You came as lightning

We had James dedicated yesterday morning. I read the following poem that I had written. It reflects on his birth and also speaks a lot about God. Hope you enjoy.

You came as lightning

You came as lightning -
brilliant, shuddering;
and the flash from cloud to ground
split the air from the noise
in this room.
And you were here, your image
trapped on this frame, your breath
revealed on this lens, your vast
and open heart on this shutter.

You came as lightning,
when you came,
and the thunder of your coming
filled the air with the noise
in this room.
And you are here, your energy
released in us, your signature
concealed in us, your true
and careful vision at work in us.

Birth Announcement

Here is the image of the birth announcements I just made.
Will you be one of the lucky 99 to receive one in the mail? Maybe, maybe.

(Sorry - Image removed by Blogitor)

More Pics of James

I was instructed by the wife to post more pictures. Maybe some day we'll have Internet access at home and I can do this more frequently.


You might not be able to read it, but his shirt reads: "Future Computer Whiz"

More to come later!

It's a boy!

James Eliot Bessler
7/14/05
12:45 pm
7 lb, 15 oz
21.25 inches

Plenty of hair and as content as rhubarb pie.

POEM: On Walking to My Car Today

The spring air
Crowded with mower music
Sounds sweet as the taste in my nose:

REEEEEEEEEAAAAAARRRRREEEEEEEERREEEE-
REEEEAAAARRRRAARREERRREEEEREEEEEE---
chink!

And over my feet growing
Is the grass and the moon
And danger in every step.

And another thing...

Since when were you self-righteous enough to pick who should belong? We're all sinners, and I the most.

In three and a half months, a son will be born. Are you ready to crown Him?

Joshua King needs to Grow Up

Okay, so does the whole world too!

We're all adults, right? Well, I think most of us are from a legal standpoint. And as adults, you'd think we could conduct ourselves in a manner becoming of adults. Not these childish, petty games. What about the good old days? When you could say whatever you wanted about anyone else and you knew it was okay, because that person was dead, or was going to be, or already was and is now back to life, tormenting the souls at the nursing home? Don't you remember these "good times"?

Remember fire drills in Elementary? The hottest day of the spring and you'd be forced outside. And always, always, it was only a drill. You wished you could see the school burn down in front of your eyes. But if it were to really burn down, you know that standing in a line on the sidewalk was not far enough away. Especially with all the chemicals in the Science room, that school was nothing more than a weapon of mass destruction. I hated fire drills.

And now, here you are, Miss Pretty and Mister Self-centered. Missus Pansy and her husband, Mr. Jerk-off. A big crowd of lame losers sipping punch and refusing to dance. I say, dance. Dance dance dance dance. I'm not a Wesleyan.

I know, why don't I delete the blog? I can erase all my memories too and not have to wonder if anyone is looking at me as a I stand at my picture window in my mom's underwear. How do I look, daddy?

So, in conclusion. Stop whining and grow up. Not just you, Josh (though a speech pathologist could do wonders for you) but all of you, the fire drill instructor, The four lame losers, and especially you, satan. You are just such a puss. Grow up or go home.

The end is near

In the spirit of the ensuing commencement that is upon me, I wish to bless you all with a swift and spontaneous story:

Markle McTinny was on his way to graduation--his graduation--from the Academy of Socially Inept Students. On his way he was and he was now on his way. Stopping to wait for the white hand to beckon him across the street, Markle sneezed. It was a vicious, snap-your-neck-in-half kind of sneeze. Happening to pass by on the street, a Ferrari-driving widow named Noneen Halloqueen stopped suddenly when her windshield was coated in Markle's sneeze-goo.

"How dare you sneeze on my Ferrari?" she pondered, out loud, and erroneously.

"What are you talking about? I'm walking, here!" shouted Markle. Later, he would snicker at the way his voice cracked and trilled. He seemed like a New Yorker to himself. We all know he's from Iowa.

"Well, it looks like you are on your way to graduating from the Academy, huh?" Noneen liked to cut to the chase.

"Yes, I am." And with that, Markle crossed the street and went into the auditorium. Noneen drove off, blaring the radio, and singing along:

"It's the end of the world as we know it, and I feel nine." Noneen didn't know the words. After all, she herself was an alum from the Academy of Socially Inept herself.

The End.

Commentos?