Wednesday, 31 October 2018
Sunday, 28 October 2018
Wednesday, 24 October 2018
Tuesday, 23 October 2018
Wednesday, 17 October 2018
Tuesday, 9 October 2018
Monday, 8 October 2018
Sunday, 7 October 2018
Know Thyself - er - Know Others - er - Fantasize Everything
In ancient times knowing yourself was the best way to make sense of the world. Then enlightened society thought that knowing others was more important - and so people stopped knowing themselves and studied the world and others.
Nowadays most people neither know themselves nor others - instead they know in fine detail their fantasies about themselves and their fantasies about others. Is it then any wonder that they take to the streets when the real world disagrees with their fantasy? That they require safe spaces and people to see them as victims?
We need to get back to knowing ourselves and, when we do this well enough, we will find out that we are not gods, and that in fact we are in desperate need of a saviour. That while we are greatly valued, we are far less important than we previously supposed. As for others? Whether we know them or not, we must love them - why? Because as bad as we are, God sent his Son to die for us and save us - and He really does know us - warts and all. Truly - know thyself and then turn to God.
Thursday, 4 October 2018
IT HAS A BOMB IN IT
It does and what’s
more,
who knows where it’s
from...
Amongst the green grass rolls
of the coal rich hill
where in Shamrock
flowers
the bees never still
and dew glistens on
every furry back
and plants are like
palms
over every track...
A beetle...
under a crow’s shadow
scuttled to hide
along a yellow flex
into a round smooth
hole,
not dug by nature;
not spider, worm nor
mole.
A hole among many
in the hillside
and...
BANG!
It had a bomb in it.
Copyright © Jason
Horsler
10/03/97
Wednesday, 3 October 2018
THE LESSER
These are the words written in anger;
The expression of
unanswered need,
The drawing in
and cutting out;
The scream of
ink a greed.
These are the times of close isolation;
A madness of
misunderstanding,
A call to arms to
search in my barrel
And hoist out a
heart too demanding.
Once and never again, the point was lost -
A gambling of
cannon shot,
Tore out the
thread.
Things burned
too hot;
Quickened and
destructive,
Or quiet and
building;
To which evil should I be yielding?
Copyright © Jason
Horsler
06/10/96
Tuesday, 2 October 2018
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