Poetry, writing, drawing, painting and more.
Take this job and shove it!
Toes in the water.
Butt in the sand.
Oh, I’d love to call it quits.
~
I’ve got better things to do,
then worry about your stress.
Cool ocean breeze,
9 to 5, get a clue.
~
Change my latitude!
Yes!
Come get me salty.
Change my attitude.
~
Work, work, work, til I’m black and blue.
Aching head.
Tired body.
No! Don’t let this week be through.
Paramount Global owns the Star Trek franchise. This is a piece of fan fiction based on Star Trek the Next Generation
The voice
“You are a very good friend.” Geordi heard echoing in his ears. He couldn’t tell the gender of the voice or the direction from which it came.
“What?” He was shaken. Darkness enveloped him.
“Anyone else would have left him.”
“Who are you?” Geordi tried to move but he seemed paralyzed by the darkness.
“That doesn’t matter.” The voice began to take on a different tone.
“Yes, it does.” Out of the darkness came a light. A pink ball of light slowly came toward him. It seemed to examine him. He watched it as it moved around him. “What do you want?”
“You are a very good friend.” The voice was becoming more and more feminine. The light stopped three feet in front of him, hovering.
Geordi began to calm down, taking a deep breath. “Yes, I try to be.”
“Data needs good friends right now.”
“Surely we all do”
“What is your name?” Its voice was recognizable now.
“Are you Sher?”
“Answer my questions and I will answer yours.”
“Geordi.”
“Well Geordi, I am not Sher.”
“You sound like her.”
“Thank you.”
“Are you in danger?”
“That depends.” The light disappeared. Geordi woke up on the floor. Data was gone.
“Data?”
“Yes.” He appeared from a secret room. “Is there something wrong?”
“Nothing.” He got up, tugging at the bottom of his shirt. “What did you find?”
“We have this ship mapped completely wrong.” Geordi joined his friend in this room. It was filled with skinny long drawers. Data pulled a drawer out. These are the blueprints for the ship. They are numbered and signed.”
“Signed? By who?”
“Me.” Data pointed to his signature.
“You designed the Jormungand?”
“No, I was dictated to. I drew her vision.”
“This is just too confusing.”
“Imagine how I am feeling.”
Data closed the drawer as he collapsed in the floor.
Jolene got ran over by a cart
In the pet department at Wal-Mart
You might say all pet owners are friendly
But as for me and Shirley, we disagree
She had been lookin’ at sweaters for Chico
Took one too many steps backwards
And Bubba ran her over with his cart
Look out – there she goes
Bubba pushed her out of the way
Not even an oops or sorry
He filled his basket with Alpo
Quickly rolling down the aisle, out of sight
Jolene got ran over by a cart
In the pet department at Wal-Mart
Little Chico didn’t get a new sweater
Bubba took more than dog food on his roll
When we wondered over to the chip row
Here he comes!
She moved just in time
Bubba almost got her again
Jolene got ran over by a cart
In the pet department at Wal-Mart
You might say all pet owners are friendly
But as for me and Shirley, we disagree
*A cart is a motorized wheelchair. And this person really did try to run me over. There wasn’t anyone in Wal-Mart but him. And he was going where he wanted to go. He didn’t look up. Didn’t say excuse me or I’m sorry. He was laser focused on where he wanted to go.
🛑 Adult content, language, drugs, abuse (multiple forms), please read with discretion. May be a trigger for some readers. Reader discretion advised.
This story has massive amounts of adult content. So much out of my wheel house, here’s to something different.
Judges 19
I have written a past post about Judges 19. Judges 19 – Poetry & More I have great struggles with this story. Why did this happen? I don’t know. It is hard to process.
Where is god?
God conversion continued
“LOVE!” I shouted.
“Humans have taken the Bible, God’s word. God’s love letter to his children and with the help of sin; have manipulated it. Abused it. Used it. And have turned it into an ugly thing.”
“What about me?” I pounded my chest, fighting back the tears. She simply pointed at the little house I was staying in. My anger was instantly replaced with confusion.
She smiled. “Where do you think that came from?”
“You.” The tone of voice I used was to let her know I thought she was an idiot for askin’.
“God gave me the knowledge to use my income wisely. To prepare for the future. To be ready when he called me to be. He provided us both with roofs over our heads. Food to eat. Clothin’ to wear. The ability to learn. And to share.”
I started pacin’ on the carport; “he’s a dead beat! He placed us here and left us!” Big tears rolled down my face, “WHY?”
“If you walk down the road and ask 10 people why; you will get 20 different answers.” She set the rocker in motion with her feet. “My grandpa built this rocker. A storm blew down a mighty tree. One he could never have cut down himself. His wife was pregnant with their first child. He wanted to give her a special gift. One that would be as special to her as she was to him. He decided (after a trip to town) a rocker was what she needed. For her and the baby. He wasn’t a carpenter. But building a rocker was important to him. It took all the wood from that tree for the rocker.”
“Why?” I blurted out. “That’s like using a single tree to make a toothpick.
She smiled, “he wasn’t a carpenter. He didn’t know how. He would make a piece. It wouldn’t work; he would make another piece. He finished the rocker 2 months after the baby was born. For the tree, falling during a storm was one of the worst things that could happen. It was no longer able to live and grow. For my grandpa, the idea of that rocker was so far out of reach. It might as well have been a new car. Imagine wanting something so bad, that you taught yourself how to make it.” She got up. “Over the years, it’s been sanded and repainted. Me and you, we are this rocker. Ever nick. Ever scratch tells a story about the life we have lived. God sands down. Teaches us. Molds us. And when we are ready, uses us to further his kingdom.”
I sat on the carport as she sat in the rocker. “That makes no sense to me.”
“I never wanted a dog. Even thought I was allergic to dogs. When Chico was going to be homeless, I couldn’t let him go to the pound. That decision to bring Chico into my life; that wasn’t me. That was God. He had a plan for both of us. Through Chico, God has soften my heart. Sandpaper. Made it bigger. Sandpaper. Taught me how to care for something other than myself. Sandpaper. Do I love him, yes? Does he grate my last nerve, yes? He tries my patiences and when he’s gone, I will grieve. That will hurt. But I can’t imagine not having made that decision to keep him. It has been expensive. Pure breed dogs can have all manner of health issues. Chico taught me to love. Sandpaper.
“At one point in life, I lost my job. I worked at everything I could do to keep money coming in. Sandpaper. When I got back in the work force, I scrubbed toilets. But, I did the best job at scrubbing toilets that I knew how. Sandpaper. The manager appreciated my hard work and offered me a better job. That taught me that I needed to be wise with my money. Sandpaper.”
I let out a long sigh, “so you choose to give God the credit for all the good. And sin all the bad?”
“I choose.”
“Why?”
“This life is too hard. Bad things happen to us every day. Do we let the bad thing define us? Or do we let God sand us? Can we learn from that bad thing? Can we use that lesson to help others? God allowed Satan to let all manner of bad things happen to Job in the Bible. Satan bet against Job. That he would crumble under the weight of despair. God said, ‘no he won’t. Do your worst. He will remain faithful’. Job lost everything. Even his wife encouraged him to curse God and die. But he didn’t. He stayed faithful. In the end, God blessed Job beyond his wildest dreams. Some people call me weak, uneducated, self righteous. The names are endless. But the names people choose to call me are water off a ducks back.” She smiled.
When I asked, she would read the Bible to me. We started out with Bible stories for children. Then; as my curiosity grew, she started more in-depth lessons. She also gave me a warning, ‘be careful of false teachers. The world is full of them’. ‘How do you know’? I asked. Her voice rings in my head every time I hear a new preacher, ‘false teachers are all smoke and mirrors. They say one thing but do the exact opposite. Pretenders and showman. Listen to that still small voice. It will guide you’.
My best friend and a friend of hers came up with the idea of empowering women by hosting a conference. It is a series of educational and entertaining classes designed for women. Over the past years there have been such classes as: The Law and You, how to fill out an EPO, car care, heart health and more. For some of the more fun classes; there has been, how to be chic on a budget, a yoga class, journaling, or some sort of craft class. I think the past 2 years I’ve taught a class and will be doing so this year.
I’ve been an active part of this for years; in one roll or another. Since I’ve started down this writing journey, I decided to add to my participation.
A business can decorate a table through sponsorships. They can decorate it themselves or pay us to do it. If you self decorate, there is no cost. However; if we do it, there is a small fee involved. Over the years, we have had some amazing table decorations. Yes, there is a prize for the best decorated table. So here goes Chico’s Mom. Sadly, don’t think I can win. But that’s okay.
Ever since she said I could decorate a table; I’ve been planning for this.
I decided not to put my bigger books out; sticking with journals, poetry, and the coloring book.
The class
I have a book of poetry called; Waste not. Want not. These are all things I do living a frugal lifestyle. My bestie said one day, “you make this a game.” So I decided to really make it a game. Patent pending. I hope.
The original concept is a board game. But for a class this size, I thought a question and answer style game would be more time efficient. The questions are mostly based on the poem. But I have added a few that I’ve researched to expend the play time, if needed.
For the lady that gets the highest score, will win a basket. As of right now there are 41 in my class: How frugal are you? A fun game to pull yourself out of the mess your finances are in. This is not financial advice.
Basket:
Waste not. Want not., 2 dish towels, sawing kit, 2 cosmetic spatulas, 2 soap bags, travel sized first aid kit, eye glass repair kit, 6 piece set of screw drivers. 2 lock top trustable storage containers.
“The gates of hell are locked from the inside.”
C S Lewis: The Problem of Pain
Paramount Global owns the Star Trek franchise. This is a piece of fan fiction based on Star Trek the Next Generation
The study
The turbo lift opened into a corridor, Geordi walked to the first open door, disappearing inside. He was in awe of what he saw. He heard Data’s shoes click against the tile outside the room. “Data! Don’t!” It was too late. Data was standing in the doorway of the study. His eyes were transfixed on the life sized painting hanging on the wall. “She is breath taking.” Geordi remarked.
Data walked into the study. His eyes still fixed on the painting. He sat on the couch as if in a trance. He felt warmth at his back. He could smell her perfume. He moved to rest his head on her lap. “What do you have there?” He asked. They were sitting on a white bear skin rug in front of the fireplace. Now Data knew when the picture was taken.
“A lesson.”
“What is my reward?”
“You seek a reward?” She smiled.
“Of course.”
“What reward do you want?”
He loved her smile. It brought tears to his eyes. “I want a kiss for each answer I get right.”
“A kiss? Why should your reward be so small?”
“Small, perhaps. But most delicious.”
“Very well. Let’s see how well Noonien has prepared you for your reward. Falcosparuerius sparuerius.”
“Eastern sparrow.” Came a confident answer.
“Correct. Mustella vison.”
“Mink.”
“Diselphis Virginiana.”
He frowned, “I think I have lost a kiss.”
“Try.” She encouraged. “Answers don’t always have to be on the tip of your tongue. Sometimes before we have an answer, we just have to think about it.”
“Okay,” he sighed. “Virginiana is Virginia.”
“Another name for this is road kill.”
“Road kill? You are joking.”
“No. If you don’t believe me, look it up.”
He looked at her bewildered. “You are helping me. Why?”
“There is nothing wrong in gathering more information to help you solve a problem. In fact, it is a good thing. You gather information about a problem until you are confident about the answer. Sometimes, based on the facts we have, we have to guess what the answer might be. There is no shame in getting something wrong or not having enough information to answer right away. The shame is not learning from your mistake. That is what the whole learning process is about.”
Data thought for a moment. “I am getting two lessons in one here. Not only am I learning the scientific names of animals; I am also getting a lesson in life.”
“For that observation, you get a bonus kiss.”
He puffed up like a proud Peacock, “really?”
“Yes.” She winked, “what does diselphis mean?”
“I do not know.”
“Opossum. Diselphis Virginiana is a Virginia Opossum.”
He scoffed, “we have not studied about those.”
“You will enjoy them when you do. Agkiston contitrix?”
“Copperhead.”
“Oxydenrum Arboreum?”
“That is not an animal.”
“No, it isn’t.”
“Cheater,” he frowned.
“I never said they were all animals.”
“Sourwood.”
“Four out of five ain’t bad. And one bonus kiss.” She smiled, laying the paper on the coffee table behind them.”
“Really?” He rose to his knees. “Dr. Soong would have scolded me, telling me to do better next time.”
“I believe you can get just as good or even better results with positive reinforcement.”
“As do I.” He leaned in and kissed her, a long delicious kiss.
“Well now, Mr. DaTa, does that count as one kiss or all five.”
“I would be a fool to let that be all five.” He kissed her again. Slowly they disappeared behind the coffee table onto the rug.
“Data?” Geordi called to him.
He wiped away the tears, “I am fine.”
“I have to ask, who painted the portrait?”
“I have no idea. It was not here the last time I was.”
“It is amazing. It almost seems alive.” Geordi studied it.
Data was too in shock to study anything. He stretched out on the couch. He was looking in the direction of the painting but not seeing it.
“Do we need to move on?”
“No, I will be fine.”
Geordi took a book from the shelf to read. It didn’t seem right to leave Data alone.
🛑 Adult content, language, drugs, abuse (multiple forms), please read with discretion. May be a trigger for some readers. Reader discretion advised.
This story has massive amounts of adult content. So much out of my wheel house, here’s to something different.
Read the book of Job. I don’t think anyone in the Bible suffered as much as Job. But he never blamed God for his troubles. He stayed faithful.
Where is god?
God conversion
Maggie was true to her word. She taught me how to sleep in a bed. Not just on top of it. The difference in linens. How to cook. Even how to use a microwave. The washer and dryer. I learned how to mow and sew. Use a saw. Weedeater. I cleaned gutters. We built a fence and a deck. And she taught me how to drive. The right way.
We had lots and lots of conversations about God. She told me about her struggles with Christianity. Her fights with God.
“Have you ever been married, I asked once?
“No.”
“Did god not make you a partner?”
She smiled, “I believe the helpless romantics made that up to fill an empty hole. There are lots of examples in the Bible of people who used their singleness to glorify God. Society (capitalism) wants us to have a partner it’s more profitable in the long run. Even if it ends in divorce, someone is makin’ money. What about you?”
“One of the podcasts you listened to was a lady. She was talking about how we learn to have relationships from our parents. I’ve thought about that a lot. I never want to treat anyone the way my parents treated each other.” Maggie winked at me as if she understood what I meant.
As time passed, I became less angry.
She became my rock. Nights I would wake screaming, remembering; she would make hot chocolate with marshmallows. Only on those nights did she break out the marshmallows. At first I thought it was weird. Now I understand she was trying to lesson my pain.
One conversation we had got heated. I asked her why her God allowed bad things to happen. She smiled a wicked grin, “he’s not just my God. He’s everyones God. Some people choose not to believe in him.”
“Bull,” I stopped short of using ‘abusive language’. “Right.” I huffed.
“God gave us free will. We can choose to walk his path or ours. He’s not going to force us to follow him. If you do choose his path, he gives us correction. Direction. Course corrections, if you will.”
“He’s a dick!” I screamed.
“How so?” She never raised her voice. Didn’t get angry. She really wanted to know what I thought.
I knew she knew something bad happened to me. We had never talked about it. I couldn’t. Deep down, I knew she knew that too.
“God made a perfect world for us. Sin destroyed that world. Our world. We are born into a world of sin. Those who choose to walk God’s path fights sin every day and are instructed to wear the armor of God. Bad things happen so that we will blame God. Where is he? Why did he allow this to happen? Why didn’t he stop this? God didn’t do this. We did it to ourselves. We allowed sin into our world.”
“A baby didn’t.” I retorted out of frustration.
“None of us did. Sin was here when we were born. Sin is older than humanity.”
“Where is sin come from?”
She rocked for a moment, “Satan was an angel. He fell because of pride. He desired to be God, not to be a servant of God.”
“Couldn’t God just make us another home without sin ?”
“He did. The Garden of Eden but Satan appeared there and brought the fall of man. Jesus died on the cross to defeat sin. But we have to accept Jesus. We can choose to or not to?”
“Sin isn’t fair.”
“Yeah, it kinda is. It preys on us equally. We have to rely on God’s love. God is perfect love and the only way to defeat sin.”
Revelation 8:1
And when he had opened the seventh seal, there was silence in heaven about the space of half an hour.
Why? Why was there silence in heaven? Every occupant in heaven stopped worshiping.
Max Lucado offers in Great House of God; because someone prayed.
Poetry & More