6-08-13
My dreams tell me that I am becoming famous. And it seems it may be. I’ve been told that I’ve been called to lead the nations. Let’s see if it is true.
There are things in my life that are too personal to journalize. I pray God forgives my sin and finds me worthy of what He has called me to do.
A Perfect Kiss
A perfect kiss,
dawn’s sweet mist.
The still waters
at early light.
Lighting a candle
in the quiet of an empty church.
Sheltering a wounded bird.
A glass of wine on a Sunday afternoon.
Music that binds, in love.
Swimming in a cold mountain lake.
The song of a thrush.
Lips to lips, for just a moment.
And I am forever changed.
8-03-03
August, very busy with the business.
Customers are paying well. I just bought a new truck.
I have to pace myself. Get to bed early. Sundays off. I’ve got three promotions planned, as the need arises. One thousand post cards, that Sandy had printed for me. Ralph had mailing labels done. Also, I’ve found a lot of work on fliers that I’ve circulated in the Maplemere area. The Jewish Center circulates a weekly paper produced by the same people that print our church bulletins.
Also, I have nine collages in a show later this month. And my first children’s book, “Froggy Monster” is ready to publish. We’re looking for a publisher.
Mom and Dad are well. Dad is now eighty one. Mom will be seventy six this month.
I’m typing all the children’s material out of my journals. So onward we go. Having to turn down customers, and bow out of my therapy groups. I’m bearing a lot of anxiety, but also ecstasy.
Then Mikelee begins to sing,
hear now the call of destiny.
Lifting light, yes lifting.
And a new eternity.
Spinning now, into a dance.
He calls down his powers three.
A plea, a prayer, a choice, a chance,
the dance of Mikelee!
Give your life to prayer.
Yea, each day times three.
In truth, in trance, in earth, in light,
the way of Mikelee.
Earth and air, tell no lies.
Water, fire, wood.
From the highs of Paradise,
Mikelee the good.
When hunting deer,
never head shoot.
The deer needs
a moment of consciousness
to translate into
the higher realm. Heaven.
If you wound a deer,
it is ok to finish
with a head shot.
But the shot should be
at the base of the skull.
There are rules
for harvesting all things.
Fish , corn, deer, all things.
Whenever you kill,
and to a lesser extent consume,
whenever you kill anything,
it’s past life spirit
must be dealt with.
A prayer of thanksgiving
is essential.
The key is prayer.
In free and active prayer,
many unnamed and unknown problems
are eliminated.
Problems that undealt with,
will cause illness.
Now, if you’ll excuse me,
I must go and worship our God.
Whenever you kill an animal,
you must deal with its spirit.
Harvest humanely,
with prayers of thanksgiving.
But you may kill insects and bugs
without rituals.
They are a different form of life.
Just as you and I,
God and man,
are different forms.
Let homosexuality
be translated
into the fire of the sun.
Beyond sin.
Into painless light.
Ecstatic, painless, infinite.
Let it exist within the earth realm
never, ever, again.
May all men and women
be blessed with,
and cultivate
sinless sexual purity, self control.
Crystals and a prayer table
will help translate
energies upward,
and down from Heaven,
more quickly.
Sex and sex partners
must be translated upward, as well.
Marriage helps in this.
Friends and friendships, as well.
It is possible to live
a Biblically pure life.
However, we must live
in closer contact and harmony
with nature
for this to be so.
The earth, and all it contains
belongs to the Lord.
Be in constant prayer.
9-23-03
At long last! A few hours of solitude in which I can truly rest. I’m down at camp. I saw Billy off to Florida two hours ago. Right now I’m sitting in a tuft of grass in the big field across the road. I spread 18 rag decoys. They’re fluttering in the wind.
Two Saturdays ago Billy and I were out here. We were bombarded by hundreds of geese, flying in from all directions. As if we were at the center of a huge vortex. Geese were locking onto our dekes from a mile or more away. They were coming in low, circling, and passing by again. We took four beautiful birds, which will make good eating.
We came back the next morning. A few birds flew over. Bill hiked over to the marsh where they were gathered. There he fluttered his coat. The whole lot of them, hundreds, took to the air in tight formation. They did not break up into small groups. The entire flight disappeared over the horizon. There has not been a goose in the area since. So I sit here in contemplation, looking up occasionally. Blessed to be.
I’m ready for hunting season. My bow and arrows are ready. I’m sighting in a scoped twelve gauge for deer season. However it kicks like a mule. it’s hard to handle. Also I’m setting up a new Italian made in-line muzzle loader. It’s a fine gun. Destined to become one of my favorites. it’s a fuss to clean, but handles well.
I ordered a new gun safe from Read Head. I hope it’s been delivered by now, and will be there when I get home.
Back at home, business has been good. I’ve worked my way into a new Chevy van. It’s really, really nice. My bills are all paid. And my bank balance is where it needs to be. I’ll need to bank 1,500.00 more by January first to meet the requirements of the slow winter season. I’ve got a good list of regular customers going. And getting better paid these days.
Kara, one of my customers has become very dear to me. Last week, when I visited her, she explained that I must overcome the anxieties I so often bear. Especially around groups of people. Well, I feel afraid when I’m alone too. It’s a scourge. I’ve begun to pray for courage. I’m forcing myself to do those things that unnerve me. I should tell Kara that I love her. That would take courage.
Mom and Dad are leaving on their twelfth cruise. I thank God for their health.
My strength is constantly regenerating. Despite the work load. I’ve had a sore throat, which will pass soon.
I’m checking out the Assembly of God church. I’d like to know what their pastoral studies involve. I’ve been missing the college days, and the formal learning process. There is a master of art education degree program at Empire State College that sounds very interesting.
The sun sets in one hour and twenty minutes. Not a goose in the sky. I don’t have to go back until late tomorrow. I’ll have time to pray and write. I’m working on a story poem about a gnome named Mikelee.
Fri. 11-09-03 10:00am.
It’s been an interesting hunting season, so far. Billy and I took several geese. The weather has been inclement. From rainy to windy to very cold. With only a few nice days.
I took a deer, with a bow, at Cartwright’s. I single lung hit, and lost another up at Johnny Rolison’s. It was only ten feet away. My mind was saying “it’s close, an easy shot, you got it”. It should have been saying, “find the exact hair, behind the shoulder. Draw, release, follow through”.
I drew and misfired an arrow at Johnny’s as well. Trying to work the bow around in heavy cover.
I’ve set up for geese twice more since our great day at Ayer’s. Little and nothing.
This morning, being the last day of this trip, I went squirrel hunting. I took one rabbit and three squirrels. I hit and lost a fourth squirrel. Same mistake. My mind is playing “it’s close, an easy shot”. While it should be saying “find the exact aim”.
I ducked into the woods just a half hour ago. I had my 20 gauge single loaded with sevens. A big beautiful buck came by, and stopped, only forty feet away. I raised my gun and pulled back the hammer. But gun season is still ten days away. I thought that I would kill a deer early, if I had the chance. But all morning I’ve been contemplating what killing a deer early would do to one’s peace of mind. The deception involved, the illegality, the assault on one’s inner peace, peace of mind.
I really, really want to kill one more deer this year. I do not abide by the law freely and openly, but because I hate to lie and deceive. Now, I know I could get away with it. But the consequences are weighty if one spins less than a perfect lie.
All morning I’ve been considering the monastic orders. Reapplying to Mount Savior. Checking out the Franciscans. Saint Francis was a great lover of animals. How the Franciscans, when they visited our church last week seemed so fresh and full of life. Letting that buck live elevated me. It was freeing mentally, spiritually.
Deer hunting is a culture. Hunting and success in the hunt is an idol to many. For me it is important to maintain my daily times of reading, meditation and prayer.
Back to the buck I just passed on, it’s moments like these that define a man. Hunting laws are man’s laws, not God’s laws. And part of me wonders if I am a fool. For such perfect opportunities come so seldom. As if the opportunity was a gift from Heaven. And I disservice myself by obedience to such laws. There are so many deer that overpopulation has become a problem. Is it right or wrong to uphold unneeded and perhaps unfair laws?
Nevertheless, I passed up an opportunity to kill an illegal buck last year. And did the same today. My actions in the woods are telling me there are laws I do not want to break. It’s too hard on the nerves, the peace of mind.
Wildlife Tally – This hunting season:
Wren, junco, chickadee, white throated sparrow, downy and epilated woodpecker, doves, grouse, turkey, chipmunks, red, fox, and grey squirrel, skunks, raccoons, vultures, owl, falcon, hawk, bald eagle, blue jays.
Point Blank. Am I cowardly for not killing deer illegally? Or am I prudent, using my best judgment? Will there be a bloody war here in our homeland? Or will we find peace and true justice?
11-09-03
I am attempting to describe a phenomenon. I will, for want of better words, call it “psychic fusion”. I will give an example or two.
Cousin Greg and I had a pressing project to complete, out in the garage. We looked high and low for the saw we needed, and began to get frustrated. As cousin Terry entered, to see how things were going, Greg’s eyes fell on the saw we needed. We completed the project, and all was well.
Here’s another example. Cousin Billy lost his keys, and asked if I’d seen them. I stepped back, and made a short mental prayer. As I did this, Billy felt a vibration in his pocket. There were the keys.
Here’s another example. I was in crises for a replacement automobile. I needed help, and needed it that day. Sister Sandra happened to be in town. She effortlessly found the vehicle I needed. She merely opened the paper to the classifieds, and her eyes fell upon an add for the right truck. It was for sale only a mile away. ‘ I call this “fusion”, for it is minds coming together. And in coming together, what is needed is created. It won’t occur with just any people, in any situation. It occurs when people of light come together. And conscious prayer is not always needed. Energy, Christ Spirit shared is what makes it happen. Faith, friendship, and love is what makes it happen. And this manifestation could become fantastically powerful. The potential of this phenomenon is no less than the power of true miracles. it is the genesis of life.
11-19-03
The hunting is coming well. I was at mass on Saturday night. The pastor, John Cullins, made an invocation to Saint Eustace, the patron saint of hunters.
On opening morning of deer season, I was sitting in the woods. As I began an invocation, a nice buck came winding down the trail. I shot, and the buck ran. I waited an hour, and then went to look for a blood trail. After a while I found the trail, which led me to the buck. I was filled with gratitude.
Then on day two of the season I harvested another beautiful deer, having continued my Heavenward supplications. Today is rainy. The road is slick with mud. On my way back from the butcher this morning, I went into a slide, and almost went into the ravine. That would have been bad. I absolutely must put an aggressive set of snow and mud tires on the front end. ASAP.
11-28-03
it’s raining again today. The deer have been skittish. Haven’t seen a deer in days. Mom’s anxious for me to return to my regular schedule.
I’ve been thinking that I do not want to continue earning my way with hard physical labor. My art, musician’s skills, and writing are all on a professional level. Why am I not finding a way to succeed in these areas? What am I missing?
Well, I missed a point blank shot at a nice doe. Boy was I upset. It would have been deer number four, this year.
Bill had asked me to clean his shot gun, and muzzle loader, before heading home. As I cleaned his shot gun, passed down to him from his dad, my uncle, I could see it was a well thought out weapon. The action, the sights, the balance and feel. The shortened stock and light weight. I was tempted to take it with me. The sights alone put it in a class of its own.
I went back to the blind, one more time. A doe came through, and stopped behind a fat tree. I raised the gun as she came into the clear and stopped. I made sure of my aim and fired. A perfect shot. She’s hanging outside, split and cooling.
I promised Mom I’d go home with one more kill. I leave for home tomorrow. And we’re about out of heating fuel.
I took four deer this year, with ten days left in the season. Tonight I sit as a victorious hunter, and need to kill no more.
12:30 pm. 12-16-03
Well, the season’s last gun is today. It is with sadness I bid the season good bye. I’ve taken four deer, and done much sharing. Now it’s time to prepare Christmas presents.
I know the uncut corn up at Cartwright’s is going to be full of deer tonight. I can almost guarantee myself a shot. But I must turn my attention to other things.
I’m setting up to do the floors at Columba Brigit over the Christmas recess. Equipment, supplies, and employees must be lined up.
I thank God for a safe and successful time in the woods. My heart is full of gratitude.
Jan. 1st, 2004
The Christmas season has gone well. The floors and carpets at Columba-Brigit have been successfully done. It took about eight days, and about sixty five man hours. I’ll clear about 1000 dollars.
My worker disappeared after his first payday. He evidentially went on an alcoholic binge, and dropped right out of the picture. I had to complete the job alone. Probably spent 25 hours on my knees.
The girls all came for the Holiday. Sue and Sandy and Judy. Also their children, Anna, Katie, Fia and Vin. Aunt Jen, Sid, Seth, and Zac, as well. On the 26th, Tony, Dolly, and Nancy came for dinner. Mom and Dad spent six weeks shopping and wrapping presents. Mom went all out on the food preparations. Lasagna, turkey, chicken soup, copunata, cranberry, salad, cookies, and pies. Relish tray, wine, beer, champagne, and coffee.
Right now I’m sitting in the emergency room with Mom. Her back has been in spasms. Today, her arm went numb. Dad and I drove her to Millard Suburban. As we wait for help, her pains seem to be lessening. I think she overdid it, making Christmas perfect for everyone.
My income for the year will work out to about 3000.00 dollars. So I have to be pretty thrifty with the money.
The hunting season went well. There’s plenty of venison in the freezer, with squirrel and geese.
Jan 3rd, 2004
Now is the beginning of a new year. It’s a good time to scrutinize one’s life, and take a look at how things are going.
When all the numbers were done, my net for the year was modest at most. But my bills are all paid up to date. I’m driving a new truck, my equipment is all in good repair. And most of all, I am healthy.
But, I want more. I could do nothing. Just work, pray, and practice the piano. Do artwork and work on poetry, as I have for years. And wait for some great windfall from God.
Right here.
Right now.
I ask you God, to watch over me,
and guide my path.
Holy Spirit, lead me.
Please give me the strength, courage, and wisdom,
to follow you.
That I might blessedly guide, and serve others.
Bless the young people, Lord,
for they are the future of the world.
Winter is here. Should I take piano lessons again? And play out at rest homes. Should I read poetry at the open mics? Should I teach art to the kids at Columba Brigit? Another art project? Start a Bible study?
Shall I apply again for a paid position at the State Hospital? Join a monastery? Go to ESC for their art ed degree? Or to Paul Smith’s for eco-tourism? Wanakena for ranger school? Hook up with a local theatre? Get a studio at Tri-Main, and link up with the big time? I could do a major white stone, smoke up and see. But in smoking reality changes.
I’m counting on the use of Billy’s camp as a getaway. However, with Billy’s illness, there is no certainty there. I’m checking out radiant propane heaters. It would be good to outfit the camp for mid winter use. It would be good to get snowed in there with a pretty girl, food, fire wood, and my art supplies. It would be good to have a woman here, upon whom I could base my meditations.
I’m moving toward setting up a pc with a word processor.
Can I write a poem that can change a life? I can. Remember, it all stems from the inner man, the spirit, the soul. Keep the spirit clean and strong. All else is secondary.
But I’m distracted. There’s a pretty girl, alone, just fifteen feet from me. I’d like to talk to her. But what could I say that would generate a welcome, warm response?
Song
The pulse,
the heartbeat of life.
Essential nutrients,
carried by life’s blood.
Weather’s cold, or heat,
hatred or love.
Healing a body,
breaking a chain.
Harmony’s sweet company.
Spring’s hope.
Summer’s bloom.
Fall’s sorrow.
Winter’s barrenness.
Rhythm,
language of heart and soul.
Heart’s touching,
Hand’s touching.
or breaking down a wall.
Freedom alive,
behind steel bars.
The power,
and magic,
of song.
Valentine
A kiss.
Dawn’s damp mists.
Still waters, the loon, the fawn.
Lighting a candle,
in quiet dark.
a taste of wine, a song.
Eagle over the mountainside.
The song of the thrush.
A towering pine.
Lips to lips.
Heart to heart.
And I am forever thine.
Going Home
One of life’s sweet sorrows is the last day of visiting a fishing destination. Breaking down the poles, and packing up the tackle is an emotional moment. I would spend a little time in Florida, in the winter, with Mom and Dad. And have to return to the frozen north, all too soon.
Sweet, sweet feeling.
Breaking down the poles.
Packing up the tackle.
Good bye to friendly souls.
Sad, sweet moments.
Packing up the gear.
Thankful for the fish I caught,
and the friends I hold so dear.
Thankful for the warming sun.
and the gentle breeze.
The tide comes in, the tides go out,
the wonder of the seas.
The fish that hit, and break the line,
the fish that get away.
The fish that wind up on my plate,
at the end of the day.
Put away the tackle box,
the buckets and the nets.
The camera is full of memories.
The shore, and orange sunsets.
Back to the frozen North.
To the land of snow I’ll fly.
Winter coats, and hats and boots.
But I’ll be back, bye and bye.
Goodbye fair waters.
So long, oh dock and sea.
May winds of fortune bring me back,
as they blow so free.
Goodbye for now, good friends.
So long, oh bay and sea.
May heavens winds be at my back,
for all eternity.
May heavens winds be at my back,
and blow me back to thee.
4-17-04
I’m sitting at a coffee house tonight. I’ll take a little time to bring this journal up to date.
The winter has been long. For the first time, I had to borrow money to pay bills. Worrying about money, I’ve been training to be a sales person for ADT security systems. However I’ve found making sales to be impossible.
However Proulx’s have work for me. Also I stopped over at St Pius, and Father Yeingst has a landscaping project for me. At the end of the month, Greg and Tina have work for me down at Greg’s camp in Wiscoy. I should be able to pay back the money I borrowed, and earn enough for next month’s bills. If a do a little serious promoting. I should be able to be on top of things by October 15th. The magical first day of bow season.
5-22-04
The landscaping at St Pius has been keeping us busy. Joe Fricano, from the Catholic congregation, has been working with me, and doing quite well. So far we’ve done the beds around the rectory, and the parish center. They’re ready for annual flowers. We’ve also moved twenty yards of soil, repairing damage done to the lawns by last winter’s snow removal. We’ve blistered hands and feet, and achy bodies, but we’ve got the job done.
I’ll write St Pius’ second invoice tomorrow, and ask for more work. When business is good, it is a grand game, pleasure. But when the money is not coming in, it is gray drudgery.
There is a lot to do around the church, if the pastor keeps us on. Things that have not been tended to in years. We’ve been working hard, and he is happy. One of the ladies of the church, and I have begun dialogue. She visualizes a prayer garden. That would be an interesting project. I brought her bleeding hearts, she gave me lily of the valley.
I went to the knights meeting two nights ago. It went well. I’d like to move closer to the church, so I could be more involved.
Mom and Dad are well. Our gardens on October Lane gradually getting done. Our thoughts are turning to spending a little time in the mountains.
Baby Steps
Baby Steps.
Let me stop by to say hi.
Baby steps.
Here’s some flowers from my garden.
Baby steps.
I’m thinking of you often.
Baby steps.
Do you want to go for ice cream?
Baby steps.
I can help you move that heavy load.
Baby steps.
We’re praying together now.
Baby steps.
Stop by and visit us at home. Have a drink. See how my gardens are blooming.
Baby steps.
An hour together, in an empty church. We light candles.
Baby steps.
I share my vision of changing the world.
Baby steps.
I show you this poem.
Baby steps.
We see eye to eye.
Baby steps.
Not by might, nor by power. But by my power says the Lord.
Baby steps.
Poem
I Went Straight Home
I went straight home.
And didn’t get held up or lost.
Stopped by the church to pray.
Visited the hospital.
And the prison.
Stopped to console a grieving friend.
And this dirty old street person, gave him five bucks.
Dropped by Mom’ and Dad’s. Had dinner. See what needed doing.
Took time to write my sisters.
And the widow down the road, had to see how she’s doing.
It took me a little longer at work. Had to give my best work.
Then I hung out at the coffee house to do this writing. To listen to music, and mingle with friendly people.
Had to bring flowers to a pretty girl.
And visit the cousins, so they know I love them. And my friends, so they know I care.
Then I went down to the woods, where it’s quiet. To listen to the birds.
And the cemetery, to clean Nana’s grave.
And so it goes.
You see I went straight home.
I didn’t get held up or lost.
Sun. 8-08-04 8:05pm.
I’ve been busy with the business. I’ve made good money this year. Now my thoughts turn to getting out in the woods for awhile. I called Lee Foster. His camp is being used. And Billy, my dear cousin, has told me he doesn’t want to see me around.
I’m hoping to buy a piece of land, and build a cabin of my own. But where can I go this summer, this fall? Maybe Cousin Greg will let me use the camp he just bought down near Portageville.
Meanwhile I’ll focus on making money, as money is the great facilitator. However, I’ve had ideas that need to be journaled. Hence this writing.
My first entry tonight is the thought that true prayer is a part of God’s timelessness. God is infinite, eternal. Prayer is oneness with God. God is decency and order. We are protected and provided for, because when we pray, we enter providence and protection created by God’s eternal orderliness. This from a realm beyond time.
My second thought is about the prophesied rapture. Fundamentalists believe that all the holy people, in a single instant, will be snatched up into Heaven. My thought is this, that the rapture is internal. It is the bliss one feels in seeking God’s spirit. Rapture is the internal elevation experienced as one draws near God’s spirit. As one is drawn most deeply into the mystery of God.
My third thought is about storing up Heavenly treasures. Also about the dangers of materialism. A Christian should always be secretly doing good deeds, and privately saying prayers. In ways that no one will ever know. This is called “storing up Heavenly treasures”. There are Christians whose primary goals are things like a bigger house, a more expensive vacation, a better car. There are Christians who will only associate with other moneyed people. And this is a travesty. Jesus himself lived amongst the sick and the poor.
There is a cult within Christianity that essentially describes Jesus as a way to gain worldly riches. This I believe, is a contortion of truth.
The world teaches us to judge others by the measure of their material wealth. And giving little regard to their inward truth or value. This is wrong.
My forth thought is regarding the care of the sick, and the poor. Care of the sick, and the poor, is everyone’s business. Government, churches, charities. Having been disabled, and unable to command a wage, I can say that a disability check can be a good thing. However, let me tell you one thing for certain. The burden of poverty and joblessness is much heavier than the burden of keeping a job or regular occupation.
Number five: I was at a party last weekend. I’m doing well these days, and it shows. I was talking to an old friend. “You’re doing great”, she said. “But remember all those still in the hospital, still lost in depression”.
This comment brought to heart a desire that all my ward mates would experience healing as I have. I desire to bring healing to all those who have suffered as I have.
Idea six: I’m remembering how most all my friends forgot I ever existed after I fell ill. Only the truest of friends stayed with me. One of the worst parts of illness is the abandonment, and aloneness.
Valentines Day Poem
Wama Mama Wama Lama,
Boom Bam Bang.
Bless that girl,
She’s such a pain.
But tell me, Padre,
what you gonna do,
when she blinks and she blushes,
and say I love you?
I may be bewitched,
bewildered, or bemused.
Definitely interested,
involved, and amused.
She bats those baby blues.
And moves so soft and sure.
She shakes that little shapely,
so I can hardly can endure.
She sparks my inner fire,
like a little firefly.
If I can’t hug and kiss her,
I’m surely gonna die.
My little lights ablinkin’,
I’m floating through the air.
I’ll kiss her like a butterfly,
and hug her like a bear.
Somehow I’ll find a way,
to tell her how I feel.
Perhaps our hearts and souls will touch.
And then I’ll close the deal.
Soft music, cake and roses.
A diamond in her ring.
Photographic poses,
and guests that drink and sing.
Then we’ll tour paradise.
The sunny, breezy shore.
Hand in hand, heart in heart.
Together, evermore.
Yes, she’s such a little imp,
trouble, pest and pain.
Wama mama wama lama,
boom bam bang.
But tell me dear padre,
what are you gonna do,
when she blinks and she blushes,
and says “I love you?”
But tell me dear padre,
what are you gonna do,
when she blinks and she blushes,
and says “I love you?”
