A Hollow Vessel

(A Kab), a hollow vessel, be ye not

For God’s gathering place is Holy

Know ye not that your body is a Holy vessel?

It is a Promised Land, a Home to the Spirit of God!

Be ye not vacant, nor your Spirit in drought

For a vacant house is open to the Master of death

Clean thy thoughts O man, for the Lord knows them

Thy heart knows thy words before they touch your lips.

Please, seek ye purity of heart and of your Soul

There is nothing that we know that was not given before unto us

Kiss the ground and bow thy head O man, walk with eyes wide open

Evil is trying to snare your life and Soul with your every step

Friends we must keep the stoop to our Souls as clean as we can

At the door to our Soul, the Lord Jesus stands knocking

All of our bodies are a Home for a Spirit, either of God or Satan to dwell

If your Soul lacks God, your hollow vessel, all the way to Hell Satan will indwell!

The Beginning Of Sorrows

For those who seek God in all they do

Fear not when you are brought before the judges

When you are beaten and jailed, fear not

Speak what God’s Spirit gives you to speak

These words shall be a testimony against them

Your words will give Spiritual freedom to you

Brother shall for sport, kill their own brothers

Fathers filled with rage shall kill their own kids

You Child, be wise , seek Jesus in all that you do

Fear not even though you will be hated above all people

The Lord fulfilled The Law, now His rest He is taking

Do not live like a fool, await His return through love and faith

Stand fast, live your life with your heart and Soul ruled by love

Before the final Tribulation, horrors we shall all see

Upon the Temple Mount, the Devil will plant His feet

Upon Earth’s skies, no light shall be seen, Evil’s Reign Begins

The Lord will shorten the days or upon the Earth, no Saints to be seen

God’s Holy City, Jerusalem, not one stone shall remain upon another

These Child are the beginning of the Human Race’s greatest sorrows

Now, question your own mind, are these Beginnings what we see now

Where’s The Rope

Where’s the Rope

 

A good piece of string

Will hold most anything

When you’re still crawling round

On your knees and peeing

When you get a little older

Grade school, where now you spend your time

Half a hand of dimes

Will buy you some strong quality twine

My parents let me play with it in any way, any time

Now that I’m a teen

I’m now big, strong, and mean

I can tame a bucking horse with one hand

Yank that bit as tight as I can

Rope tightly in hand, hell yea, I’m the man

Next stone was to be the Brahmas

Talent like mine, you know I gotta spread my fame

Top of my game, gotta go for the Buckle and green

With my butt in a saddle and a rope in my hand

Hell yea, don’t ya know, I’m the man

Now on this stool I stand

Behind my back a rope now ties my hands

One around my neck looped around the rafters above

No matter how big a star you are

You still gotta play by the bookies rules of the game

Or they will hang you and your hat from the rafters above

The Years

Well, if it was 50 years ago from right now, President Kennedy would be getting murdered in about seven hours. I am 57 years old now so obviously 50 years ago today I was seven and I was in second grade in Woodlawn Virginia. I guess that most of us who are old enough remember that day. I was just a little hillbilly kid from the country who was barely passing second grade and was in a household with a very abusive alcoholic dad so my world was very small. When President Kennedy was murdered and the news reached into my life, I didn’t even know what a President was. I know that my Mom was really sad and she explained a few things to me and we did turn on the TV and watch the evening news. So, 50 years ago this evening was the first event that made me look outside of my little entrapment, the first time I had ever even thought of there being anyplace besides the little world I was in.

This anniversary got me to thinking about time, and life, and events within it. My growing up years (10-18) were in Belvidere Illinois, at that time the town had a newspaper called the Belvidere Daily Republican. One of the little sections I liked to read was where they did a section on past events there in Belvidere, it had events from 10, 25, and 50 years ago. I have liked History subjects most of my life so I enjoyed learning things that had happened where I was living in the past. We moved to Cherry Valley Illinois from South Dakota in November of 1966, we only stayed there for three months until we found a better renting situation five miles away in Belvidere. So, we moved there in February of 67 and Belvidere had a F-4 tornado on April 21st of 67. I remember thinking if I would be alive to read those articles about the tornado come fifty years later. Turns out though it is now three years and five months from that anniversary and I have found out that the news paper no longer exists. So, so much for that idea, I guess that I never thought about out living the towns only news paper. But, most assuredly I have a huge amount of mistakes and miss assumptions through out this past fifty years, but as I said, this anniversary got me to thinking about Years, times and events in my life and how quickly they float by us.

I have to admit that for quite a few years now I have wandered if I would live to see this day just as I have wandered if I will still be breathing on April 21st of 2017. About today, I have wandered how the nation would mark this day, the news media and the people of our country. I guess maybe it will mean little to the younger generations as this event at  best was just something they read about in Junior High history classes. But for the people of my age on up I would guess that most of us remember a hurt and a gloom from those days, this event was something that really hurt most people it seemed.

On November 13th of 1973 I quit High School and started working in a factory full time. I had been working several part time and temporary jobs since the summer I turned fourteen when I was de-tasseling corn twelve hours a day seven days a week for $1.35 per hour. But when I started reminiscing of events time tables with my wife a few evenings ago I was a bit shocked about things I already knew but just hadn’t brought them to conscience thought. November 13 of 1973 was just nine days shy of the tenth anniversary of President Kennedy’s murder. That shocked me because of how those ten years had flown by and so much had happened in that short amount of time. My wife asked me the other night how many houses I had lived in by the time I was ten, I had never thought about it before, but the number was twelve in four states, Virginia, Delaware, South Dakota, and Illinois. Realizing all the things that had happened in those short ten years from the murder to that first factory job is a bit startling when I started thinking about it. All the moves, three different states, a lot of different schools and always with my hateful violent Dad looking for any excuse to beat on you. Those are probably why I hadn’t thought about this time span (1963-1973) before. In my mind it seemed like it would have had to  be maybe 15-20 years.

These years that have gone by all of us hold many memories, great and good times as well as horrible decisions, times we have royally been screwed over and the heart ache of losses. I know that it does surprise me that I am still breathing upon this anniversary. I find that future years mean little to me anymore maybe because all my heart doctors have said I should have been dead at least ten years ago. One of the things I have learned is that lightning can royally mess up a persons physical abilities in life, I don’t recommend it for folks, not even some of the real butt heads I have been blessed with knowing in my life. In these years the Lord has given me I have made so many mistakes, I am on my third marriage, the first two were really lousy, I guess that’s why I call the other two x’s.

In my old broken down years I have settled down to one living area,(East Tennessee) almost fourteen years now and on Christmas day I will have been married to a wonder wife for fourteen years. I have four grown up kids, two blood, and seven grand kids, so in many ways the Lord and the years have blessed me. Now, I want you to think, think about your life, the years that have slipped on by you, what are some of your memories of these passing years? Are you old enough to remember fifty years ago today? Where were you, what were you doing? How do you think the murder of President Kennedy has effected you, (after many years of studying this subject matter) I totally believe that President Kennedy and Senator Robert Kennedy were murdered by the NSA, that has been my opinion now for many years. How do you think President Kennedy’s murder has effected the country? How do you think our country would be now if none of the three murders, John and Bobby Kennedy and Doctor Martin Luther King JR, ever happened? This would be a good clearing of the mind in a paper, or short story, or, just for your own deep thoughts.

So, these years, 50 now, what do these years mean to you? Are they just an old movie case in your minds closets? Are they a time that is filled with peace in your life? Or, are they something you have swept out of your memory bank because of hurts you don’t want to ever recall, I hope that this one is not saddled upon any of you. If you get the time drop the Word Press community some of your thought about THE YEARS.

Thank You,

Ted Savage

Water In The Swamp

Water in the Swamp

Water in the swamp

Mister, can you see at night

When you see the water move

Does a chill run up your spine

In the swamp the water is alive

Makes the strongest of men

Cry for their granny of their momma

Bubba chill out, boy can’t you see

Just a cotton mouth chewing on your knee

Beneath the swamps water so black on top

So clear two feet underneath, now you can see

Yes sir, 12 foot gator, now your eye to eye

Now the water in the swamp so dark

Yes Sir Studley, this is where you die

Wagons West

Wagons West

 

Wagon west from Virginia’s foothills

Six kids in the family

Four wheels of wood and steel

Two mules a straining at the whip

Bluegrass Appalachian foothills

Ohio river first then the mighty Mississippi

Cherokee arrows, thankful Lord, they all missed

Camping under the arch, evening sun pointing west

Wagon master hollering, everyone get in line

If the weather holds, and no injuns attack

We should all be at our new home soon

Spearfish Dakota, in about three week’s time

Mr. Custer says is no need to worry about Sioux

Says their running scared of the bugle and the blue

The train, we got six injuns riding point

You can see the hate of us in their eyes

Mr. Custer, on your words

Thirty families risk their lives

We had not yet cleared Nebraska

News came, yellow hair and the 7th

Would ride these plains no more

One more week we made the Black Hills

Land of gold, coal, and lumber

O yes and several thousand Sioux on every side

Now my family and I are all six feet under

In this cold ground we had hoped one day to plow

Twisted And Tangled: The Belvidere Illinois F-4 Tornado

Twisted and Tangled

April 21st, 1967 a day that to me

In my mind, will always live in infamy

This is the day an F-4 tornado

Touched down in our hometown

Killing and injuring so many

Putting a dark spot on the history of our town

Was about four on Friday afternoon

Down the business twenty corridor it came

Striking the Chrysler Plant about shift change

The Pacemaker grocery store

Highland Hospital and the neighborhoods

But the high school with children filled buses

Buses lined up, the tornado’s wrath did vent

Many a white cross where children

Now lay in rest white stones at heads

It’s not just cars and houses

That such storms tangle and twist

The empty desks within the class

Forever a reminder of our friends

And children that we so deeply miss

Oreo The Cat

Oreo The Cat

Just the name brings a smile to my face

Though chocolate and cream filling,

Cookies, dipped in the  milk so cold.

Yet, none of these tasty treats are of what I speak.

Oreo is the name of my all time favorite pet

A plump, double stuffed kitty

Coal black on both sides

With a big white belly to pet.

Offend her, she’ll snub you

Sit facing away, then she might reward you

With a look over her shoulder

Gracing you with her glance.

18 pounds of belly, white tippy toes

And the prettiest green eyes

I have ever seen on a cat.

Grace given, allowed to have her for a pet.

Now cookies are great

Eat enough you might find

You got a belly like Oreo’s,

A dragging behind.

A cat for a pet can be a lot of fun

An angel like Oreo,

Allowing you to live under her roof,

Now, open one more can of tuna,

You know it’s her favorite

So just open it up and get out of her way.

When it comes to her stuffing this sweetheart don’t play!

Multiple Selves

 

 

How many people are you

How many people have you been

Question asked, not speaking of reincarnation

Do we ever question ourselves who is it we be

Do you ever question the places you have been

Do you question now the places you shall soon tread

Go look, search the eyes in your vanity mirror

Who is this person looking back, who is this person I see

Just who in the Hell am I, do not accept lying eyes to see

In this one life with enough years we are all many people

Certainly in the stages of our years this we all will be

Babies, belching, burping, and farting, as we leave the cocoon

Toddlers to teens through Sainthood and sins

All different stages of conscience, memories yet to be

Some of our pain we ingest, most we lay upon others feet

These eyes in my mirror, good, bad, and sickening they see

These lights to our Souls, who today, do they say that we be

This soul looking straight at us created all of our yesterdays

Our yesterdays and our today’s, who do they say tomorrow we’ll be

Passions And Spirits

What are our passions filled with

Deep within the depths of our souls

What resides there, what means the most to us

Are our passions filled with dark secrets

Secrets that we can never share or let out.

Are our passions dark like the blood of a rose

Are we ashamed of our passions, these secrets

Or, are our passions of ego, that we are ashamed to express

Children, a life without passion is a life hardly lived.

The inner dwellings, the living room or our souls

Friends, who, what, sets in our heart’s Captain’s chair

Who has their hand on the throttle of our heart

Are our passions to the flesh like politics and wealth

On whose shoulder do we lean as we walk through this life?

If we wish to turn our focus away from the flesh

If we wish to be a prophet or a saint

We must follow the quieter path of God’s Spirit

This path is a chartered by how we choose to live

Remember child, the passion of God’s Spirit is not of this world.

The Judgement Seat of Christ awaits us all,

Believers or not, we will all stand there

All of our passions, or the lack their of

Will be made manifest before our very eyes

To all the Hosts of Heaven, Earth, and Hell below

We have no passion, or secret, or deed that won’t be shown.

In the end we shall all have to look into the eyes of Jesus Christ.