Vignettes For You


Originally posted on Grady P Brown - Author:

For as long as I can remember, dragons have always been my number one favorite mythological creature.  I have always admired their size, strength, and unrivaled majesty.  In various fantasy stories, dragons shared a number of traits, such as being able to overpower entire armies or incinerate entire kingdoms.  With such unmatchable power at their disposal, I strongly believe that dragons are living weapons of mass destruction.  I love dragons so much that I decided the main character of my series, Patrick Donovan, would have the ability to generate and manipulate dragon fire.  In addition, I also made Patrick think like a dragon with a personality that operates like a backdraft, normally calm and serene, but when properly provoked, the results are explosive like a backdraft being exposed to oxygen.  Also, a dragon makes an appearance in the second volume, but it is not like the rest of its species…

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If for all good and all love must reign. I refute those who themselves say “There is no God,” because the truth is “There is God,” whether one likes it or not. There is God in everything. There is God in nothing. The proof is all around the marvelous creations of the Divine Omnipotent, death then salvation. See the world. Study history. Feel art. Breathe now!


Encounters With Nothingness

If for all good and all love must reign. I refute those who themselves say “There is no God,” because the truth is “There is God,” whether one likes it or not. There is God in everything. There is God in nothing. The proof is all around the marvelous creations of the Divine Omnipotent, death then salvation. See the world. Study history. Feel art. Breathe now!
Texts written, researches conducted, culture lived from time to time, and the modern life, link with each other at certain points of evolution and growth. Here, in the 21st century, the Holy Spirit of God even touches closely in the advancement of technology.
Eliot’s “Hollow Man,” Hemingway’s “A Clean, Well-Lighted Place,” and Sherwood Anderson’s “A Story-Teller’s Story,” among others, are expressions about life. These are schools of thought. These are opinions which can be true or false. These are sentiments. These are ideas. They are creative processes.
These are good ideas to mull over and act on to find benefits for the human race; benefits and charity for everybody.
The essay of Gordon E. Bigelow (noted Professor of American Literature) about “A Primer of Existentialism,” shows valid concepts for any contemporary writer. It also extends to the godly and ungodly human. He adds about Hemingway’s A Clean, Well Lighted Place: it goes without saying that much of the despair and pessimism in the other contemporary authors springs from a similar sense of the void in modern life.
The encounters with nothingness in some texts and the modern life are common. It only becomes different in the chariot of reason and faith. Even Mother Teresa of Calcutta has moments of emptiness, which she admitted. Even saints or Job in the Holy Bible has the same predicaments.
Everything is usually tangible. For anyone, an encounter with everything can easily be comfortable.
Nothingness is a void. For some, nothingness can be dangerous as in Nietzsche’s anguish. But who can judge him totally?
In another sense, it is total surrender. Sometimes it is humility. Sometimes it is totally being with a Divine like Jesus Christ’s last words on the cross “Father, why have you forsaken me?”
Moreover, “In the beginning God created the sky and the earth. The earth was empty and had no form. Darkness covered the ocean, and God’s Spirit was moving over the water (Genesis 1:1-2).
One of my poems, “Dead Fire” states: Love comes so beautiful after wars, when everyone can drink freely, when there is peace, and I am nothing but dust and chipping coals begging the skies.”

/rosevoc2 posted september 22, 2014
/photo from fr. angelo mezzari,rcj

Originally posted on The Sophomore Slump:


This post is part of Special Report.


I’m infected. I am cursed! I am held captive by this powerful force.


The change of seasons, heat of passion, the cry of a baby upon entering this world. Something in me I cannot control.


I become invisible. I become free. I am a moving train. Unstoppable. No. Nobody. Nothing can just stop me.


Avoidance will only weaken me. Try tying me up in shackles and chains, but this raging urge will sum up all the strength to let me be.


Hyper. Caffienated. Androgenic. High-strung. Heated. Battery always in full charge. I am  …….. on fi—re!


Hercules. Superman. Goliath. Jessica Alba. No. All they can do is delay me. Nothing more, nothing less.


No drug can cure this disease. No shrink can fix this madness. No amount of electrity can measure up to this energy that is coursing through my veins.


And when…

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Prayers In Various Forms

We were all taught and asked to pray to seek God if our upbringing was good enough. As we got older we made our own prayer discoveries and imitated those good examples we saw from saints, elders, clerics or teachers.

In pictures or statues we saw saints with clasped hands, raised arms, bowed heads, folded knees, lingering faces or hands on chest or rib cage. In adoration, we kissed walls, the ground or venerate images to make concrete a deep longing for God, which sometimes no word could ever describe, but the act of kneeling, bowing or touching the image and holy ground.

Some said that prayer is a word with complex meanings like having different levels of prayers, like having diverse sets of litanies and more sundry like analysis, equation or a set of rules.

Way back in the past at St. Martin church in Manila, I marveled about a woman, who chanted incessantly a prayer while she touched sick people. I said, “Is she like a saint who can heal?” There was a long line of church goers and sick people and my Dad said that we have to line up and be blessed by her praying hands. It was requested that when it was your turn, you had to close the eyes. The kid in me got curious when she started to touch me. I only half-closed my eyes and I saw how she prayed earnestly and full of faith.

In the Black Nazarene and Mother of Perpetual Help churches, there were a lot of people who walked the isles on knees. Again, I mulled over “Why do they have to do that? Is there power and more grace in kneeling? Is it a race of pleas and first one in?”

During my first time to leave the country for work abroad, I tried the knee walk to the altar. I dared my questions to get the answers. It was nothing grand during the process of kneeling heading to the altar because the thought was chanting Hail Mary. Energy was bursting and after I reached the end point, I felt the arduous pleading of my own heart, assured and blithe in God’s grace and love.

See this example from 1 Corinthians on love. You may substitute the word prayer to the word love and see how prayer and love can almost mean the same.

Prayer is very patient and kind, never jealous or envious, never boastful or proud, never haughty or selfish or rude.

Prayer does not demand in its own way.

It is not irritable or touchy.

It does not hold grudges and will hardly even notice when others do it wrong.

It is never glad about injustice, but rejoices whenever truth wins out.

If you pray for someone you will be loyal to him no matter what the cost. You will always believe in him, and always stand your ground in defending him.

All the special gifts and powers from God will someday come to an end, but prayer (love) goes on forever.

In John, Jesus replied “The time is coming, when we will no longer be concerned about whether to worship the Almighty Father here or in Jerusalem. For it is not where we worship that counts, but how we worship. Is our worship spiritual and real? Do we have the Holy Spirit’s help? For God is Spirit, and we must have his help to worship as we should… “



/photo by jonathan flores

Originally posted on News:

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Dragon Riders

An Ode to God’s Eyes

An Ode to God’s Eyes
By rosevoc2

They look at the globe
See the world
Hold the earth
Rain the universe
Fire the kingdom
Blow daze in the horizon
Balls of the earth
Those pupils in God’s eyes
Are the stars of my memory.

/theme poems.www.readwritethink

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