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Patrick Benignus



Last Updated: 10/31/2009

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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

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
Wednesday, August 12, 2009 17:42

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.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Sunday, July 26, 2009 22:57

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.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Monday, June 29, 2009 00:59

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}-
Currently listening:
The Hazards of Love
By The Decemberists
Release date: 2009-03-24
Monday, May 25, 2009 00:35

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

Monday, April 27, 2009 00:54

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
Sunday, April 19, 2009 21:45

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…”


================================================================

Sunday, April 19, 2009 00:58

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”
----------------------------------------------------------------------------
Saturday, April 11, 2009 23:56

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  

Sunday, March 29, 2009 00:30

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

Tuesday, March 24, 2009 19:49

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!!!.............

Saturday, March 14, 2009 20:24

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)

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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

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
 
Monday, February 23, 2009 22:21

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
 
Sunday, February 22, 2009 21:35

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.