Monday, May 17, 2010


There is always a price to pay, always. I have written before on this price - the cost of things – the sacrifice. It appears sacrifice is a central feature of the spiritual walk. I hate that. I am not sure why I hate that but I know it is my task to demonstrate something connected to sacrifice, to lay this work on God’s lap. I came into this life to do the work of gathering the case, just like a lawyer. I will not make the case this side of death. I will not settle things before I pass.

If I were to say it today, I would say there is entirely too much pain on the planet now. To increase or extend the pain for any reason, even holy sacrifice is not right. I know all the way down to my soul that things cost too much. The cost of living is too steep. If I were to say it today, that is what I would say, and I don’t mean it personally because my life is not so painful. However, I am immature yet and I know that I am making an immature case. I do not have enough information, though I know I am not the only one to come to such a realization. Buddhism for example says all life is suffering, the First Noble Truth. That is too steep a cost. Christianity says Christ chose to die for my sins. That too is too steep a cost. I will die for my own sins as is my obvious duty.


I squat by the pit
filled with coals, ready to walk,
to prove my freedom
from the pain of things.
You whisper to me the chant
I must speak within
my heart as I walk.
I still myself. Coals glow red,
so do my sore eyes.

May 19, 2009 9:20 AM


  1. You should publish your poetry, Christopher. You have a whole book of spiritual poems and another of love poems, if you decided to separate them that way. I really think there's an audience for these.

  2. If I were getting perhaps 600 hits a day here I might agree with you, Karen. I am only getting 20. Not enough of you return after coming by once or twice, not for a readership of that nature.

    I caught on to the demographic some time ago. I relaxed into just doing what I do. I have the poems all printed out in first draft sequentially, six to a page. I could send off to someone fairly easily, but as it stands I don't have the time for the editing process. I still have to make a living and it takes all my energy.

    I haven't sat at the music keyboard to practice my music for days now, nor have I written very many new poems these days. After my work and my daily stuff there is too little of me left.

  3. Do we fill you Christopher, we twenty? Do we give something to fill the little that is left? It is for me, on mine, how it works. Empty and fill...rapids, not still.

    I loved the monologue today...absolutely! You gave me a gift, yet again. Perhaps I can send cookies...unbaked, thus immature, as a show of gratitude, and solidarity :)

  4. Annie, considerably less than twenty leave any comments. :)

    I am doing okay. I would like a mate, but I don't need a mate. I would like to retire. I don't have the money to retire. I can go on. I am doing all right. My discontents are minor at this time. That has not always been the case. I know I will have harder times in the future. If I keep my focus narrowed on my life now, I am doing all right.

    No cookies, please :)

    I am pleased you find something here, Annie.

    Wordverification says horsenzi.
    Send some horse sense please.

  5. What the hell is horse sense??

    I hope it's not like matter from the south end of a north bound horse.


The chicken crossed the road. That's poultry in motion.

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