Gender: Male
Status: Single
Age: 45
Sign: Sagittarius
State: Dublin
Country: IE
Signup Date: 4/9/2007
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Thursday, October 01, 2009 01:42
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Category: Writing and Poetry
Mother and Child Patrick Benignus Bennett
mother and child symbolic creation birth love mother and child made to die nurture too nature invisible bond conception to beyond only after, they ask why Mother's twinkle of eye, as explanations are met with, wide-eyed why... why... but why child in flames with mother was there no other womb's nutricious warmth through endurance too pain gush forth at scene, no trace just charcol remains of mother and child agonies of anxiousness expectations deliberations joy they ask why why! why? they drove them there they splashed the petrol they ignited flame whoosh alas, at this investigated scene no trace of real crime, just the charcol remains of Mother and her Child some in authority, after said, "sorry" Mother's twinkle of eye, as explanations are met with, wide-eyed why... why... but why others, youthful yobs simply move on, to next target, knowing that some in authority will again, simply say "sorry" mother and child symbolic invisible bond conception to beyond
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Wednesday, August 12, 2009 17:42
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Category: Writing and Poetry
Day Patrick Benignus Bennett copyrighted strolling, nay sauntering Dublin city streets this day pocket size radio plays through small black earphones somehow manage turn to station, old blues/jazz sets background to auld Dublin buildings, monuments, bridges amid soiled razz of modern food-shacks, fluorescent businesses housed in old Dublin structures, wander through blur of shapes, colours, expressions, rich blend of different culture waves wash past, designer labels amid work dress, brush-by casual brigade, all hurry past seller, not a big issue bus home passes-by; ahh sure! coffee and cake time sat alone, eats meal, reads book, in thought relax, feast apple pastry, read magazine, coffee sip.. await my ship ----------------------------------------------------- Patrick's rap rapiddy ra-ra rap
Patrick Benignus Bennett copyrighted And demon within Raps in hip hop jive swing Bombard with word flow Society’s ills let rage show Ha-ha rap-rap bitch about Peoples chemical nap And that demon within Raps hip hop jive swing Swing-by rat-a-tat ta-ta Look at my drum machine Rat-a-tat ta-ta, it’s so mean And demon within sings I can speak the words And the demon within Raps in hip hop jive swing Bombard with word flow I can speak the words Hey you, yeah you, Your that much of a bastard Ya never even had a godfather Speak word for sure, speak The turd, entice the wrath And the demon within, yo bro That demon knows how to sing Knows not to be anybody’s plaything Come what may you is walking decay See man I know how to mean play Occupational hazard, meet Mr Death What’s yours, risk breaking sweat And that demon sure do sing The craziest dam things Rat-a-tat ta-ta The craziest dam things And that demon sure do sing Patrick's rap rapidy ra-ra rap ------------------------------------------------------------------
Spaare Cha-ange Patrick Benignus Bennett copyrighted 'Spaare-chaange', huddle in archway doorway 'Spaare-chaange', haunting voice in soul decay, 'Spaare-chaange', baby in lap sleeps, 'spaare-chaaange' 'Chaange-spaare-chaaange' Single tear softly trails O’er Molly's smooth cheek Haunting voice 'spaare-chaange' trails ghost James pauses to observe, take notes, toss coin, that Vanishes in each twirl of flight; 'spaare-chaange' 'Chaange-spaare-chaaange', unwashed-greased hair hangs ragged Raise slow pale sickly face, sunken eyes look trance to bridge, Fresh crowd crosses, climb archway steps, fast-food foam cup held in Desperation's need, 'chaange-spaaare-chaaange change' Two individuals pass, teens-twenties Style counselled dress, one utters 'fuckin junky' Other catches confused cold stare, asks of companion why? 'It'll only be spent on drugs, fuckin junkies annoy me' Wonder if maybe someone he cares about died or is suffering as result, maybe Was robbed with blood filled syringe; just maybe, reaction born of ignorance, fear 'Cha-ange spaare chaaange' trailed hauntingly, 'cha-ange spaare change'… Into coffee shop, warmth sit, sip latte; 'Chaange-spaare-chaaange', small price for creative day.
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Sunday, July 26, 2009 22:57
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Category: Writing and Poetry
02:50ish 20th july 2009 patrick benignus bennett copywrighted
frankie says... "...envy will hurt itself..."; alas patrick did say, 'not before, it has sneakily caused great harm unto others!'
and bruce did say "...is a dream just a lie when it don't come through or is it something worse..." what is worse, than just a lie asked patrick, what is worse? could it be not to dream, or, to dream unrealistically. And what is worse than just a lie, what is worse... is it the living with the lie, or, denying existance of the lie, or simply, justifying the lie!'
night cloaks day as troubled mind blocks the light; and night cloaks as cotton sheet lightly drapes warm flesh the dark, sprinkled star systems planets debris shooting the dark, broken by tracer-bullets artillary starlights screeeeaaaams within darkness, lovers cling, partners snuggle, sleeps embrace
02:13am 25th July 2009
the Numan wanted to know. "...are friends electric..." I want to know is friend spiritual. And Why is it so vastly difficult for human to overcome ego/Id; especially when evidence shows it is cause of mammmoth conflict, within that is then processed, justified, And cast out unto others, to inflict
anyway, twas sitting here, early morn wee hours from dawn, and Gene popped-in and crooned "if I didn't have a dime and I didn't take the time to..." and thought to self, as thought generally speaking so to speak is usually to self, especially when alone, I thought if it was only that simple, that staged, still it evokes the romantic deep within, "...ooohhh love songs that they sing wouldn't mean a single thing, if I..."
And O', ooohhh.... what must it be to experience that Elvis "Fever" beneath bluesy rythmic "blue moon"
02:39AM 26TH jULY 2009
More rain hits window, grateful our soil swallows falling life upon as those far-off rarely experience Water is it, could it be psychical entity of God, power greater than mere human
somewhere, in more than one place poppies numerous gentle touch while crosses peel and suffer slow effects of weathering, till names become obscure Patch and should you reach, the age of bilbo baggins, you too will know full slow suffering of weathering
an individual, caused death of millions of individuals and yet, individuals are ignored in their millions every second, strange how an individual can cause so much destruction... especailly when an individual, suggested a path away from destructive human behaviour, so I in confusion ask, who is it that decides, which individual is listened to and followed.
21:21pm 26th July 2009
ooooh yeah, daily I walk in the valley of ego's fear not your will, for it empowers thy words and faith giveth strenght for daily I need to deflate, that others ego's have less power o'er me
------------------------------------------------------------------------------- references 1) "Envy will hurt itself" from 'the power of love' sung by 'Frankie Goes To Hollywood' 2) "is a dream just a lie when it don't come through or is it something worse" from 'the river' by 'Bruce Springsteen' 3) "...are friends electric..." by Gary Numan and Tubeway Army 4) "if I didn't have a dime and I didn't take the time to..." and "...ooohhh love songs that they sing wouldn't mean a single thing, if I..." from 'if I didn't have a dime' sung by Gene Pitney 5) "Fever" "Blue Moon" by 'Elvis Presley' 6) "Bilbo Baggins" fictional character aged 111 from 'lord of the rings' by JRR Tolkien. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
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Monday, June 29, 2009 00:59
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Category: Writing and Poetry
Text sent Saturday 27th June 2009 Patrick Benignus Bennett copyrighted
(pbb) With ease, two swans paddle tide high Liffey Cappuccino and Latte sippers, skinny and not Some with to much froth warm under clear sky; copper mane slow Sucks awkward on smoke, light green bag-strap diagonal over brown, speedboat Easy parts deep rhythmic water, rainbow flags limp too flitter poles; far away One shot took down three lions! In saunter Saturday strolls to evening for… (pbb)
============================================ Text sent Sunday 03rd March 2009
Patrick Benignus Bennett copyrighted (pbb) ah sun from behind cloud passing shines as light wind Occasionally causes beer can roll; blue on red Ahh flowers sway blooms, birds as Lies hover on wind; spare change Ha’yPenny toll, rippled flow May tide low; blue on red, one Semi-conscious, other crawl Avoid dance of lonesome red, still On wind seagull floats. ~{PBB}-
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Monday, May 25, 2009 00:35
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Category: Writing and Poetry
Atone Patrick Benignus Bennett copyrighted Raggy-arsed boy, you, raggy-arsed boy Who was it, that causes you down generations cry Poor, raggy-arsed boy, deep rooted cry cry cry cry Do you know, twas not the’Christ That caused your mind in childhood die Was not the’Jesus, who causes pain regurgitate Raggy-arsed girl, who introduced you to your hell Twas not, the’Mother of the’Crucified Emotional; Physical; Mental; Sexual; Spiritual Abuse You! Suffered; Recurring Each day of you; Suffer Raggy-arsed child; they stole you! Brother, Sister, Father, Mother superior! Religiously they came to steal you. Raggy-arsed child Raggy-arsed child Raggy-arsed child Those, that survive Do you forever wander shadowed corridors Submerged murkiness within- your only crime That you were child, without sin, child Vulnerable, frightened, small, voiceless soft target You were child you were child defenceless you were child You who ‘survive’; through torment torture terror Turned-out to fend that new batch take your position Turned-out to, turned into, institutionalisation, ’life’ Of medication, Alcoholism; Drug addiction; Dysfunctional relationships; Homelessness; Suicide? Few made it through, to be To be, made suffer further; State Religious bodies, of denial Deceitfulness, Greed
Raggy-arsed adult; you Are loved, for your endurance You are loved, for your truth
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Monday, April 27, 2009 00:54
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Category: Writing and Poetry
There once was a Patrick Benignus Bennett copyrighted There once was pig, who Ate bird that no longer flew, due To bug that caused its’ flu Along came a human; who Humanely did not kill pig, for its’ crime of, being A complete bird eating swine There once was a human who, sneezed Agh-chuu; Now, World panicked streets Lie bare; But, for body pyres here and there; Agh-chuu -------------------------------------------- 01:00am-ish 27th/04/09 At least Patrick Benignus Bennett copyrighted In this city, thousand more Better, lovers, writers, people Thousand better, siblings, children Better workers, thousand more At least I recognise; and still My input is input regardless A thousand more, at least Futility frustration fecklessness A thousand, feelings
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Sunday, April 19, 2009 21:45
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Category: Writing and Poetry
The Sunday Tribune / Dublin City Council Short Story Competition / DRACULA
The object was to include the following line from Bram Stoker‘s Dracula;
“His eyes blazed with a sort of demonic fury, and he suddenly made a grab at my throat”.
[NOTE: I didn‘t win e100.00c book voucher, but, thought would share with you; Comments of any description welcome]
Standing Nonchalant
Patrick Benignus Bennett copyrighted
His eyes blazed with a sort of demonic fury, and he suddenly made a grab at my throat. As bony white fingers took hold, terror before unknown cloaked. Even now, as mind raced, I could still feel embarrassment as urine soaked pants. As last of oxygen struggled in lungs, my body went limp. Knowing power was all his, he loosened grip. I slipped to wet cold stones, drawing knees automatically up into foetal position. Standing nonchalant over, calmly gloving hands, he tilted head skywards letting out a low guttural laugh. That sound reignited distracted terror within, my mind leaped wildly through thought patterns, what.. what did he want of me, what would he do to me; the contrast of warm urine on thigh with chill of wet slabs under seeped into thoughts. My mind recklessly leaped as lay motionless helpless powerless to his will. He stepped lithely back, sneered coldly and let loose, I felt shooting pain in ribs as his high-polished leather boot thumped into side. Gasping air through pained lungs, I rocked side to side as he spat words at me, You dare.. to Desecrate.. Meee! Reaching he grabbed my coat-front and easily jerked to feet. In hellish intimacy several times his nose brushed back and forth across mine, a putrid stench overwhelmed nostrils as involtarily I retched, laughing loudly he flung me away to fall hard against stone. I lay cold whimpering with pain as words of Patrick Kavanagh’s “On Raglan Road” wandered over mind. Slowly I roused as eyes struggled to adjust. Soreness seeped to consciousness as events flooded back. Senses began to register dank odour within dark confines. I felt cold metal against skin. Aches through body were accompanied by dimming spirit. Something touched shin. Flicking right foot a squeal echoed as sharp rib pain caused me groan. As I began to slump muttering sweet Jesus sweet Lord Jesus free me from this insanity, sound of a key turning in door lock brought me sharply up. Light glare filled room. A crouched figure opened padlock. Taking hold of clean steel chain, he tugged me follow through door. Painfully standing, I reluctantly trudged after. Descending loft-ladder, he beckoned me along carpeted corridor. We entered into large handsomely decorated room. He sat with silver goblet in left-hand on black leather settee in front of book shelved walls. With slight gesture of head, my guide let chain go and sat in armchair beneath portrait. I stood helpless as he looked into me. Seconds heavily fell as shivering I ached. With slight movement of his menacing eyes, he directed me to window. I walked to large window and stood in amazement too confusion; busy below lay O’Connell bridge. Shaking mind I looked beyond to see the’Spire like some giant silver steel steak, a monstrous thing to ant like creatures that milled about it. Tormented. It slow dawned on me that this maybe his way of showing these sights, the’Liffey mirroring sky too buildings, O’Connell bridge and street buzzing with revellers, for my last time. I turned head slow towards settee expecting to find that cold sneer etched on his dead features. He was gone. Looking hurriedly around, guffaws from his assistant caught attention. He sat giddy trembling, a shaking finger pointed, my eyes followed until they rested on a raven perched atop bookshelves peering into me. It’s head slow moved hypnotic in motion all the while holding gaze. Numbed I stood in this nightmare, wondering outcome whilst crying within for divine intervention. With flutter of wings, his assistant fell silent as raven swooped to appear menacing as he before me. Smiling deathly, he slowly ungloved. You! Would desecrate me. He flexed bony fingers; from somewhere on night sounds of Thin Lizzy carried, “I think I‘m fallin to pieces…”
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Sunday, April 19, 2009 00:58
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Category: Writing and Poetry
bad sheep Patrick Benignus Bennett copyrighted ba ba bad sheep have ya a half ounce of wool yeah man yeah man three ships full.... oh wait naw, not three lost one to storm on sea lost one to customs too ya see that leaves me with.. emm.. aw right have a ship full left what ya want, a half ounce wool, no prob man… and don't forget… if ya haven't enough for a woolly hat… ya know were the ba ba bad sheep is at right --------------------------------------------- SHADOW Patrick Benignus Bennett copyrighted I am shadow, of this place I am shadow, of this time I am shadow, of mind --------------------------------------------------- home, to roost Patrick Benignus Bennett copyrighted The war came home to roost this day No longer that vivid long distance news/entertainment War came home, to roost --------------------------------------- Façade Patrick Benignus Bennett copyrighted You façade chirpiness, and Buddy-up for public show, yet You know ease of deception, subtle Placed chosen words to instil, a doubt No matter no foundation, no matter Consequences on innocent; just As long as your way is paved; and on you chirpy go, deeper To your delusions of normality; Deeper To your delusions..ignorance of Spirituality; and On you… continue…. “unaffected” ----------------------------------------------------------------------------
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Saturday, April 11, 2009 23:56
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Category: Writing and Poetry
Take a Walk Patrick Benignus Bennett copyrighted
Took walk down smoke alley, formerly
Henry street; now, like industrial age smoke stacks billowing, staggered
Grey waste bins ashtray tops release steady stealth smoke stream into passing crowds
Two dudes skillful blow ancient instrument from far away land, toss coins and halt to listen, admire Assorted peoples nationalities classes in constant side-stepping; and a regular One of Fagan’s sits sleep slumped with foam cup
How many, associate this time With chocolate treats Who is winning in that smybolic department Advertisers or God
Store competition, guess how many eggs in perspex cabinet Life competition, is there humankind solution that could keep it altogether
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Sunday, March 29, 2009 00:30
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Category: Writing and Poetry
City Sale Patrick Benignus Bennett copyrighted
Jazz sextet of international flavouring , outside prominent store captured Attention of Saturday passers-by; a plump elderly man, lime hoodie protrudes overcoat Danced old man shuffle, while young Bleached spiked punk-rocker tartan trousers leather jacket and chains, jived His doc martins in front of easterly biting March wind halted crowd- with smile passed I
The city’s on sale! 20% to 50% off just about everything, jobs included!
Another march marched through this March, shuffled feet Huddled frightened, placards banners of economic outcast For awhile twas a blast, couldn’t last Of now; to weep too weep, jobless sheep
Still, old man shuffle Punk jivin jazz Didn’t cost a dime
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Tuesday, March 24, 2009 19:49
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Category: Writing and Poetry
So, if he wasn’t Patrick Benignus Bennett copyrighted So, if he wasn’t ’blue-eyed; light hair colour; white skin… What… If he was, ’brown-eyed; dark hair; brown skin’; If he was, ’brown-eyed; dark hair; black skin’; or Mongolian or Oriental appearance; or None of these or combination of all or some; Other Does it really make any difference? Does appearance in anyway alter the message?
Did eye colour lessen frustration felt at the greed which harmed others? Did hair colour lessen anger felt at the suffering caused in profit’s..prophet’s name Did colour of skin lessen the sting of ridicule directed at?; or The sting of whip upon skin? Did any such description prevent suffering? So, if he wasn’t…? Does it in anyway… alter the message??? ----------------------------------------------------
Easter Thought
Patrick Benignus Bennett copyrighted
hammer to nail through wood, table made
hammer to nail through wood, chair made
hammer to nail through wood; cross created take to hand crude hammer take to hand crude hammer take to other metal-shaft nail take to other metal-shaft nail
while arm stretched and lashed
rough grubby hands pin down
hammer to nail through wood
take to other metal-shaft nail
while arm stretched and lashed
rough grubby hands hold down
hammer to nail through wood
was it so
that dark clouds in blue sky gathered
was it so
that thunder roared lightening strike
was it so
that winds rose strong to howl
was it so
that ground beneath trembled
was it so
out of reason
lash feet to wood
take to hand
metal-shaft nail
while feet held
hammer to nail
through wood
on ropes pull to raise
hammer-in base wedges
secured!
Crucified
Risen
Yean
---------------------------------------------------------------------- O’wail oh why Patrick Benignus Bennett copyrighted O why does God let this happen; O’wail oh why People accidents die; children starve; abused O why does God let this happen; O’wail oh why People kill people; people kill creatures; people kill planet O why does God let this happen; O’wail oh why Disease hops skips jumps, some in sneeze; people suffer too die Down centuries disease hops skips jumps genes too generations and people die And people in fear live too live in fear O why does God let this happen; O’wail oh why In castles cottages apartments, they fear dwell too dwell fear And times, the innocent die; that good person! in ’crossfire’ is caught O why does God let this happen; O’wail oh why Drunk and..or drugged driver O why does God let this happen; O’wail oh why Drive-by killing; Savage beatings; O’wail on wail on O why does God let this happen O’wail oh why oh why And crops fail; riverbeds run dry; And floods destroy And volcanoes spew; And winds toss; And earth in rage opens And why, O why does God let this happen; O’wail oh why Because, sometime somewhere someone, some human form Choose, too blame, and say; God lets it happen; God does! When all the while, some of it, is caused by simple physical earth And when, when most of, is caused by human, simply by human Then that most human thing comes to play, the blame game! When acts of goodness you encounter When acts of the good you perpetrate Therein you know God When harm is done to you; When harm is entertained by you Therein you know; human; you know Death comes to all; those Who die unnaturally; usually Do so, due to some human Uninterested in the simple way of God If blame game play, do so With knowledge, no one Ever has, or ever will, win. Seek, to turn to And not away from -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- If In Likeness Grow Patrick Benignus Bennett copyrighted If in likeness grow Greed too must go If belief, instead deceit Selfishness too must go If banner wave belief Advertise too, true delusion.
If one colour, be your blood sister-brother Then all colours, be your cell sister-brother All peoples akin If in doubt, pride swallow, reach out Instead feed human wants, feed spiritual need Instead verbal negative, tongue hold, pray silent Each temptation overcome, will Strengthen spiritual self Each temptation overcome, payment within, too spiritual Each harm done, will Revisit, within; circle Each harm done, will Revisit, some generation --------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
it is said!; "the road to Hell, is paved with good intentions"; it is also said!; "Power corrupts..." And so to my mind view: Patrick Benignus Bennett There are some who are unable to hear these statements; the paving with good intentions of the road to hell; is referring to interference in other peoples lives, without invite. Feeling the need to input directions that were not requested and/or making decisions without prior discussion with said person. This then in turn leads to conflict within relationships of all types and at all levels; family, partner, work and so forth. It is this unnecessary uncalled for interference that is the relationship road into a hell of conflict; that can be acted out through, backbiting; one-upmanship; silent resentment; hidden revenge; and at times verbal conflict; and physical conflict. And all because one was impatient to be heard or asked for advice/assistance and/or felt left out of a situation [that may have nothing to do with them in the first place] and/or just feels the need within self to be included; even if that inclusion paves the path to relationship(s) breakdown. AND SO... to my mind view... "power corrupts", does not necessarily mean, (though it has/does bring about financial corruption), the taking of self-ordained rewards. In its essence it means... that the mindset of those at any level, that hold a position of authority over another person(s) is vulnerable to their own minds making them believe that due to "title" held, that they are in some way superior humans to those they have a position of authority over; be they... supervisors; managers; charge-hands; foreperson; politicians; state heads; or any of the numerous cross-religious divides titles; and it is within these minds that the power (real or perceived) has the ability to corrupt that mind. Which in turn, corrupts their relationships with others; and can lead to the road to relationship too personal Hell. Time for my mind to pop-down; be well; give someone a hug! ========================================= [ Saint Bernard of Clairvaux (1091-1153), as "Hell is full of good intentions or desires." (http://www.samueljohnson.com/road.html)] =============================================== "Power tends to corrupt, and absolute power corrupts absolutely. Great men are almost always bad men." Origin: This arose as a quotation by Lord Acton in a letter to Bishop Mandell Creighton in 1887: William Pitt the Younger, The Earl of Chatham and British Prime Minister from 1766 to 1778, is sometimes wrongly attributed as the source. He did say something similar though, in a speech to the UK House of Lords in 1770: "Unlimited power is apt to corrupt the minds of those who possess it"
http://www.phrases.org.uk/meanings/288200.html
==========================================
And finally, some old philosophy that is much needed today... In ancient Greece (469 - 399 BC), Socrates was widely lauded for his wisdom. One day the great philosopher came upon an acquaintance, who ran up to him excitedly and said, "Socrates, do you know what I just heard about... (other person(s))???,"
"Wait a moment," Socrates replied. "Before you tell me, I'd like you to pass a little test. It's called the Test of Three." "Test of Three?" "That's correct," Socrates continued. "Before you talk about...(other person(s)) let's take a moment to test what you're going to say. The First test is Truth. Have you made absolutely sure that what you are about to tell me is true?" "No," the man/woman replied, "actually, I just heard about it." "All right," said Socrates. "So you don't really know if it's true or not. Now let's try the Second test, the test of Goodness. Is what you are about to tell me about...(other person(s))???, is it something good?" "No, on the contrary..." "So," Socrates continued, "you want to tell me something bad about...(other person(s))???, even though you're not certain it's true?" The man/woman shrugged, a little embarrassed. Socrates continued, "You may still pass though, because there is a Third test—the filter of Usefulness. Is what you want to tell me about...(other person(s))???, going to be useful to me?" "No, not really..." "Well," concluded Socrates, "if what you want to tell me is neither True nor Good nor even Useful, why tell it to me at all?" The man..woman was defeated and ashamed and said no more. This is one of the reasons Socrates was a great philosopher and held in such high esteem. ----------------------------------------------AND REMEMBER
"...Do not use harmful words, but only helpful words, the kind that build-up and provide what is needed, so that what you say will do good to those who hear you..." {}JESUS{} Son of God!!!.............
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Saturday, March 14, 2009 20:24
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Category: Writing and Poetry
Oh Hear oh hear… That’s it just listen… this is not About being shinny or wanting to glisten Oh hear oh hear just do that thing, that most difficult thing That’s it, shush… Listen There ya go.. the pressure is off, no need for reply nor opinion You have been freed from that prison, so, sit yee back and listen, for The Saint of our patronage known to us as Patrick, gave to us the following wisdom... Along with some words of me own;-} Happy St Patrick’s day and Easter Spiritual well being upon you!+! -------------------------------------------------------- THE CONFESSION (Citizen of the Roman Empire 400 A.D.) "I am Patrick, a sinner, the most unlearned of men, the lowliest of all the faithful, utterly worthless in the eyes of many…"(St Patrick) Patrick’s Poem For A Saint Patrick Benignus Bennett copyrighted Patrick I am; stumbled I On this green green land Lush shamrock carpet Damp drizzle downpour Souls to be found, too guide Here in this glistening green land By day roam, by night rest Toss turn damp earth By strange sounds awake I’m kept An eerie noise, kind of whisper
Tiredness drapes; coldness Creeps along spine, shiver Feel of slime Staff wield Hear creatures squeal Scream their appeal Their death I feel Kneel now to pray As creatures learn to obey, and Flee this land, this Glistening green green land This my Ireland Patrick I am Some say, saint; a man ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- CHRIST IN OTHERS Christ the lowly and meek, Christ the all-powerful, Be in the heart of each to whom I speak, In the mouth of each who speaks to me, In all who draw near me, Or see me, or hear me! (St Patrick) ---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- THE PROTECTING GOD Lord be with us this day, Within us to purify us; Above us to draw us up; Beneath us to sustain us; Before us to lead us; Behind us to restrain us; Around us to protect us. (St Patrick) Snake-Man Cometh Patrick Benignus Bennett copyrighted A gathering there be, annual jubilee Multi-coloured multi-cultural multi-nation celebration The man with standard; Snake-Man cometh Mythical too cleanse land, cast-out Silent slippery creatures. Roman extract too Irish Detainee Sold to herds tend; on Slemish mountain Years in six herded by, till that time, young Patrick Fled captives and this land Among riotous raiders manoeuvred he through Gaul, Italy and Islands of Tyrrhenian sea, before once more encountering Boulogne, that Home once he knew; now laid before in ruins Continuous Patrick did trek till among relatives of Britain found welcome rest Winds fair and fierce blew through seasons, as leaves Transformed; book leafs of knowledge transformed youthful Mind to manhood reasons ’Twas then the Word did come A vision; the letter bearer, Victor Delivered message; made it known, from distant wood Many Voclut voices of far away Western sea called as one, for Patrick to return; "We ask you, boy, come and walk once more among us." The captive boy whom had fled, once more returned In freedom, as spiritual guide to some who once were captors Anew, land roam too discover, people ignorance dwelt Bounty to convert, within, blessed spiritual home ’I be Christ’s man in this land’ Together roam this harsh green land Where brutes of pagan hold throne; too Mythical cause creature across sea flee Cleanse peoples, teach be free Roam ravaged lands, cry out I am channel for Christ Jesus, come be spiritually free, with Him Fear not dark forces within or about, His light guides free Roam ravaged lands, cry out O yee vile creatures flee this land Be gone your symbolic fear Be gone your poisonous infectious ways Be gone your forked-tongue Cast yee out of God’s land, that His peoples will grow strong, without Erosion from your vile song Oh yee vile creatures flee His land. Cities towns villages outposts World-streets This day yearly through festivities greet all Combined colourful cultural efforts join with Snake-Man Celebrate part message heard Snake be gone, alas, infection held long Corruption’s fangs sunk spiritual; representatives Projected, pontificated diluted deluded belief of ’titled’ ’truth’ talkers Cold blooded, minds, slip-slide snake vain corridors
O yee vile legged-creatures you must flee this land Be gone your symbolic fear Be gone your poisonous infectious ways Be gone your forked-tongue Cast yee out of God’s land, that His peoples may grow strong, without Erosion of your vile song O yee vile creatures flee this land This glistening green green land. Flee. Jubilee, jubilation Patrick cometh Celebration celebrate too foreign shores voices roar Rejoice rejoice worldly peoples yearly gather Ah’sure carousal Snake-Man cometh Cities towns villages outposts World-streets This day yearly through festivities greet each; Other Rock’on Rock’on St Patrick rock on…. There is then, school of thought that sayeth Our Patrick be not Saint; that Blessed Patrick he be And that, thought school would have focus on, the title Instead the message; think’on think’on The Snake-Man, Blessed, Saint, Patrick, think on and on.... THE PROTECTION OF CHRIST Christ as a light, Illumine and guide me! Christ as a shield overshadow and cover me! Christ be under me! Christ be over me! Christ be beside me, on left hand and right! Christ be before me, behind me, about me! Christ, this day, be within and without me! (St Patrick) ---------------------------------------------------------
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Sunday, March 08, 2009 02:17
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Category: Writing and Poetry
Dubland Patrick Benignus Bennett copyrighted Streets reflect downpour Shadows’ sleeping-bag huddled in shop door No more no more Stroll through historic glass panelled door Sit, too have Eastern orientated approach Latte apple-pie with cream; rare Saturday Observe, as he too she manoeuvre for optimal position He; grave looking longhaired hard lived features She; above knee cleavage reveal short crop, shapely Unusual attire for photographer, and Three in fusion, guitar bass vocal, venue rock Gusting rain, taxi’s ‘for hire’ stretch as wagon-train up narrow road Signal to halt, hug friend goodnight, drive off. Journey home He tells, notice eye turn, of crazies in phoenix Arizona, last year Streets reflect downpour Shadows’ sleeping-bag huddled in shop door
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Monday, February 23, 2009 22:21
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Category: Writing and Poetry
That I Patrick Benignus Bennett copyrighted Symbolism; suffering; sign Of cross Symbolic of Complacency, maybe Compassion Can sign cross For numerous reasons Pass church, ambulance siren, misfortune Good fortune, death news, near misses, for a winner For job, for better job, for better boss(es), leaders, for better through worse and beyond… Can sign cross, can sign cross sign cross… Symbolism: through fable Once upon some two and more thousand years gone-by Some say there came an almighty boy child cry, that reverberated across the planet An altering wailing that was to bring about As child grew to boyhood through adolescence to manhood, encountered he inner conflict As dutiful to Mother and tradesman guardian, he toiled trade whilst gnawing bid seek Deeper journeyed, until conflict stilled Darkness about eased for those who tread his footsteps Or so the’story goes once upon some two and more thousand years gone-by Orators then and since have retold, BEHOLD! Behold boy child, behold man that is not of mankind Behold water walker; water to wine illusionist, behold What has been lost on Time’ journey What has been misrepresented by orators ego jaunts, what What is not being heard Why do party tricks overshadow achievement the’Message! Why do listeners become enamored with orator and not the’Subject Journey two thousand and more, that I Can sign cross
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Sunday, February 22, 2009 21:35
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Category: Writing and Poetry
I am, Flea Patrick Benignus Bennett copyrighted I am flea, stealthily Landed upon knee Seconds remain, as Life drains from me What a time you chose, to Close legs, crushing me O’ to be a bee, honey heavy buzzing pollinating as I go without a care to show O’ to be a bee; Alas, now seconds run out, after your crush on me.
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