Friday, August 27, 2010

Fallen Soldiers Tribute

Art, Music, VideoNo Comments »

The post below came from my Website http://paxvillage.com/ I am thinking about building a new website and wanted to put my blogs here where I started blogging so I would not lose them in a process of changing over and they would still be available for reading.

Tribute to fallen soldiers.

This video was produced by Ben Quick in Hartsville SC. He is also responsible for the production of the Video of “Winter Sun” that was written and performed by Tom Hodge and I wrote about in my last Blog. Ben is also a talented Artist, Sculpture, Photographer, and Wedding Video Producer. He has sold some of his art and prints and is gaining a local reputation for his many talents.

Original Painting by Ben Quick.

Photo Retouch

ed check background Wall Photo for Ben

SC Garnet & Black Yard State This was hand carved and then cast in Aluminum and painted. They are each one of a kind. It is a very labor intensive process

Winter Sun by Tom Hodge

Music, VideoNo Comments »

Tom Hodge singing “Winter Sun” from his CD “Shadows and Light”. Tom is a singer,writer, musician,teacher,and seeker and my kid brother. You can find a link to his work on Youtube as “bucktoothclam”. This Video was produced for me by Ben Quick at Shamrock Production. He can be found on Youtube as “fxpirate”

I started Pax Village to promote and showcase the work of local musical talents and other arts and art production . I decided the first in the Showcase would be my youngest brother who is a musician and entertainer and local talent in the Bellingham , Washington area. He also teaches music at a local College

Ben Quick is the producer of this Video and does work in the Hartsville and Florence, SC area. He is himself an artist and an excellent Photographer and Video Cameraman and producer. I will feature more of his work later.

Poetry by Wesley Andrade

PoetryNo Comments »

Constantly, be only

by Wesley Andrada

to drive the endless dirt road
to solicit kisses as a toad
to grow so slow and old
to be a flame and stone cold.

to constantly pack and never leave
to live a funeral and never grieve
to climb that tall greasy pole
to fly the white flag i loathe.

to feel safe on the front lines
to be jealous of road signs
to only notice what confuses
to be a broken tool with a million uses.

to only see the top on the way down
to need sunglasses to watch brown
to need a ladder to reach the ground
to wear a bandage as a crown.

copyrighted 2009 Wesley Andrade

I find this poem to be Lyrical and Searching

William Hodge

Fortunately Weak

by Wesley Andrade

neath the black slag
of quick dug holes,
lay the abandonded
skulls, that once smiled
cozy, mid-western ideals.
mouse hole heads
bobbing and bouncing
with ernest religion.
a gentle, touching hand.
the soft familar, smiling
eyes of a trusted family member.
who loved me,
but not themselves.
now the years have
have melted their
expoited brain tissue.
i finally love them
cause i finally love me.
but they are just chunks
of flesh, razored to pieces.
empty, walking vessels
of lies and pain.
the total shame
and embarrasment
of waiting
for what will never be
has tailored the cheap
uncomfortable leisure suit,
they persistently wear with
arrogant pride.
their eyes never touch me
warmly anymore.
just cold, socket rocks.
their heads still
bobbing and bouncing
like lifeless dummies.
ignoring the pain
has become the religion itself.
im so fortunate
i was never strong enough
to ignore
that much
pain.
copyrighted 2009 Wesley Andrade

Wesley Andrade is a young poet that impressed me both with his command of eclectic styles and word pictures evoking provocative emotion. This poetry is meant for a new book he is preparing for publishing. I am grateful he allowed me to share them with my readers.

With Reguards to Rudolph.

Poetry, Political1 Comment »

Neil Bates, one of my Circle of Friends on Facebook, posted politically inspired poem by his mother Joanne on my FB page.
Because Healthcare is a passion of mine and I liked the poem, I asked Neil to let me post it on my Blog Site. He was gracious enough to consent.
******************
With Regards to Rudolph

by Joanne Bates

Barack, our first black President,
Figured he was Heaven sent.
Vowed not to follow the norm,
But to pull off Health Care Reform.

Obama, with your brain so bright,
Won’t you lead us in this fight?

On a snowy winter’s night
Flakes were falling fast and light.
Demos snagged the 60th vote,
Now Repubs can’t rock the boat.
But will the abortion concession
Reconcile with House legislation?
A final vote on Christmas Eve
May decide what gifts we’ll receive.

Obama is happy but wary,
Hoping to finish work in January.

We are weary of this drama
But one thing is sure, President Obama.
With Health Care Reform victory
You’ll go down in history.

The Virtue of Self-Righteousness

Philosophy, Poetry, ReligionNo Comments »

I originally posted this on my Hubpages Blog but decided to move some of my work to my new website because I need to add content to make the site functional. I hope you enjoy it again if you have already read it.

Self-righteousness is a feeling of smug moral superiority[1] derived from a sense that one’s beliefs, actions, or affiliations are of greater virtue than those of the average person.

Confident of one’s own righteousness, esp. when smugly moralistic and intolerant of the opinions and behavior of others.

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

It is time to change the old standard of self-righteousness. Moral standards are always acted upon from within. While the religious may give allegiance to moral standards created outside of themselves, they always act (in the long term) on the values that they accept internally. Then when They fall short of the external standard they call it sin. They either humbly repent and promise to submit to the will of the external provider of moral values. Or the proclaim “The Devil made me do it “.

All men do not accept the premise that morals and ethics are external absolutes that are handed down by the God of your choice. The very fact that various God concepts and differing moral and ethical declaration have been conceived of demonstrates the subjective value of righteousness. It follows that self-righteousness is the only valid righteousness that the individual can act upon. To act otherwise is to deny self and therefore existence.

I am Self Righteous

I am Self Righteous.
What else could I be?
I have no God
Speaking to me.

I am Self Righteous.
What else could I do?
I depend upon thinking
to know what is true

I am Self Righteousness
What else could I be?
That which is within
Is what defines me.

I am Self Righteous.
What else could I do?
I could not be me
and to self not be true

by William Hodge

Copyright © 2009 William H. Hodge.

Sonnet To a Rose

PoetryNo Comments »

Sonnet to a Rose

Published for posterity

This Sonnet was written by me for my Wife more than forty one years ago as a kind of wedding gift. We still have the original hand written copy. I first posted it on my blog http://www.lasthandwillie.blogspot.com/ for the sake of posterity. I am publishing it again because I want to move things that have long term importance to my to my own Website I am not a serious Formal Poet so I don’t pretend that it is a Masterpiece. But I am ready to share it with any who might care for no better reason than Romance.

Sonnet to a Rose

Sweet Rose, Symbol of fragrance and beauty
Shed every rainbow hue save lonely blue
Kiss the early morn. Sate your thirst with dew.
Seek the warm rays of the Sun by Dawns Decree.
Share your sweet nector with the bumble bee.
when there he comes to seek his fill of you.
The life he brings will make you live anew With that life do lovers do their duty.
For with this rose,the symbol of my love
I offer wrapped in dreams of my desire.
To one who fills the depth of soul in me.
With touch of its soft petals,I conspire
To win her Heart and all her Love acquire.
Sweet sweet Rose…symbol of this lovers plea.

Copyright © 2004 William H. Hodge All rights reserved

—————————————————————————————————————————–
This short piece was not written by me and I never learned the name of the author. But I liked it enough

to include it.

To me, you are a delicate Rose
Whose beauty never dies
When pressed between the pages
Of a good book;
Or caught between the pages
Of my mind.
- Unknown Author

Still My Rose

Jean

By Beloved Jean

Spirtual Science

Philosophy, Religion, ScienceNo Comments »

Knowledge becomes Spirtual

This is the story of a young Shaman appretice. Its purpose is to develop the connection between the acquisition of knowledge through observation and the incorporation of knowledge into religious ritual. It is about process and not proof. It represents neither Modern Science or any Established Ritual, but is rather the path from past to present.

The Quest for a Vision

I have served at the feet of our Shaman “Keeper of time” since the sixth year of my life.
This is the sixth year of my service to him and the time of my naming is at hand. There
is a slight chill in the air as I stand before the Keeper of the Children of Night. He rest above the horizon and guides their path across the sky as they flee the coming of the Sun, child of the Creator and Ruler of the Day. The Shaman told me a story about Star of the north who alone stays at rest while all others race across the sky and change their path with the changing of seasons. If you travel a path to seek his home, he will rise ever higher in the sky until he stands overhead and all else will dance in a circle around him.

The larger wandering light of the night called Lunar, who changes faces every thirty passages of the Sun, has changed his face three times since the Sun ruled the longest day. If I face the ruling North Star at the coming of Dawn and raise my arms to form a cross, I will point to the rising of the Sun in the east and the setting of the Sun in the west. When the Sun rules the longest day, it rises more to north. When the Sun rules the shortest day, it rises more to south. Only when the forces of Night and Day are equal does it rise due east.

As the Sun has lost its power to the forces of night, The fruits of the sun have come to maturity. The grain that grows in the valley are being harvested and stored for winter. The Sun and the North Star have marked the time to move with the herds to better pastures to the south away from the coming cold from the north. I have learned from “Keeper of Time” that the Sun and stars and Lunar will mark the passage of seasons and tell us what is yet to come.

Now we travel to the south with the dying power of the Sun, There will be a gathering of Shaman of all the tribes to form the circle of dance to seek knowledge of the spirits by consuming the hidden fruit. This is the year of my passing into manhood and the Shaman I serve will seek of the spirit a naming for his apprentice. If I receive my naming I will be open to more knowledge about the healing herbs and the seeing of knowledge from a new consciousness of the Great Spirit. But that is yet another story and another level of learning.

Copyright © 2009 William

Life Cycle

PoetryNo Comments »

Cycle Of Life

I first published this poem on Hubpages. I am trying to bring some of the things I wrote earlier to my own Web Sight . This is one of those things that I wanted to bring home. I hope you will enjoy it

Cycle of Life
I have loved as much as any man.

I have loved my own life

I have loved Socrates and Zen.

I have loved you my wife.

We shared our bed in pleasure

We have shared it with style

We have shared our bed with purpose

We shared to make a child.

What can I give this child to treasure

My greatest treasure is loving you.

If it has brought me great pleasure

This too my child shall do.

A Social Progressive

Philosophy, PoliticalNo Comments »

These are the things that most of my Friends and I believe.
1. Human Society form “Interdependent” communities in which no member is greater than the whole, nor independent from things that affect it.
2.Every member of the community must contribute to the well being of the community, even if the community has to create a pathway for the individual to contribute.
3. The community owes every citizen a way to earn food, clothing, shelter, education, and Health Care. The method of providing must be tailored to the ability of the individuals without using moral judgments of their worth to society.
4. The community must be aware that a limited number of individuals will not be capable of contributing as much as they consume,but that the intrinsic value of life is enough to sustain their right to existence.
5. Every individual must be given greater reward for greater contribution to the total assets of the community, but the reward must not be so great that it creates an instability in providing for the needs of the whole.

This is where I stand. This is why I spend so many hours writing about the things I value. I have no problem with those who disagree as long as you are not Disagreeable.
Pax Village is my intellectual home and you are welcome here. Argue against my concepts with logic, but do not demagogue in my home or you will not be welcome here.

Poetry from my Past

PoetryNo Comments »

Tides

Bad Poems from my Youth
So far I’ve posted two poems since I started on Bloggin One was a Sonnet that I had written as a gift for my new bride more than 40 years ago. It wasn’t all that creatively good but the structure, timing,and rhyme pattern was Shakespearean correct. Beside, It was romantic and my wife said she liked it at the time.
The other one, “Poetry: Rushing to the Sea”, was actually quite good. I was overcome with enthusiasm. I thought, all I have to do is go through my old poems from my college days and I have a bunch of hubpages. Wrong! Oh so very wrong. All I had was a folder of yellow pages.
Out of all that left over labor from my misguided youth I found only one stanza in a five stanza poem titled “Tides” that had any merit.
Not being a wasteful person I decided to write a new poem around what was left of the old one

THE NEW TIDE

Ruled by force from far away
Waves conquer land by night and day
The sound of battle begins to roar
The surge of water comes to shore

Many Things pull it apart
Subdue its current, Erase its start
Slowly return from whence it came
To build its strength to come again.

In and out through endless time
In and out with endless rhyme
Is this the force that lives in me


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