990879580/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6087500516859723396&amp;postID=6186643602990879580' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6087500516859723396/posts/default/6186643602990879580'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6087500516859723396/posts/default/6186643602990879580'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://deityanddouble.blogspot.com/2009/05/clearing-way.html' title='Clearing the Way'/><author><name>d. breeden</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13190022994900518555</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_HVL3aXrFRuk/Se8u-eMIRWI/AAAAAAAAACs/iwOiEpc4QQM/S220/006.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6087500516859723396.post-438678631705331510</id><published>2009-05-13T20:26:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2009-05-13T20:28:08.790-05:00</updated><title type='text'>More Rich in Hope</title><content type='html'>I see that you’re dead&lt;br /&gt;In the alum news&lt;br /&gt;Dear poet, so beautiful&lt;br /&gt;So rich, such daffodil&lt;br /&gt;In your youth, so perfect&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That envy wasn’t the word&lt;br /&gt;(I scoffed at the titles&lt;br /&gt;Of your poems—you&lt;br /&gt;Were that good) envy&lt;br /&gt;Wasn’t the word—desire&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Desiring your art&lt;br /&gt;Your scope, your beauty&lt;br /&gt;And you dead now&lt;br /&gt;By your own hand (your&lt;br /&gt;Only clichéd image)&lt;br /&gt;A flower cut back into&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Brown, your own hand&lt;br /&gt;Your own madness&lt;br /&gt;Dear poet, so beautiful&lt;br /&gt;That envy wasn’t the word&lt;br /&gt;All your own always&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6087500516859723396-438678631705331510?l=deityanddouble.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://deityanddouble.blogspot.com/feeds/438678631705331510/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6087500516859723396&amp;postID=438678631705331510' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6087500516859723396/posts/default/438678631705331510'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6087500516859723396/posts/default/438678631705331510'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://deityanddouble.blogspot.com/2009/05/more-rich-in-hope.html' title='More Rich in Hope'/><author><name>d. breeden</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13190022994900518555</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_HVL3aXrFRuk/Se8u-eMIRWI/AAAAAAAAACs/iwOiEpc4QQM/S220/006.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6087500516859723396.post-3401956846811924855</id><published>2009-05-06T09:09:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2009-05-06T09:09:43.874-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Falling</title><content type='html'>This is just about&lt;br /&gt;The spot you fell&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Approximately&lt;br /&gt;You understand&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Just about here&lt;br /&gt;No, you wouldn’t&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Remember, that’s&lt;br /&gt;The thing about&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Falling like that&lt;br /&gt;You don’t&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Remember the&lt;br /&gt;Spot you fell, not&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After you fall on&lt;br /&gt;The black ice&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The path forgotten&lt;br /&gt;That’s the thing&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;About falling&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6087500516859723396-3401956846811924855?l=deityanddouble.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://deityanddouble.blogspot.com/feeds/3401956846811924855/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6087500516859723396&amp;postID=3401956846811924855' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6087500516859723396/posts/default/3401956846811924855'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6087500516859723396/posts/default/3401956846811924855'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://deityanddouble.blogspot.com/2009/05/falling.html' title='Falling'/><author><name>d. breeden</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13190022994900518555</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_HVL3aXrFRuk/Se8u-eMIRWI/AAAAAAAAACs/iwOiEpc4QQM/S220/006.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6087500516859723396.post-2554758349522246749</id><published>2009-04-22T09:52:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2009-04-22T09:53:05.669-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Conceptual Mummies</title><content type='html'>Nietzsche called them&lt;br /&gt;Conceptual mummies&lt;br /&gt;Those leathery corpses&lt;br /&gt;Wrapped in linen bands&lt;br /&gt;That tell us change&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That tell us chaos&lt;br /&gt;Has a direction&lt;br /&gt;Has a highway to somewhere&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Conceptual mummies&lt;br /&gt;Those dead things wrapped&lt;br /&gt;In hopes that chaos&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Isn’t so general as it looks&lt;br /&gt;Conceptual mummies&lt;br /&gt;Nietzsche scorned them&lt;br /&gt;Keeping all the while&lt;br /&gt;As many propped&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In corners himself&lt;br /&gt;Conceptual mummies&lt;br /&gt;The stays against&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Not staying, chaos&lt;br /&gt;Conceptual mummies&lt;br /&gt;These things not things&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6087500516859723396-2554758349522246749?l=deityanddouble.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://deityanddouble.blogspot.com/feeds/2554758349522246749/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6087500516859723396&amp;postID=2554758349522246749' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6087500516859723396/posts/default/2554758349522246749'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6087500516859723396/posts/default/2554758349522246749'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://deityanddouble.blogspot.com/2009/04/conceptual-mummies.html' title='Conceptual Mummies'/><author><name>d. breeden</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13190022994900518555</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_HVL3aXrFRuk/Se8u-eMIRWI/AAAAAAAAACs/iwOiEpc4QQM/S220/006.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6087500516859723396.post-302246981410870433</id><published>2009-04-16T12:45:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2009-04-16T12:47:07.062-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Bees in the Wind</title><content type='html'>Bees mad for plum blossoms&lt;br /&gt;Fight the cut&lt;br /&gt;Of early spring breeze&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Their humming a pulse&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Like coffee percolating&lt;br /&gt;Far away in another kitchen&lt;br /&gt;Another home never home&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6087500516859723396-302246981410870433?l=deityanddouble.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://deityanddouble.blogspot.com/feeds/302246981410870433/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6087500516859723396&amp;postID=302246981410870433' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6087500516859723396/posts/default/302246981410870433'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6087500516859723396/posts/default/302246981410870433'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://deityanddouble.blogspot.com/2009/04/bees-in-wind.html' title='Bees in the Wind'/><author><name>d. breeden</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13190022994900518555</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_HVL3aXrFRuk/Se8u-eMIRWI/AAAAAAAAACs/iwOiEpc4QQM/S220/006.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6087500516859723396.post-4785082806299145115</id><published>2009-04-10T08:38:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2009-04-10T08:39:45.539-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Palm Sunday, Sunrise</title><content type='html'>Black cat wanders to the center&lt;br /&gt;Of a gravel road, sniffing&lt;br /&gt;At a flattened carcass&lt;br /&gt;The meat long gone&lt;br /&gt;Only a hank of fur&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It is Palm Sunday, sunrise&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And all around churches&lt;br /&gt;In the dim half-light&lt;br /&gt;Lie palms prepared&lt;br /&gt;In their stillness, waiting&lt;br /&gt;To recreate the old story of mobs&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6087500516859723396-4785082806299145115?l=deityanddouble.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://deityanddouble.blogspot.com/feeds/4785082806299145115/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6087500516859723396&amp;postID=4785082806299145115' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6087500516859723396/posts/default/4785082806299145115'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6087500516859723396/posts/default/4785082806299145115'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://deityanddouble.blogspot.com/2009/04/palm-sunday-sunrise.html' title='Palm Sunday, Sunrise'/><author><name>d. breeden</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13190022994900518555</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_HVL3aXrFRuk/Se8u-eMIRWI/AAAAAAAAACs/iwOiEpc4QQM/S220/006.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6087500516859723396.post-2058630937481368769</id><published>2009-04-02T00:30:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2009-04-02T00:34:11.584-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Naming the Demons</title><content type='html'>Old bridge, steel&lt;br /&gt;Propped on concrete&lt;br /&gt;Rusted steel, yellowed concrete&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I remember hard rain&lt;br /&gt;On a line of automobiles&lt;br /&gt;Slowly crossing the bridge&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The river slowly&lt;br /&gt;As it will, the Wabash&lt;br /&gt;So long ago&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The cars antique or disappeared&lt;br /&gt;So long ago&lt;br /&gt;The suffering I remember&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6087500516859723396-2058630937481368769?l=deityanddouble.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://deityanddouble.blogspot.com/feeds/2058630937481368769/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6087500516859723396&amp;postID=2058630937481368769' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6087500516859723396/posts/default/2058630937481368769'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6087500516859723396/posts/default/2058630937481368769'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://deityanddouble.blogspot.com/2009/04/naming-demons.html' title='Naming the Demons'/><author><name>d. breeden</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13190022994900518555</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_HVL3aXrFRuk/Se8u-eMIRWI/AAAAAAAAACs/iwOiEpc4QQM/S220/006.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6087500516859723396.post-556790650900161089</id><published>2009-03-26T22:02:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2009-03-26T22:07:24.670-05:00</updated><title type='text'>I Have Eaten the Fruit</title><content type='html'>In the wilderness of words&lt;br /&gt;Baudelaire’s hideout&lt;br /&gt;Mallarme’s lair&lt;br /&gt;It is the symbolic order&lt;br /&gt;That is the forest for the trees&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It is the language, unrealized&lt;br /&gt;Waiting for a book&lt;br /&gt;Indicating nothing&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In the trees of the word&lt;br /&gt;Mallarme’s bee buzzes&lt;br /&gt;A basket of symbol&lt;br /&gt;A picnic of signified&lt;br /&gt;And only a dream of lace&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In the forest of the word&lt;br /&gt;Somewhere is Baudelaire’s dream&lt;br /&gt;Bad flowers, frightened wine&lt;br /&gt;The Palace of the Real&lt;br /&gt;With pillars named&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All named, each referring&lt;br /&gt;Only to itself&lt;br /&gt;Where meaning stops&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6087500516859723396-556790650900161089?l=deityanddouble.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://deityanddouble.blogspot.com/feeds/556790650900161089/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6087500516859723396&amp;postID=556790650900161089' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6087500516859723396/posts/default/556790650900161089'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6087500516859723396/posts/default/556790650900161089'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://deityanddouble.blogspot.com/2009/03/i-have-eaten-fruit.html' title='I Have Eaten the Fruit'/><author><name>d. breeden</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13190022994900518555</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_HVL3aXrFRuk/Se8u-eMIRWI/AAAAAAAAACs/iwOiEpc4QQM/S220/006.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6087500516859723396.post-8634143132879001164</id><published>2009-03-20T09:28:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2009-03-20T09:28:26.926-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Nostalgia Face</title><content type='html'>I walk into an indie&lt;br /&gt;Bookstore and what&lt;br /&gt;Do I see but a book&lt;br /&gt;By Ted Berrigan&lt;br /&gt;Old teacher, old master&lt;br /&gt;Who kindly read my poems&lt;br /&gt;When I was a kid&lt;br /&gt;Shyly handed—“Would&lt;br /&gt;You look at these, sir?”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Sure, sure!” he&lt;br /&gt;Puffed, always&lt;br /&gt;Out of breath&lt;br /&gt;Always exhausted&lt;br /&gt;Barely carrying weight that&lt;br /&gt;Would crush him&lt;br /&gt;“An honor, an honor”&lt;br /&gt;He puffed, headed&lt;br /&gt;For a cigarette—&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“That man, that man”&lt;br /&gt;Another poet said&lt;br /&gt;“That man’s poems&lt;br /&gt;Should be in every&lt;br /&gt;Motel room” and here&lt;br /&gt;It is—years gone&lt;br /&gt;And Berrigan long dead&lt;br /&gt;At least somewhere&lt;br /&gt;A master’s poems&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6087500516859723396-8634143132879001164?l=deityanddouble.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://deityanddouble.blogspot.com/feeds/8634143132879001164/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6087500516859723396&amp;postID=8634143132879001164' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6087500516859723396/posts/default/8634143132879001164'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6087500516859723396/posts/default/8634143132879001164'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://deityanddouble.blogspot.com/2009/03/nostalgia-face.html' title='Nostalgia Face'/><author><name>d. breeden</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13190022994900518555</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_HVL3aXrFRuk/Se8u-eMIRWI/AAAAAAAAACs/iwOiEpc4QQM/S220/006.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6087500516859723396.post-5595597689521214826</id><published>2009-03-12T08:28:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2009-03-12T08:28:48.752-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Saint Troubadour Got</title><content type='html'>In 1224&lt;br /&gt;In 1224&lt;br /&gt;Francis got&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Francis got&lt;br /&gt;The stigmata&lt;br /&gt;Stigmata, poetry&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Birds and Jesus&lt;br /&gt;With a human&lt;br /&gt;Face &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Francis got&lt;br /&gt;Francis got&lt;br /&gt;The human&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And divine&lt;br /&gt;Verses and more&lt;br /&gt;Verses, got&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Life and vision&lt;br /&gt;Vision and fresh&lt;br /&gt;Sight, born again&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6087500516859723396-5595597689521214826?l=deityanddouble.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://deityanddouble.blogspot.com/feeds/5595597689521214826/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6087500516859723396&amp;postID=5595597689521214826' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6087500516859723396/posts/default/5595597689521214826'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6087500516859723396/posts/default/5595597689521214826'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://deityanddouble.blogspot.com/2009/03/saint-troubadour-got.html' title='Saint Troubadour Got'/><author><name>d. breeden</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13190022994900518555</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_HVL3aXrFRuk/Se8u-eMIRWI/AAAAAAAAACs/iwOiEpc4QQM/S220/006.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6087500516859723396.post-94226525101914433</id><published>2009-03-05T08:21:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2009-03-05T08:22:27.576-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Walls Unrooted</title><content type='html'>Cratylus pressed&lt;br /&gt;On the names of things&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Saw a wall&lt;br /&gt;For a wall&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And thought the word&lt;br /&gt;Hard enough&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And trimmed&lt;br /&gt;To the object&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Because the world&lt;br /&gt;Was rooted so&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Just asking”&lt;br /&gt;Socrates said&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6087500516859723396-94226525101914433?l=deityanddouble.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://deityanddouble.blogspot.com/feeds/94226525101914433/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6087500516859723396&amp;postID=94226525101914433' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6087500516859723396/posts/default/94226525101914433'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6087500516859723396/posts/default/94226525101914433'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://deityanddouble.blogspot.com/2009/03/walls-unrooted.html' title='Walls Unrooted'/><author><name>d. breeden</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13190022994900518555</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_HVL3aXrFRuk/Se8u-eMIRWI/AAAAAAAAACs/iwOiEpc4QQM/S220/006.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6087500516859723396.post-1810798168908471421</id><published>2009-02-26T09:08:00.001-06:00</published><updated>2009-02-26T09:08:50.238-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Timely Flagellation at the Museum</title><content type='html'>Every hour on the hour&lt;br /&gt;A golden Christ gets&lt;br /&gt;What no one deserves&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Which is to say lashed&lt;br /&gt;With wires by golden men&lt;br /&gt;Christ the center&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Of a golden table clock&lt;br /&gt;Every hour on the hour&lt;br /&gt;Since 1625&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That’s how good&lt;br /&gt;The mechanism is&lt;br /&gt;Says the sign&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Augsburg, Germany&lt;br /&gt;And engineering to last&lt;br /&gt;Every hour on the hour&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Century after century&lt;br /&gt;Christ getting&lt;br /&gt;What no one deserves&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And at every lash&lt;br /&gt;At every hour the question&lt;br /&gt;Why, why, why&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6087500516859723396-1810798168908471421?l=deityanddouble.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://deityanddouble.blogspot.com/feeds/1810798168908471421/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6087500516859723396&amp;postID=1810798168908471421' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6087500516859723396/posts/default/1810798168908471421'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6087500516859723396/posts/default/1810798168908471421'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://deityanddouble.blogspot.com/2009/02/timely-flagellation-at-museum.html' title='Timely Flagellation at the Museum'/><author><name>d. breeden</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13190022994900518555</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_HVL3aXrFRuk/Se8u-eMIRWI/AAAAAAAAACs/iwOiEpc4QQM/S220/006.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6087500516859723396.post-2789627166965328580</id><published>2009-02-20T08:57:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2009-02-20T08:58:19.154-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Heart Sutra at the Coffee Shop</title><content type='html'>A woman waits&lt;br /&gt;To talk with her ex&lt;br /&gt;As I read&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No ignorance and&lt;br /&gt;No extinction&lt;br /&gt;Of ignorance&lt;br /&gt;The Heart Sutra says&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And I see an intersection&lt;br /&gt;Gravel and mud&lt;br /&gt;With a stop sign&lt;br /&gt;Never heeded&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There is no learning&lt;br /&gt;Might I add?&lt;br /&gt;And no end of learning&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There is “no”&lt;br /&gt;Might I add?&lt;br /&gt;And “yes” and a person&lt;br /&gt;Moved to tears watching&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Motion and no motion&lt;br /&gt;Out a window&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She puts on her coat&lt;br /&gt;As the man stares after&lt;br /&gt;There is this&lt;br /&gt;And not this at all&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6087500516859723396-2789627166965328580?l=deityanddouble.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://deityanddouble.blogspot.com/feeds/2789627166965328580/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6087500516859723396&amp;postID=2789627166965328580' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6087500516859723396/posts/default/2789627166965328580'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6087500516859723396/posts/default/2789627166965328580'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://deityanddouble.blogspot.com/2009/02/heart-sutra-at-coffee-shop.html' title='Heart Sutra at the Coffee Shop'/><author><name>d. breeden</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13190022994900518555</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_HVL3aXrFRuk/Se8u-eMIRWI/AAAAAAAAACs/iwOiEpc4QQM/S220/006.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6087500516859723396.post-2050038483945467937</id><published>2009-02-12T15:11:00.001-06:00</published><updated>2009-02-12T15:11:35.439-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Heat in the Meta-Narrative</title><content type='html'>Water freed&lt;br /&gt;(to run) dark&lt;br /&gt;Pools in mud&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;From&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The snow that&lt;br /&gt;Held it bound&lt;br /&gt;White and still&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6087500516859723396-2050038483945467937?l=deityanddouble.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://deityanddouble.blogspot.com/feeds/2050038483945467937/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6087500516859723396&amp;postID=2050038483945467937' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6087500516859723396/posts/default/2050038483945467937'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6087500516859723396/posts/default/2050038483945467937'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://deityanddouble.blogspot.com/2009/02/heat-in-meta-narrative.html' title='Heat in the Meta-Narrative'/><author><name>d. breeden</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13190022994900518555</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_HVL3aXrFRuk/Se8u-eMIRWI/AAAAAAAAACs/iwOiEpc4QQM/S220/006.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6087500516859723396.post-8210529084187218264</id><published>2009-02-06T08:18:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2009-02-06T08:21:38.258-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Rhetorical Questions at the Gas Station</title><content type='html'>&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:&amp;quot;Calibri&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;sans-serif&amp;quot;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:&amp;quot;Calibri&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;sans-serif&amp;quot;"&gt;Is the divine then&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:&amp;quot;Calibri&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;sans-serif&amp;quot;"&gt;In the gray snow bank&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:&amp;quot;Calibri&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;sans-serif&amp;quot;"&gt;In the dead weeds&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:&amp;quot;Calibri&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;sans-serif&amp;quot;"&gt;Of the railroad side?&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:&amp;quot;Calibri&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;sans-serif&amp;quot;"&gt;Rhetorical question&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:&amp;quot;Calibri&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;sans-serif&amp;quot;"&gt;Rhetorical question&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:&amp;quot;Calibri&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;sans-serif&amp;quot;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:&amp;quot;Calibri&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;sans-serif&amp;quot;"&gt;In the questioning face&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:&amp;quot;Calibri&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;sans-serif&amp;quot;"&gt;Of the poor man&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:&amp;quot;Calibri&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;sans-serif&amp;quot;"&gt;Hands in his pockets&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:&amp;quot;Calibri&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;sans-serif&amp;quot;"&gt;Hunched against the cold&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:&amp;quot;Calibri&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;sans-serif&amp;quot;"&gt;Hunched against the cold?&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:&amp;quot;Calibri&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;sans-serif&amp;quot;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:&amp;quot;Calibri&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;sans-serif&amp;quot;"&gt;Rhetorical question&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:&amp;quot;Calibri&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;sans-serif&amp;quot;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:&amp;quot;Calibri&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;sans-serif&amp;quot;"&gt;Soul knows the cold&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:&amp;quot;Calibri&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;sans-serif&amp;quot;"&gt;Soul knows the seasons&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:&amp;quot;Calibri&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;sans-serif&amp;quot;"&gt;Soul knows the questions&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:&amp;quot;Calibri&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;sans-serif&amp;quot;"&gt;Soul knows the rhetoric&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:&amp;quot;Calibri&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;sans-serif&amp;quot;"&gt;That gnaws itself away&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:&amp;quot;Calibri&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;sans-serif&amp;quot;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:&amp;quot;Calibri&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;sans-serif&amp;quot;"&gt;Rhetorical question&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:&amp;quot;Calibri&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;sans-serif&amp;quot;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:&amp;quot;Calibri&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;sans-serif&amp;quot;"&gt;Old snow&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:&amp;quot;Calibri&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;sans-serif&amp;quot;"&gt;Dead weeds&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:&amp;quot;Calibri&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;sans-serif&amp;quot;"&gt;Poor man&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:&amp;quot;Calibri&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;sans-serif&amp;quot;"&gt;No fences&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:&amp;quot;Calibri&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;sans-serif&amp;quot;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:&amp;quot;Calibri&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;sans-serif&amp;quot;"&gt;No question&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:&amp;quot;Calibri&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;sans-serif&amp;quot;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:&amp;quot;Calibri&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;sans-serif&amp;quot;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:&amp;quot;Calibri&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;sans-serif&amp;quot;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;span style="font-size:12.0pt;font-family:&amp;quot;Calibri&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;sans-serif&amp;quot;;mso-fareast-font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;;mso-bidi-font-family:&amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;;mso-ansi-language: EN-US;mso-fareast-language:EN-US;mso-bidi-language:AR-SA"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6087500516859723396-8210529084187218264?l=deityanddouble.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://deityanddouble.blogspot.com/feeds/8210529084187218264/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6087500516859723396&amp;postID=8210529084187218264' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6087500516859723396/posts/default/8210529084187218264'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6087500516859723396/posts/default/8210529084187218264'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://deityanddouble.blogspot.com/2009/02/rhetorical-questions-at-gas-station.html' title='Rhetorical Questions at the Gas Station'/><author><name>d. breeden</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13190022994900518555</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_HVL3aXrFRuk/Se8u-eMIRWI/AAAAAAAAACs/iwOiEpc4QQM/S220/006.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6087500516859723396.post-1406159315611874081</id><published>2009-01-29T07:03:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2009-01-29T07:04:25.495-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Crushed in Doing</title><content type='html'>This angel, angel of self&lt;br /&gt;Freed from should&lt;br /&gt;Is the angel&lt;br /&gt;We must create&lt;br /&gt;In each other&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It is our right&lt;br /&gt;Kant told&lt;br /&gt;Not to be&lt;br /&gt;A means&lt;br /&gt;To an end&lt;br /&gt;Not used&lt;br /&gt;Outside&lt;br /&gt;Our wills&lt;br /&gt;It is this angel&lt;br /&gt;We must be&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6087500516859723396-1406159315611874081?l=deityanddouble.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://deityanddouble.blogspot.com/feeds/1406159315611874081/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6087500516859723396&amp;postID=1406159315611874081' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6087500516859723396/posts/default/1406159315611874081'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6087500516859723396/posts/default/1406159315611874081'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://deityanddouble.blogspot.com/2009/01/crushed-in-doing.html' title='Crushed in Doing'/><author><name>d. breeden</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13190022994900518555</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_HVL3aXrFRuk/Se8u-eMIRWI/AAAAAAAAACs/iwOiEpc4QQM/S220/006.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6087500516859723396.post-130405418655535505</id><published>2009-01-21T08:26:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2009-01-21T08:26:56.272-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Kept Simple</title><content type='html'>&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Calibri; "&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:&amp;quot;Calibri&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;sans-serif&amp;quot;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:&amp;quot;Calibri&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;sans-serif&amp;quot;"&gt;The gentle dust&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:&amp;quot;Calibri&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;sans-serif&amp;quot;"&gt;All around so&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:&amp;quot;Calibri&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;sans-serif&amp;quot;"&gt;Troubled as plant&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:&amp;quot;Calibri&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;sans-serif&amp;quot;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:&amp;quot;Calibri&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;sans-serif&amp;quot;"&gt;As animal&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:&amp;quot;Calibri&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;sans-serif&amp;quot;"&gt;As human&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:&amp;quot;Calibri&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;sans-serif&amp;quot;"&gt;The gentle inert&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:&amp;quot;Calibri&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;sans-serif&amp;quot;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:&amp;quot;Calibri&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;sans-serif&amp;quot;"&gt;That we come to &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:&amp;quot;Calibri&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;sans-serif&amp;quot;"&gt;Willy-nilly at last&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:&amp;quot;Calibri&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;sans-serif&amp;quot;"&gt;Heart of death&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:&amp;quot;Calibri&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;sans-serif&amp;quot;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:&amp;quot;Calibri&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;sans-serif&amp;quot;"&gt;Heart of life&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:&amp;quot;Calibri&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;sans-serif&amp;quot;"&gt;Gentle sleep&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:&amp;quot;Calibri&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;sans-serif&amp;quot;"&gt;Gentle wake&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:&amp;quot;Calibri&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;sans-serif&amp;quot;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;span style="font-size:12.0pt;font-family:&amp;quot;Calibri&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;sans-serif&amp;quot;;mso-fareast-font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;;mso-bidi-font-family:&amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;;mso-ansi-language: EN-US;mso-fareast-language:EN-US;mso-bidi-language:AR-SA"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6087500516859723396-130405418655535505?l=deityanddouble.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://deityanddouble.blogspot.com/feeds/130405418655535505/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6087500516859723396&amp;postID=130405418655535505' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6087500516859723396/posts/default/130405418655535505'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6087500516859723396/posts/default/130405418655535505'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://deityanddouble.blogspot.com/2009/01/kept-simple.html' title='Kept Simple'/><author><name>d. breeden</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13190022994900518555</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_HVL3aXrFRuk/Se8u-eMIRWI/AAAAAAAAACs/iwOiEpc4QQM/S220/006.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6087500516859723396.post-5275905859976339859</id><published>2009-01-14T07:33:00.001-06:00</published><updated>2009-01-14T07:35:11.315-06:00</updated><title type='text'>It Hurts to Find</title><content type='html'>&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="Calibri&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;sans-serif&amp;quot;font-family:&amp;quot;;"&gt;It hurts to find the gods&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="Calibri&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;sans-serif&amp;quot;font-family:&amp;quot;;"&gt;Aren’t to blame for&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="Calibri&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;sans-serif&amp;quot;font-family:&amp;quot;;"&gt;The ills of the earth&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="Calibri&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;sans-serif&amp;quot;font-family:&amp;quot;;"&gt;The hurts of the city&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="Calibri&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;sans-serif&amp;quot;font-family:&amp;quot;;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="Calibri&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;sans-serif&amp;quot;font-family:&amp;quot;;"&gt;It hurts to find&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="Calibri&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;sans-serif&amp;quot;font-family:&amp;quot;;"&gt;It’s little ‘ol us&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="Calibri&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;sans-serif&amp;quot;font-family:&amp;quot;;"&gt;Who did the big stuff&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="Calibri&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;sans-serif&amp;quot;font-family:&amp;quot;;"&gt;That brought the pain&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="Calibri&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;sans-serif&amp;quot;font-family:&amp;quot;;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="Calibri&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;sans-serif&amp;quot;font-family:&amp;quot;;"&gt;Bad harvests&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="Calibri&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;sans-serif&amp;quot;font-family:&amp;quot;;"&gt;Bad weather&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="Calibri&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;sans-serif&amp;quot;font-family:&amp;quot;;"&gt;Bad streets&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="Calibri&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;sans-serif&amp;quot;font-family:&amp;quot;;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="Calibri&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;sans-serif&amp;quot;font-family:&amp;quot;;"&gt;It hurts to find ourselves &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="Calibri&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;sans-serif&amp;quot;font-family:&amp;quot;;"&gt;To blame for what &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="Calibri&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;sans-serif&amp;quot;font-family:&amp;quot;;"&gt;We wanted to name &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="Calibri&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;sans-serif&amp;quot;font-family:&amp;quot;;"&gt;Inscrutable if only&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="Calibri&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;sans-serif&amp;quot;font-family:&amp;quot;;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="Calibri&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;sans-serif&amp;quot;font-family:&amp;quot;;"&gt;The gods were to blame&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6087500516859723396-5275905859976339859?l=deityanddouble.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://deityanddouble.blogspot.com/feeds/5275905859976339859/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6087500516859723396&amp;postID=5275905859976339859' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6087500516859723396/posts/default/5275905859976339859'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6087500516859723396/posts/default/5275905859976339859'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://deityanddouble.blogspot.com/2009/01/it-hurts-to-find_14.html' title='It Hurts to Find'/><author><name>d. breeden</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13190022994900518555</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_HVL3aXrFRuk/Se8u-eMIRWI/AAAAAAAAACs/iwOiEpc4QQM/S220/006.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6087500516859723396.post-8688713949606733742</id><published>2009-01-07T22:52:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2009-01-07T22:53:34.023-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Usable Packaging</title><content type='html'>Flames rise looking&lt;br /&gt;As wild as can be&lt;br /&gt;Wrapped in glass&lt;br /&gt;And fake stone&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That’s civilization, yes?&lt;br /&gt;Wrapping flame in&lt;br /&gt;Usable packages&lt;br /&gt;Wrapping people in&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Useable places, that’s&lt;br /&gt;Society, yes? Flame&lt;br /&gt;And human wrapped&lt;br /&gt;In proximity. . .  And&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Listen&lt;br /&gt;There&lt;br /&gt;That—&lt;br /&gt;Isn’t that music?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6087500516859723396-8688713949606733742?l=deityanddouble.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://deityanddouble.blogspot.com/feeds/8688713949606733742/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6087500516859723396&amp;postID=8688713949606733742' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6087500516859723396/posts/default/8688713949606733742'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6087500516859723396/posts/default/8688713949606733742'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://deityanddouble.blogspot.com/2009/01/usable-packaging.html' title='Usable Packaging'/><author><name>d. breeden</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13190022994900518555</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_HVL3aXrFRuk/Se8u-eMIRWI/AAAAAAAAACs/iwOiEpc4QQM/S220/006.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6087500516859723396.post-3491695430200502790</id><published>2008-12-31T10:44:00.001-06:00</published><updated>2008-12-31T10:46:13.675-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Pantoum: On Meditation</title><content type='html'>&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:&amp;quot;Calibri&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;sans-serif&amp;quot;"&gt;Getting back to now&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:&amp;quot;Calibri&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;sans-serif&amp;quot;"&gt;Out of obsession&lt;br /&gt;Back to this moment&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:&amp;quot;Calibri&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;sans-serif&amp;quot;"&gt;With its whistling wind&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:&amp;quot;Calibri&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;sans-serif&amp;quot;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Out of obsession&lt;br /&gt;Out of the mind’s noise&lt;br /&gt;With its whistling wind&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:&amp;quot;Calibri&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;sans-serif&amp;quot;"&gt;All in imagining&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:&amp;quot;Calibri&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;sans-serif&amp;quot;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:&amp;quot;Calibri&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;sans-serif&amp;quot;"&gt;Out of the mind’s noise&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:&amp;quot;Calibri&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;sans-serif&amp;quot;;mso-bidi-font-family: Arial"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Back to this moment&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:&amp;quot;Calibri&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;sans-serif&amp;quot;"&gt;All in imagining&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:&amp;quot;Calibri&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;sans-serif&amp;quot;;mso-bidi-font-family: Arial"&gt;Getting back to now &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6087500516859723396-3491695430200502790?l=deityanddouble.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://deityanddouble.blogspot.com/feeds/3491695430200502790/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6087500516859723396&amp;postID=3491695430200502790' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6087500516859723396/posts/default/3491695430200502790'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6087500516859723396/posts/default/3491695430200502790'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://deityanddouble.blogspot.com/2008/12/pantoum-on-meditation.html' title='Pantoum: On Meditation'/><author><name>d. breeden</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13190022994900518555</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_HVL3aXrFRuk/Se8u-eMIRWI/AAAAAAAAACs/iwOiEpc4QQM/S220/006.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6087500516859723396.post-3357128843153011364</id><published>2008-12-17T13:37:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2008-12-17T13:38:31.810-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Damage @ the Creche</title><content type='html'>angel upended&lt;br /&gt;by an arctic wind&lt;br /&gt;blows her horn&lt;br /&gt;into black ice&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;those wise magi&lt;br /&gt;must know of other&lt;br /&gt;cosmic calamities&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;but no doubt it was&lt;br /&gt;the vagaries of youth&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;that took the Christ child&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6087500516859723396-3357128843153011364?l=deityanddouble.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://deityanddouble.blogspot.com/feeds/3357128843153011364/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6087500516859723396&amp;postID=3357128843153011364' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6087500516859723396/posts/default/3357128843153011364'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6087500516859723396/posts/default/3357128843153011364'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://deityanddouble.blogspot.com/2008/12/damage-creche.html' title='Damage @ the Creche'/><author><name>d. breeden</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13190022994900518555</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_HVL3aXrFRuk/Se8u-eMIRWI/AAAAAAAAACs/iwOiEpc4QQM/S220/006.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6087500516859723396.post-6626959887601100332</id><published>2008-12-11T21:40:00.001-06:00</published><updated>2008-12-11T21:48:32.018-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Sweet Pee</title><content type='html'>My baby doll was made of rubber&lt;br /&gt;That’s how old I am&lt;br /&gt;We got her from Salvation&lt;br /&gt;Army because&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We were poor&lt;br /&gt;So my baby doll&lt;br /&gt;Sweet Pee was older than I&lt;br /&gt;And had a hole in her mouth&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And a hole in her butt&lt;br /&gt;So she could pee&lt;br /&gt;And purchases&lt;br /&gt;Of bottles were ten cents&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So she did pee and&lt;br /&gt;I wondered if that’s all girls did&lt;br /&gt;And I remember small gold pins&lt;br /&gt;And torn sheets for diapers&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I didn’t know&lt;br /&gt;Pee could be&lt;br /&gt;Spelled with an “a”&lt;br /&gt;And I wondered why&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dad would name her that&lt;br /&gt;But I wasn’t old enough&lt;br /&gt;To ask why my parents&lt;br /&gt;Old farmers full&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Of what woman&lt;br /&gt;And men had to do&lt;br /&gt;Would let me have&lt;br /&gt;A doll so I&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hugged Sweet Pee close&lt;br /&gt;And smelled her cracked&lt;br /&gt;Rubber head that smelled&lt;br /&gt;Like an eraser gone bad&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6087500516859723396-6626959887601100332?l=deityanddouble.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://deityanddouble.blogspot.com/feeds/6626959887601100332/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6087500516859723396&amp;postID=6626959887601100332' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6087500516859723396/posts/default/6626959887601100332'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6087500516859723396/posts/default/6626959887601100332'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://deityanddouble.blogspot.com/2008/12/sweet-pee.html' title='Sweet Pee'/><author><name>d. breeden</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13190022994900518555</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_HVL3aXrFRuk/Se8u-eMIRWI/AAAAAAAAACs/iwOiEpc4QQM/S220/006.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6087500516859723396.post-455044155889375903</id><published>2008-12-03T08:09:00.001-06:00</published><updated>2008-12-03T08:12:15.939-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Ice Fishing</title><content type='html'>Talk about temporary—&lt;br /&gt;A tent on ice&lt;br /&gt;There to break&lt;br /&gt;Winds that have&lt;br /&gt;Chilled a lake&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And the inevitable&lt;br /&gt;Joke: Cold? Why&lt;br /&gt;Don’tcha build a fire?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The trip out&lt;br /&gt;Is cold and flat&lt;br /&gt;And the hope is&lt;br /&gt;The trip back&lt;br /&gt;Is just the same&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6087500516859723396-455044155889375903?l=deityanddouble.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://deityanddouble.blogspot.com/feeds/455044155889375903/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6087500516859723396&amp;postID=455044155889375903' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6087500516859723396/posts/default/455044155889375903'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6087500516859723396/posts/default/455044155889375903'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://deityanddouble.blogspot.com/2008/12/ice-fishing.html' title='Ice Fishing'/><author><name>d. breeden</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13190022994900518555</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_HVL3aXrFRuk/Se8u-eMIRWI/AAAAAAAAACs/iwOiEpc4QQM/S220/006.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6087500516859723396.post-1007983530911312365</id><published>2008-11-20T08:15:00.001-06:00</published><updated>2008-11-20T08:20:09.667-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Catechism</title><content type='html'>Why is the path&lt;br /&gt;Always&lt;br /&gt;The same path?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Because I walk&lt;br /&gt;The same path&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But why is the path&lt;br /&gt;Always&lt;br /&gt;The same path?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Because I walk&lt;br /&gt;The same path&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But why is the path&lt;br /&gt;Always&lt;br /&gt;The same path?&lt;br /&gt;Always&lt;br /&gt;The same?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Because I look&lt;br /&gt;Always&lt;br /&gt;At the same things&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6087500516859723396-1007983530911312365?l=deityanddouble.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://deityanddouble.blogspot.com/feeds/1007983530911312365/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6087500516859723396&amp;postID=1007983530911312365' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6087500516859723396/posts/default/1007983530911312365'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6087500516859723396/posts/default/1007983530911312365'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://deityanddouble.blogspot.com/2008/11/catechism.html' title='Catechism'/><author><name>d. breeden</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13190022994900518555</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_HVL3aXrFRuk/Se8u-eMIRWI/AAAAAAAAACs/iwOiEpc4QQM/S220/006.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6087500516859723396.post-1141646794146270397</id><published>2008-11-13T09:40:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2008-11-13T09:41:18.869-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Try It</title><content type='html'>The proof is in the pudding&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There’s always pudding&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Prove it&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6087500516859723396-1141646794146270397?l=deityanddouble.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://deityanddouble.blogspot.com/feeds/1141646794146270397/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6087500516859723396&amp;postID=1141646794146270397' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6087500516859723396/posts/default/1141646794146270397'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6087500516859723396/posts/default/1141646794146270397'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://deityanddouble.blogspot.com/2008/11/try-it.html' title='Try It'/><author><name>d. breeden</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13190022994900518555</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_HVL3aXrFRuk/Se8u-eMIRWI/AAAAAAAAACs/iwOiEpc4QQM/S220/006.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6087500516859723396.post-4000348412417543252</id><published>2008-11-05T09:53:00.001-06:00</published><updated>2008-11-05T09:54:56.410-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Symboliste</title><content type='html'>In the wilderness of words&lt;br /&gt;Baudelaire’s hideout&lt;br /&gt;Mallarme’s lair&lt;br /&gt;It is the symbolic order&lt;br /&gt;That is the forest for the trees&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It is the language, unrealized&lt;br /&gt;Waiting for a book&lt;br /&gt;Indicating nothing&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In the trees of the word&lt;br /&gt;Mallarme’s bee buzzes&lt;br /&gt;A basket of symbol&lt;br /&gt;A picnic of signified&lt;br /&gt;And only a dream of lace&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In the forest of the word&lt;br /&gt;Somewhere is Baudelaire’s dream&lt;br /&gt;Bad flowers, ailing gutters&lt;br /&gt;And the Palace of the Real&lt;br /&gt;With pillars named&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All named, each referring&lt;br /&gt;Only to itself&lt;br /&gt;Where meaning stops&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6087500516859723396-4000348412417543252?l=deityanddouble.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://deityanddouble.blogspot.com/feeds/4000348412417543252/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6087500516859723396&amp;postID=4000348412417543252' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6087500516859723396/posts/default/4000348412417543252'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6087500516859723396/posts/default/4000348412417543252'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://deityanddouble.blogspot.com/2008/11/symboliste.html' title='Symboliste'/><author><name>d. breeden</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13190022994900518555</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_HVL3aXrFRuk/Se8u-eMIRWI/AAAAAAAAACs/iwOiEpc4QQM/S220/006.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6087500516859723396.post-3296607293329826427</id><published>2008-10-28T08:24:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2008-10-28T08:24:47.192-05:00</updated><title type='text'>And Time</title><content type='html'>And the time&lt;br /&gt;Ticks&lt;br /&gt;Doesn’t it&lt;br /&gt;From here&lt;br /&gt;To gone when&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We guess&lt;br /&gt;The next&lt;br /&gt;Guess the next&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Waiting&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To outguess&lt;br /&gt;The time&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6087500516859723396-3296607293329826427?l=deityanddouble.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://deityanddouble.blogspot.com/feeds/3296607293329826427/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6087500516859723396&amp;postID=3296607293329826427' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6087500516859723396/posts/default/3296607293329826427'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6087500516859723396/posts/default/3296607293329826427'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://deityanddouble.blogspot.com/2008/10/and-time.html' title='And Time'/><author><name>d. breeden</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13190022994900518555</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_HVL3aXrFRuk/Se8u-eMIRWI/AAAAAAAAACs/iwOiEpc4QQM/S220/006.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6087500516859723396.post-5633841567566667105</id><published>2008-10-22T08:33:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-10-22T08:34:22.338-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Expectation</title><content type='html'>On this morning when&lt;br /&gt;Some questions may be&lt;br /&gt;Answered sunrise rearranges&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Shadows on the steeple&lt;br /&gt;And birds gather on wires&lt;br /&gt;Leaning, preening, switching&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Places for their day&lt;br /&gt;Then they’re gone&lt;br /&gt;As if to say absence&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Is just fine too&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6087500516859723396-5633841567566667105?l=deityanddouble.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://deityanddouble.blogspot.com/feeds/5633841567566667105/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6087500516859723396&amp;postID=5633841567566667105' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6087500516859723396/posts/default/5633841567566667105'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6087500516859723396/posts/default/5633841567566667105'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://deityanddouble.blogspot.com/2008/10/expectation.html' title='Expectation'/><author><name>d. breeden</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13190022994900518555</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_HVL3aXrFRuk/Se8u-eMIRWI/AAAAAAAAACs/iwOiEpc4QQM/S220/006.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6087500516859723396.post-4542089172882528487</id><published>2008-10-15T18:36:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-10-15T18:37:08.644-05:00</updated><title type='text'>The World</title><content type='html'>Seedtime&lt;br /&gt;Harvest&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Repeat&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6087500516859723396-4542089172882528487?l=deityanddouble.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://deityanddouble.blogspot.com/feeds/4542089172882528487/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6087500516859723396&amp;postID=4542089172882528487' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6087500516859723396/posts/default/4542089172882528487'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6087500516859723396/posts/default/4542089172882528487'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://deityanddouble.blogspot.com/2008/10/world.html' title='The World'/><author><name>d. breeden</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13190022994900518555</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_HVL3aXrFRuk/Se8u-eMIRWI/AAAAAAAAACs/iwOiEpc4QQM/S220/006.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6087500516859723396.post-6025722854889405757</id><published>2008-10-01T09:43:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2008-10-01T09:43:59.910-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Ignorance is a Demographic</title><content type='html'>Young person living&lt;br /&gt;In the terror&lt;br /&gt;Called normal&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Called small town&lt;br /&gt;Walls called gender&lt;br /&gt;Walls called race&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What else?&lt;br /&gt;What else is there?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Young person dying&lt;br /&gt;In the slough&lt;br /&gt;Called normal&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Called small town&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Called tradition&lt;br /&gt;Called values&lt;br /&gt;Called normal&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Young person&lt;br /&gt;There is a road&lt;br /&gt;A road even there&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To knowledge&lt;br /&gt;To art&lt;br /&gt;To love&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6087500516859723396-6025722854889405757?l=deityanddouble.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://deityanddouble.blogspot.com/feeds/6025722854889405757/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6087500516859723396&amp;postID=6025722854889405757' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6087500516859723396/posts/default/6025722854889405757'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6087500516859723396/posts/default/6025722854889405757'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://deityanddouble.blogspot.com/2008/10/ignorance-is-demographic.html' title='Ignorance is a Demographic'/><author><name>d. breeden</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13190022994900518555</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_HVL3aXrFRuk/Se8u-eMIRWI/AAAAAAAAACs/iwOiEpc4QQM/S220/006.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6087500516859723396.post-3259067029670043335</id><published>2008-09-24T09:21:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2008-10-24T10:49:22.925-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Occam's Scary Razor</title><content type='html'>Poor William of Ockham,&lt;br /&gt;Poor Brother Will,&lt;br /&gt;Friar who sold his soul,&lt;br /&gt;Who sold our souls.&lt;br /&gt;Not Faustus, and not&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Forbidden Knowledge,&lt;br /&gt;That luscious fruit that&lt;br /&gt;Ought to grow. No.&lt;br /&gt;Only the paltry wisdom—&lt;br /&gt;Numquam ponenda est&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pluralitas sine necessitate,&lt;br /&gt;Meaning roughly—cut&lt;br /&gt;The crap; roughly meaning,&lt;br /&gt;Forget the folderol. Meaning,&lt;br /&gt;It’s simpler than that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lex parsimoniae:&lt;br /&gt;Yes, it’s a law:&lt;br /&gt;Parsimoniousness—&lt;br /&gt;The cause is paltry;&lt;br /&gt;Be a cheap bastard&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;With your speculation.&lt;br /&gt;Poor Brother Ockham&lt;br /&gt;Sold his soul,&lt;br /&gt;Sold our souls.&lt;br /&gt;Nobody likes a razor&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So damn simple,&lt;br /&gt;So damn sharp.&lt;br /&gt;Why can’t we be Faustus?&lt;br /&gt;Why isn’t anything&lt;br /&gt;Forbidden? Why must&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There be always&lt;br /&gt;A simpler answer. . .&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6087500516859723396-3259067029670043335?l=deityanddouble.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://deityanddouble.blogspot.com/feeds/3259067029670043335/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6087500516859723396&amp;postID=3259067029670043335' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6087500516859723396/posts/default/3259067029670043335'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6087500516859723396/posts/default/3259067029670043335'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://deityanddouble.blogspot.com/2008/09/occams-scary-razor.html' title='Occam&apos;s Scary Razor'/><author><name>d. breeden</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13190022994900518555</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_HVL3aXrFRuk/Se8u-eMIRWI/AAAAAAAAACs/iwOiEpc4QQM/S220/006.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6087500516859723396.post-4268537378085449779</id><published>2008-09-17T08:49:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2008-09-17T08:49:49.575-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Morning, It Would Appear</title><content type='html'>Gnats in a swarming orb&lt;br /&gt;Bright in a rising sun&lt;br /&gt;Busy, busy, busy&lt;br /&gt;It would appear&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Swarming like the bus&lt;br /&gt;I used to ride&lt;br /&gt;Used to dread that&lt;br /&gt;Comes by still, raising&lt;br /&gt;Dust in the late summer&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dark silhouettes of the few&lt;br /&gt;Kids inside, still, waiting&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And the moles have been&lt;br /&gt;At it all night—fresh lumps&lt;br /&gt;Of dirt turned. Busy, busy&lt;br /&gt;Busy it would appear&lt;br /&gt;As autumn comes on&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And the marigolds I planted&lt;br /&gt;In spring mud, planted for&lt;br /&gt;Two inches tall, bloomed&lt;br /&gt;Now at three feet. Busy,&lt;br /&gt;busy, busy till the seed&lt;br /&gt;time, it would appear&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And a chirping bird—&lt;br /&gt;Only a glimpse of crimson&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And a wet spider web&lt;br /&gt;Waving in morning’s breeze&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Busy, busy, it would appear&lt;br /&gt;Bustling in the late summer&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All this, my home once&lt;br /&gt;Years ago, too many to count&lt;br /&gt;Busy still, it would appear&lt;br /&gt;As I wait, a silhouette&lt;br /&gt;Still, waiting, it would appear&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6087500516859723396-4268537378085449779?l=deityanddouble.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://deityanddouble.blogspot.com/feeds/4268537378085449779/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6087500516859723396&amp;postID=4268537378085449779' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6087500516859723396/posts/default/4268537378085449779'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6087500516859723396/posts/default/4268537378085449779'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://deityanddouble.blogspot.com/2008/09/morning-it-would-appear.html' title='Morning, It Would Appear'/><author><name>d. breeden</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13190022994900518555</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_HVL3aXrFRuk/Se8u-eMIRWI/AAAAAAAAACs/iwOiEpc4QQM/S220/006.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6087500516859723396.post-7777527074372698619</id><published>2008-09-09T08:45:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2008-09-09T08:45:50.258-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Subtle Turning</title><content type='html'>Poor Daniel of Volterra&lt;br /&gt;Known now forever&lt;br /&gt;As “the trouserer”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Paid to put pantaloons&lt;br /&gt;On the Sistine Chapel nudes&lt;br /&gt;How’s that for a counter-&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Reformation? Poor Daniel&lt;br /&gt;Of Volterra, “Thus ever&lt;br /&gt;To nudity,” he said&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And the world do turn&lt;br /&gt;Ever, Daniel of Volterra&lt;br /&gt;With subtle changes&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Time to time&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6087500516859723396-7777527074372698619?l=deityanddouble.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://deityanddouble.blogspot.com/feeds/7777527074372698619/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6087500516859723396&amp;postID=7777527074372698619' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6087500516859723396/posts/default/7777527074372698619'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6087500516859723396/posts/default/7777527074372698619'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://deityanddouble.blogspot.com/2008/09/subtle-turning.html' title='Subtle Turning'/><author><name>d. breeden</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13190022994900518555</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_HVL3aXrFRuk/Se8u-eMIRWI/AAAAAAAAACs/iwOiEpc4QQM/S220/006.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6087500516859723396.post-2615334008674475449</id><published>2008-09-01T08:20:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-09-01T08:21:02.114-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Haze, August 30th</title><content type='html'>He sits stunned&lt;br /&gt;Stunned by life&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wish to say&lt;br /&gt;Look—the clouds&lt;br /&gt;Their bellies purple&lt;br /&gt;In morning light&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Outside, wild turkeys&lt;br /&gt;Yearlings follow&lt;br /&gt;Their mother and&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The blue heron—&lt;br /&gt;If only we went&lt;br /&gt;To the river—&lt;br /&gt;Would be fishing now&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He sits, stunned&lt;br /&gt;Stunned by life&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And the late summer&lt;br /&gt;Morning and its haze&lt;br /&gt;Waits outside for&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My old father&lt;br /&gt;Who sits stunned&lt;br /&gt;Stunned by life&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6087500516859723396-2615334008674475449?l=deityanddouble.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://deityanddouble.blogspot.com/feeds/2615334008674475449/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6087500516859723396&amp;postID=2615334008674475449' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6087500516859723396/posts/default/2615334008674475449'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6087500516859723396/posts/default/2615334008674475449'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://deityanddouble.blogspot.com/2008/09/haze-august-30th.html' title='Haze, August 30th'/><author><name>d. breeden</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13190022994900518555</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_HVL3aXrFRuk/Se8u-eMIRWI/AAAAAAAAACs/iwOiEpc4QQM/S220/006.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6087500516859723396.post-49708630237602287</id><published>2008-08-21T08:46:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-08-21T08:47:12.084-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Between Space</title><content type='html'>It is the between that kills&lt;br /&gt;The limbo&lt;br /&gt;The maybe, but&lt;br /&gt;Maybe, not yet&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It’s the neither that kills&lt;br /&gt;The liminal&lt;br /&gt;The dark hall neither&lt;br /&gt;Yes nor loss&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It is the between that kills&lt;br /&gt;Rehearsing the scenes&lt;br /&gt;Suffering each and&lt;br /&gt;Asking, when, when?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It is the neither&lt;br /&gt;It is the between that kills&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6087500516859723396-49708630237602287?l=deityanddouble.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://deityanddouble.blogspot.com/feeds/49708630237602287/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6087500516859723396&amp;postID=49708630237602287' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6087500516859723396/posts/default/49708630237602287'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6087500516859723396/posts/default/49708630237602287'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://deityanddouble.blogspot.com/2008/08/between-space.html' title='Between Space'/><author><name>d. breeden</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13190022994900518555</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_HVL3aXrFRuk/Se8u-eMIRWI/AAAAAAAAACs/iwOiEpc4QQM/S220/006.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6087500516859723396.post-1800314645081810414</id><published>2008-08-15T13:01:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2008-08-15T13:01:55.537-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Two Views</title><content type='html'>A minor tragedy&lt;br /&gt;Outside my window&lt;br /&gt;Moth caught&lt;br /&gt;Fluttering&lt;br /&gt;By a sparrow&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A minor victory&lt;br /&gt;Outside my window&lt;br /&gt;Sparrow adept&lt;br /&gt;Feasting&lt;br /&gt;On a moth&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6087500516859723396-1800314645081810414?l=deityanddouble.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://deityanddouble.blogspot.com/feeds/1800314645081810414/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6087500516859723396&amp;postID=1800314645081810414' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6087500516859723396/posts/default/1800314645081810414'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6087500516859723396/posts/default/1800314645081810414'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://deityanddouble.blogspot.com/2008/08/two-views.html' title='Two Views'/><author><name>d. breeden</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13190022994900518555</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_HVL3aXrFRuk/Se8u-eMIRWI/AAAAAAAAACs/iwOiEpc4QQM/S220/006.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6087500516859723396.post-4434844996447190714</id><published>2008-07-31T12:02:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2008-07-31T12:02:49.458-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Meaning, Then</title><content type='html'>Where is meaning, then?&lt;br /&gt;Not in the long run&lt;br /&gt;That no one sees;&lt;br /&gt;Not in the short&lt;br /&gt;With food to find;&lt;br /&gt;Where is meaning, then&lt;br /&gt;When prayer proves&lt;br /&gt;So much whining&lt;br /&gt;Into thin air?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Where is meaning, then?&lt;br /&gt;And we can say&lt;br /&gt;The failure lies here&lt;br /&gt;And there, or is no&lt;br /&gt;Failure at all, and on;&lt;br /&gt;Yet what was it but&lt;br /&gt;Whining into thin air?&lt;br /&gt;What was it but loss?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Where is the meaning, then?&lt;br /&gt;Shall we call it the&lt;br /&gt;Cruelty of the universe?&lt;br /&gt;Shall we call it the&lt;br /&gt;Cruelty of our demands?&lt;br /&gt;Where is the meaning, then?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Or shall we chalk it up&lt;br /&gt;To both and call it our lot?&lt;br /&gt;Where is the meaning then?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6087500516859723396-4434844996447190714?l=deityanddouble.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://deityanddouble.blogspot.com/feeds/4434844996447190714/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6087500516859723396&amp;postID=4434844996447190714' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6087500516859723396/posts/default/4434844996447190714'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6087500516859723396/posts/default/4434844996447190714'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://deityanddouble.blogspot.com/2008/07/meaning-then.html' title='Meaning, Then'/><author><name>d. breeden</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13190022994900518555</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_HVL3aXrFRuk/Se8u-eMIRWI/AAAAAAAAACs/iwOiEpc4QQM/S220/006.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6087500516859723396.post-5150235450771177217</id><published>2008-07-22T11:36:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-07-22T11:37:21.959-05:00</updated><title type='text'>The Fear Before</title><content type='html'>air freshens&lt;br /&gt;in light sprinkles&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and there’s another demon&lt;br /&gt;faced down&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;easy to forget&lt;br /&gt;the fear before&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;easy to forget&lt;br /&gt;the coming rain&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6087500516859723396-5150235450771177217?l=deityanddouble.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://deityanddouble.blogspot.com/feeds/5150235450771177217/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6087500516859723396&amp;postID=5150235450771177217' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6087500516859723396/posts/default/5150235450771177217'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6087500516859723396/posts/default/5150235450771177217'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://deityanddouble.blogspot.com/2008/07/fear-before.html' title='The Fear Before'/><author><name>d. breeden</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13190022994900518555</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_HVL3aXrFRuk/Se8u-eMIRWI/AAAAAAAAACs/iwOiEpc4QQM/S220/006.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6087500516859723396.post-7060538066624786426</id><published>2008-07-15T13:39:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-07-15T13:40:01.717-05:00</updated><title type='text'>On Driving Too Far and On</title><content type='html'>Then I notice the roads I’m on&lt;br /&gt;Crossing roads I’ve been before&lt;br /&gt;Routes crossing routes&lt;br /&gt;Angles crossing angles&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Like a wheat field reaped&lt;br /&gt;By a crazed harvester&lt;br /&gt;Like raindrops in a whirlwind&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And I’m left with the old question&lt;br /&gt;And left with the question of the old&lt;br /&gt;Where did my life go&lt;br /&gt;Where did my way go&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Routes crossing roads&lt;br /&gt;Wind-driven rain&lt;br /&gt;A crazed reaper somewhere&lt;br /&gt;And me still loose&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me still going&lt;br /&gt;Under a dizzying sky&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6087500516859723396-7060538066624786426?l=deityanddouble.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://deityanddouble.blogspot.com/feeds/7060538066624786426/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6087500516859723396&amp;postID=7060538066624786426' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6087500516859723396/posts/default/7060538066624786426'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6087500516859723396/posts/default/7060538066624786426'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://deityanddouble.blogspot.com/2008/07/on-driving-too-far-and-on.html' title='On Driving Too Far and On'/><author><name>d. breeden</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13190022994900518555</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_HVL3aXrFRuk/Se8u-eMIRWI/AAAAAAAAACs/iwOiEpc4QQM/S220/006.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6087500516859723396.post-8380924431050358558</id><published>2008-07-02T13:03:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-07-02T13:04:15.824-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Meditation, Excess in Thought</title><content type='html'>“The world’s charity does not err on the side of excess. . .”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Matthew Arnold&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It is the inner life&lt;br /&gt;That is the life&lt;br /&gt;The thoughts brought out&lt;br /&gt;Brought up from the cave&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is the life of us all&lt;br /&gt;Each in our selves&lt;br /&gt;Our choice to denigrate&lt;br /&gt;To harm others for saying&lt;br /&gt;Their truths, invading or&lt;br /&gt;Honoring the inner kingdom&lt;br /&gt;Every despot hates&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To take life&lt;br /&gt;To take being&lt;br /&gt;Is the dream of despots&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Because the social constructs us&lt;br /&gt;That which we share of ourselves&lt;br /&gt;With others&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It is the meeting&lt;br /&gt;Of the personal&lt;br /&gt;And social that&lt;br /&gt;Creates the human&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anthros—cosmos—salvos&lt;br /&gt;Human—universe—salvation&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Never will we know&lt;br /&gt;The human or the universe&lt;br /&gt;But the exploration&lt;br /&gt;There, that, is salvation&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When we say&lt;br /&gt;So long to dualism&lt;br /&gt;A lot dies&lt;br /&gt;A lot gets born&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Plato with his Good&lt;br /&gt;That becomes god&lt;br /&gt;Come to that&lt;br /&gt;The striving in us&lt;br /&gt;For order and worth&lt;br /&gt;That is always other&lt;br /&gt;This dies when dualism&lt;br /&gt;Goes&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The wall crumbles&lt;br /&gt;When dualism goes&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Superstition&lt;br /&gt;The fear of death&lt;br /&gt;As in the time of Epicurus&lt;br /&gt;Still it is that our problems&lt;br /&gt;Are two: fear of the gods&lt;br /&gt;Which leads to crazed superstition&lt;br /&gt;And fear of death which&lt;br /&gt;Drives the first&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Inner calm&lt;br /&gt;Epicurus taught&lt;br /&gt;Is the goal&lt;br /&gt;Achievable&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Discipline the will&lt;br /&gt;Live according to nature&lt;br /&gt;Cultivate virtues&lt;br /&gt; “Live unknown”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There are atoms&lt;br /&gt;And there is the void&lt;br /&gt;Epicurus taught&lt;br /&gt;And when we die&lt;br /&gt;Our stuff goes back&lt;br /&gt;Into everywhere&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;From whence we came&lt;br /&gt;So why fear that?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And the gods?&lt;br /&gt;Well, they’re perfect&lt;br /&gt;A thing to emulate&lt;br /&gt;And can’t be bothered&lt;br /&gt;With all our bother&lt;br /&gt;A thing to emulate&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6087500516859723396-8380924431050358558?l=deityanddouble.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://deityanddouble.blogspot.com/feeds/8380924431050358558/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6087500516859723396&amp;postID=8380924431050358558' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6087500516859723396/posts/default/8380924431050358558'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6087500516859723396/posts/default/8380924431050358558'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://deityanddouble.blogspot.com/2008/07/meditation-excess-in-thought.html' title='Meditation, Excess in Thought'/><author><name>d. breeden</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13190022994900518555</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_HVL3aXrFRuk/Se8u-eMIRWI/AAAAAAAAACs/iwOiEpc4QQM/S220/006.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6087500516859723396.post-7211758725186168090</id><published>2008-06-18T08:58:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-06-18T08:59:09.300-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Meditation, Old is Good...for What?</title><content type='html'>Don’t you get it&lt;br /&gt;Silly youngin’&lt;br /&gt;That if it’s old&lt;br /&gt;Really old, so old&lt;br /&gt;Nobody can read it&lt;br /&gt;Hardly&lt;br /&gt;Can’t even guess it&lt;br /&gt;Hardly&lt;br /&gt;That old&lt;br /&gt;Don’t you know&lt;br /&gt;Silly straplin’&lt;br /&gt;That, that old&lt;br /&gt;Makes it close&lt;br /&gt;Really close&lt;br /&gt;To truth because. . .&lt;br /&gt;‘cause. . .&lt;br /&gt;It’s so old&lt;br /&gt;After all&lt;br /&gt;They knew stuff&lt;br /&gt;Back then&lt;br /&gt;Them old folks&lt;br /&gt;They knew back then&lt;br /&gt;The people way back&lt;br /&gt;They knew something&lt;br /&gt;We don’t know&lt;br /&gt;Silly child&lt;br /&gt;Because. . .&lt;br /&gt;‘cause. . .&lt;br /&gt;They were close&lt;br /&gt;Weren’t they to. . .&lt;br /&gt;To. . .&lt;br /&gt;The Egyptians&lt;br /&gt;Or something&lt;br /&gt;Something&lt;br /&gt;Something. . .because&lt;br /&gt;‘cause then they&lt;br /&gt;Those old folks then&lt;br /&gt;The heard the birds sing&lt;br /&gt;Didn’t they? Or something&lt;br /&gt;Different from us&lt;br /&gt;And looked&lt;br /&gt;And saw the sunset&lt;br /&gt;Didn’t they&lt;br /&gt;And the rise too&lt;br /&gt;Didn’t they?&lt;br /&gt;Didn’t they somehow&lt;br /&gt;Different from us&lt;br /&gt;In a place&lt;br /&gt;In a place&lt;br /&gt;That spoke to them&lt;br /&gt;Unlike us&lt;br /&gt;Unlike we&lt;br /&gt;Silly youngin’s&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6087500516859723396-7211758725186168090?l=deityanddouble.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://deityanddouble.blogspot.com/feeds/7211758725186168090/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6087500516859723396&amp;postID=7211758725186168090' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6087500516859723396/posts/default/7211758725186168090'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6087500516859723396/posts/default/7211758725186168090'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://deityanddouble.blogspot.com/2008/06/meditation-old-is-goodfor-what.html' title='Meditation, Old is Good...for What?'/><author><name>d. breeden</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13190022994900518555</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_HVL3aXrFRuk/Se8u-eMIRWI/AAAAAAAAACs/iwOiEpc4QQM/S220/006.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6087500516859723396.post-6987285173390538436</id><published>2008-06-12T10:36:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-06-12T10:37:54.771-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Meditation, The Metaphors</title><content type='html'>Deity the maker&lt;br /&gt;Crafter of galaxies&lt;br /&gt;Well enough an idea&lt;br /&gt;And where does it lead?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It isn’t deity&lt;br /&gt;It’s what’s done&lt;br /&gt;With deity that&lt;br /&gt;Gets dangerous&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Deity the ruler&lt;br /&gt;Maker of the math&lt;br /&gt;Good enough an idea&lt;br /&gt;And where does it lead?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It isn’t deity&lt;br /&gt;It’s what’s done&lt;br /&gt;With deity that&lt;br /&gt;Gets dangerous&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Deity above, deity in&lt;br /&gt;Here, there, every place&lt;br /&gt;Maker God, ruler god&lt;br /&gt;God the potter&lt;br /&gt;God the math whiz&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;God at clay&lt;br /&gt;God at blackboard&lt;br /&gt;God the maker&lt;br /&gt;God scientist, judge&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It isn’t deity&lt;br /&gt;It’s where the&lt;br /&gt;Metaphors go that&lt;br /&gt;Gets dangerous&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6087500516859723396-6987285173390538436?l=deityanddouble.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://deityanddouble.blogspot.com/feeds/6987285173390538436/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6087500516859723396&amp;postID=6987285173390538436' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6087500516859723396/posts/default/6987285173390538436'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6087500516859723396/posts/default/6987285173390538436'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://deityanddouble.blogspot.com/2008/06/meditation-metaphors.html' title='Meditation, The Metaphors'/><author><name>d. breeden</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13190022994900518555</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_HVL3aXrFRuk/Se8u-eMIRWI/AAAAAAAAACs/iwOiEpc4QQM/S220/006.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6087500516859723396.post-1429967202365856928</id><published>2008-06-03T09:10:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2008-06-03T09:10:55.688-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Pantoum on Deity as an Answer</title><content type='html'>What question gets answered&lt;br /&gt;By the proposition “deity,”&lt;br /&gt;Since the proposition includes&lt;br /&gt;Mostly worship of a deity?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;By the proposition “deity”&lt;br /&gt;We get mostly “ought” and “must,”&lt;br /&gt;Mostly worship of a deity,&lt;br /&gt;No answers to questions. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We get mostly “ought” and “must”&lt;br /&gt;Since the proposition includes&lt;br /&gt;No answers to questions. &lt;br /&gt;What question gets answered?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6087500516859723396-1429967202365856928?l=deityanddouble.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://deityanddouble.blogspot.com/feeds/1429967202365856928/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6087500516859723396&amp;postID=1429967202365856928' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6087500516859723396/posts/default/1429967202365856928'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6087500516859723396/posts/default/1429967202365856928'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://deityanddouble.blogspot.com/2008/06/pantoum-on-deity-as-answer.html' title='Pantoum on Deity as an Answer'/><author><name>d. breeden</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13190022994900518555</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_HVL3aXrFRuk/Se8u-eMIRWI/AAAAAAAAACs/iwOiEpc4QQM/S220/006.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6087500516859723396.post-3802565607037134381</id><published>2008-05-29T08:09:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2008-05-29T08:11:35.367-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Meditation, Mo-Tsu (490-403BCE)</title><content type='html'>Mo-Tzu believed in getting it done&lt;br /&gt;See the craftsman and the amateur&lt;br /&gt;See how they both can measure and cut?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;See how all it takes&lt;br /&gt;Is a bit of thought&lt;br /&gt;And a good set of tools?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;See how morality doesn’t&lt;br /&gt;Come from the sky?&lt;br /&gt;See how morality does and doesn’t&lt;br /&gt;Come from tradition?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;See how all it takes&lt;br /&gt;Is a bit of thought&lt;br /&gt;And a good set of tools?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Traditions, families, kingdoms we can flee&lt;br /&gt;Nature, we never can&lt;br /&gt;See how one is variable and the other not?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;See how all it takes&lt;br /&gt;Is a bit of thought&lt;br /&gt;And a good set of tools?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It is not evil but different&lt;br /&gt;Judgments that lead&lt;br /&gt;To argument, violence, war&lt;br /&gt;Mo-Tzu believed in thinking this through&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We don’t have to say it’s true&lt;br /&gt;Only that it’s there&lt;br /&gt;And find the way&lt;br /&gt;Find the way to beneficence&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In us, in families, in the world&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;See how all it takes&lt;br /&gt;Is a bit of thought&lt;br /&gt;And a good set of tools?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6087500516859723396-3802565607037134381?l=deityanddouble.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://deityanddouble.blogspot.com/feeds/3802565607037134381/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6087500516859723396&amp;postID=3802565607037134381' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6087500516859723396/posts/default/3802565607037134381'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6087500516859723396/posts/default/3802565607037134381'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://deityanddouble.blogspot.com/2008/05/meditation-mo-tsu-490-403bce.html' title='Meditation, Mo-Tsu (490-403BCE)'/><author><name>d. breeden</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13190022994900518555</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_HVL3aXrFRuk/Se8u-eMIRWI/AAAAAAAAACs/iwOiEpc4QQM/S220/006.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6087500516859723396.post-129400536341648753</id><published>2008-05-22T09:56:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2008-05-22T10:05:05.463-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Homily to be Presented Out-of-Doors</title><content type='html'>The fundamental goodness of nature&lt;br /&gt;Is a very pleasant thought but&lt;br /&gt;Doesn’t appear to be borne out by observation.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Horrified by the implications of natural science&lt;br /&gt;That were being explored in the nineteenth century,&lt;br /&gt;The poet Alfred Lord Tennyson famously&lt;br /&gt;called nature “red in tooth and claw.” &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tennyson’s view merely errs on the opposite extreme,&lt;br /&gt;And between a beneficent, be-aproned Mother Nature&lt;br /&gt;And a snarling, murderous banshee&lt;br /&gt;There is perhaps a truth.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Questioning Nature’s complete innocence&lt;br /&gt;Does not deny an order to nature,&lt;br /&gt;Nor does it deny that the order is essentially benign&lt;br /&gt;In some large, universal pattern.&lt;br /&gt;The question merely implies&lt;br /&gt;That the implications of nature’s order&lt;br /&gt;Do not always mean what we would call good&lt;br /&gt;Toward individuals,&lt;br /&gt;If we are to define “good” as pleasant&lt;br /&gt;Flourishing rather than mere survival,&lt;br /&gt;A state that even in its own simplicity&lt;br /&gt;Is also always in question. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Whether we believe that nature&lt;br /&gt;Is the creation of a deity,&lt;br /&gt;The emanation from a deity,&lt;br /&gt;Or as close as the universe gets to deity,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nature calls us out of what ee cummings called&lt;br /&gt;“the bigness of our littleness” and into&lt;br /&gt;the bigness of the bigness.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ego-obsessed creatures that we are,&lt;br /&gt;This call is never a bad thing,&lt;br /&gt;And heeding it is I believe the primary spiritual act.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It is this escape from the ego,&lt;br /&gt;This escape from the little me obsessed by me,&lt;br /&gt;That human religion&lt;br /&gt;(and I happen to believe there IS NO other&lt;br /&gt;Kind of religion except human) teaches.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This escape from ego is what&lt;br /&gt;The various technologies of worship&lt;br /&gt;And meditation strive toward.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My own spiritual path,&lt;br /&gt;An odd mixture of Taoism&lt;br /&gt;And Stoic philosophy,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Teaches me to look at nature,&lt;br /&gt;To study its ways, and to conform&lt;br /&gt;My wishes and actions to it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Water always runs downhill, after all,&lt;br /&gt;A lesson to be learned.&lt;br /&gt;And nature also teaches us that&lt;br /&gt;The future is not here,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Never is here, and will never be&lt;br /&gt;At all what we planned for&lt;br /&gt;In the bigness or our littleness.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nature teaches us to live in the place and time&lt;br /&gt;That nature, in whatever wisdom she has,&lt;br /&gt;Has created us. Our existence, now, is&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After all, one of the few things we can&lt;br /&gt;Really know about our lives and our realities. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As Stoic philosopher Epictetus put it&lt;br /&gt;“Your aim should be to view the world&lt;br /&gt;As an integrated whole, to faithfully&lt;br /&gt;Incline your whole being toward the highest good,&lt;br /&gt;And to adopt the will of nature as your own”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Your aim should be to view the world&lt;br /&gt;As an integrated whole, to faithfully&lt;br /&gt;Incline your whole being toward the highest good,&lt;br /&gt;And to adopt the will of nature as your own”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is, I think, the wisest of wisdom.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, perhaps we worship a transcendent deity,&lt;br /&gt;Perhaps we worship nature herself,&lt;br /&gt;Or perhaps we merely marvel at the wonder&lt;br /&gt;Of being here at all;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;However we go about that, let us agree at least&lt;br /&gt;That our aim will be to view the world as an integrated whole,&lt;br /&gt;That we will faithfully incline your whole being toward the highest good,&lt;br /&gt;And that it is wise to adopt the will of nature as our own.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Amen&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6087500516859723396-129400536341648753?l=deityanddouble.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://deityanddouble.blogspot.com/feeds/129400536341648753/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6087500516859723396&amp;postID=129400536341648753' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6087500516859723396/posts/default/129400536341648753'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6087500516859723396/posts/default/129400536341648753'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://deityanddouble.blogspot.com/2008/05/homily-to-be-presented-out-of-doors_22.html' title='Homily to be Presented Out-of-Doors'/><author><name>d. breeden</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13190022994900518555</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_HVL3aXrFRuk/Se8u-eMIRWI/AAAAAAAAACs/iwOiEpc4QQM/S220/006.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6087500516859723396.post-1737335236265742385</id><published>2008-05-14T09:37:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-05-14T09:38:48.935-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Sestina on a Parable from Heidegger</title><content type='html'>Care hugged the new human to her&lt;br /&gt;As God said, “Stop. This spirit is mine.”&lt;br /&gt;Earth said, “But she is my verdure.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Care hugged the new human to her;&lt;br /&gt;God stormed on in thunder.&lt;br /&gt;Earth said, “I am ever her shrine.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Care hugged the new human to her;&lt;br /&gt;God said, “Stop. This spirit is mine.”&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6087500516859723396-1737335236265742385?l=deityanddouble.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://deityanddouble.blogspot.com/feeds/1737335236265742385/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6087500516859723396&amp;postID=1737335236265742385' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6087500516859723396/posts/default/1737335236265742385'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6087500516859723396/posts/default/1737335236265742385'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://deityanddouble.blogspot.com/2008/05/sestina-on-parable-from-heidegger.html' title='Sestina on a Parable from Heidegger'/><author><name>d. breeden</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13190022994900518555</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_HVL3aXrFRuk/Se8u-eMIRWI/AAAAAAAAACs/iwOiEpc4QQM/S220/006.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry></feed>
