Month: May 2014

About Those Tickled Ears

“Having a form of godliness, but denying its power…” This is quite common in Christian circles today, as it has been for a long time.

Rebecca Trotter's avatarThe Upside Down World

“For the time will come when they will not endure sound doctrine; but wanting to have their ears tickled, they will accumulate for themselves teachers in accordance to their own desires, and will turn away their ears from the truth and will turn aside to myths.” – 2 Timothy 4:3-4

As a general rule I do my best to adhere to the policy that one ought to promote what one loves rather than bashing what one opposes. But today, I feel the need to warn y’all about the ear ticklers. “Have their ears tickled” was something of an idiom in ancient Rome which meant that a person was listening for things which were pleasing to them rather than the truth. What people looking to have their ears tickled really had a preference for were ideas which were new or novel. Paul warned young Timothy that the day would come when ear…

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Coloring Innocence

A poem about painting, a poem about truth. Right up my alley! 🙂

Paul F. Lenzi's avatarPoesy plus Polemics

Photo by Shutterstock Images At photo-dictionary.com Photo by Shutterstock Images
At photo-dictionary.com

how does a child view this world
does she see only colors she’s learned
or the whole shocking spectrum
of concatenation
we adults disarranged
with deliberate malice

does she recognize dark shades of war
in our black-and-blue purples
with subtle distinctions
of just war from unjust
of mercy from weakness

can she appreciate bright hues of love
in our radiant yellows
with gradient edges
eros blurred into agapē
storge into philia

how can we train her young eyes
will she learn only colors we see
or the whole lovely spectrum
beyond limitations
imposed by the ignorance
stalking our ill-matured guilt

she deserves more than blindness
to true colors we never perceived
she needs better than our
impaired vision as guide
perhaps we should give her a
palette to mix her own paints

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The Boy from the Neighborhood

A sad story that rings with truth…

Butch Dean's avatarWordsmith's Desk

The following story has been published before. The message is important for we never know who we affect by our words and actions. So, this morning I share once more about my friend, Wesley.

 ~~~

I don’t remember much about this boyhood playmate. I was pre-school age and he lived two doors from me. His name was Wesley. I remember his mom and older sister, Midge; they were both nice. His dad’s name was Red. He sat in the front room and didn’t say much at all. Their house was old and weathered, with no paint left on it.

Wesley was very shy, almost afraid to say anything to anyone. He walked with his head down and appeared as if he were trying to be invisible. These traits would be more pronounced as he grew older, but in those preschool days, he was like any other boy. We played together…

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Being Human

This is a really special poem about trust, one that (hopefully) everyone can relate to. Worth the short read.

Paul F. Lenzi's avatarPoesy plus Polemics

"Trust" Painting by Lynn Rushton From dallasartsrevue.com “Trust”
Painting by Lynn Rushton
From dallasartsrevue.com

vulnerability lies
in dependence
reliance is a risk
such is life for
we social beings
biographies told
in tales of trust
joys often tied to
trust reaffirmed
agonies grown
from its painful
miscarriage

but poor is the
life who in fear
closes down from
relationships
withholds its trust
for in final analysis
that is the one
and the only thing
we own of value
sufficient
to let us invest in
that most sublime
human exchange
of risk for reward

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Picnic

So many beautiful creatures in this world…

Paul F. Lenzi's avatarPoesy plus Polemics

Purple Finch - New Hampshire State Bird Photo from a-home-for-wild-birds.com Purple Finch – New Hampshire State Bird
Photo from a-home-for-wild-birds.com sun now cured
of its bashfulness
birds are in frenzy
as days of hard rain
surfaced myriad treats
creepers crawlers and flitters
all jostling for wriggle room
up and down bark
and underneath grass
bright tanagers flycatchers
warblers and jays
robins thrushes and finches
make riotous feast
of a glistening morning
and I in my plainness
sing lucky to live
among so many
colorful carnivores

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