 Thread: Terry Scott Taylor - Swine Before Pearl, vol 1 |
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My wife gave me the okay to order the deluxe personalized CD, but it's showing as unavailable in the store. I don't need it for Christmas or anything, but now I'm worried. I didn't miss my chance, did I?
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| Thread: A DA related poem - The Beautiful Lady In the Blackberry Hat |
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Originally posted by servantsteve
Thanks for sharing your work. You write beautifully. I love it!
I confess I often have a problem deciphering poetry so I'm writing this to show how I have broken it down. Please let me know if I got it right.
Theme: I am interpreting this as a new believer's prayer to Christ in which the believer describes how modern thought has compromised simple faith.
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I. Told, she did, her paramour
That all things lovely, right, and pure
Are due philosophy de jour
Fanaticism’s lure |
This stanza- is it saying that the things we are supposed to think on are corrupted or compromised by modern philosopy and that fanaticism lures people into poor modern philosophy?
Phil 4:8 Finally, brethren, whatsoever things are true, whatsoever things are honest, whatsoever things are just, whatsoever things are pure, whatsoever things are lovely, whatsoever things are of good report; if there be any virtue, and if there be any praise, think on these things
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II. Said, she did, its wicked grip
Could all archaic myths make slip
Then every shred of faith will strip
And bloody reason’s lip |
Here, the same evil, modern philosophy makes old myths slip (displaces older philosophies? Are they myths, then or just seem to be?) This modern philosophy also strips faith and bloodies reason. I can see this illustrated in the modern philosophy of evolution which is widely espoused. This philosphy undermines faith in the creator and despite its claims, is neither logical nor reasonable as well.
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III. Told, she did, her lover new
What good a deadened soul can do
To fools who steep in moral stew
On some forgotten pew |
I'm not sure who the lover is, is it Christ? Here she is telling this lover that a soul that has listened to this modern philosophy becomes useless and dead. It may philosphize on morality and may even attend church, but it is faithless, useless, dead.
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IV. Said, she did, that God is dead
Slain by those of learned head
Who opted for His flesh instead
Of prayer and daily bread |
In this stanza, the final blow to Christianity is dealt when the wise ones espousing their modern philosophy have attacked Christ's message and gospel to the point that they have completely lost God in the mix. They should have kept to the simple gospel (daily bread) and submission to God (prayer).
This is not to say that God is dead at all, but that the modern philosophy has caused these wise fools to declare him to be dead in their reasoning.
Am I close or way off? |
Sorry I was slow to respond. My Internet is down and I'm having to reply to all my emails, etc. From my phone.
You are, for the most part, correct. The only major difference between my intent and your perception is - the "lady" believes what she says. She is attempting to educate her lover (man) on the folly of faith while I, the writer, am using her words to show the folly of philosophy.
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| Thread: A DA related poem - The Beautiful Lady In the Blackberry Hat |
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Hey guys,
If you don't know me, other than the quote from me (re: Midget, etc.) on the home page, it's because I tend to lurk more than post. I'm making an exception this time, since I have something DA-related to share.
I've been working on some new poetry for an upcoming compilation. I finished this piece the other day, and as I was reading over it, "Traps, Ensnares, Etc." popped into my mind. As I hummed along while reading, I couldn't think of a more appropriate title for this particular work. Perhaps Bella Donna inspired the work on some subconscious level.
Hope you enjoy.
J. Patrick Lemarr
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The Beautiful Lady In The Blackberry Hat
Told, she did, her paramour
That all things lovely, right, and pure
Are due philosophy de jour
Fanaticism’s lure
Said, she did, its wicked grip
Could all archaic myths make slip
Then every shred of faith will strip
And bloody reason’s lip
Told, she did, her lover new
What good a deadened soul can do
To fools who steep in moral stew
On some forgotten pew
Said, she did, that God is dead
Slain by those of learned head
Who opted for His flesh instead
Of prayer and daily bread
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| Thread: Lost Dogs music at a Middle School Talent Show? |
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I don't post that often, but I thought I would share this. I work in a Middle School in the DFW metroplex. Back in April, we had our annual talent show where students and faculty put their talents on display to raise money for the school's activity fund. The last two years, I've been one of the producers of the show.
This year, I felt like singing, so I asked one our coaches and our Spanish/ESL teacher to play guitar. Each of us pitched songs that we were less than thrilled with, but I finally suggested the Dog's song "Cry Out Loud" which ended up being a lot of fun to sing. Plus, as a Dogs fan, I was thrilled to introduce the "youth set" to their music. You can see the full performance below.
J
Cry Our Loud -Fuller, Jackson & Lemarr
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| Thread: Swirling Eddies - the midget, the speck and the molecule |
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I've posted a few times, mainly when my dad passed away. "Soon" was one his favorite songs, so I remember posting something about playing it at his funeral. I later got a chance to thank Terry for what his music has meant to my family.
That said, if the album had been crap, I would have said so. I'm still processing the CD (I was a pre-orderer from way back), but already I think it's genius. Since Infuze has published some of my poetry and fiction, I submitted the review, hoping they would humor me and publish it. If even one new fan is born from the effort, it's all good.
As for the controversy, I don't know any involved on a personal level, so it didn't interest me. But there wasn't really a way to talk about "Medley of Our Hit" without mentioning the "controversy" in passing. I'm fairly certain I would have deducted the point of it even had I not been a lurker.
Hope that clarifies everything.
J
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| Thread: A Note to Terry... |
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Originally posted by servantsteve
Try to remember how much a better a world this truly is because your Daddy lived, how many people will rejoice at the coming of our precious Savior because your Daddy talked to them, prayed with them, cried with them. I pray that followers of Christ will continue to bless God forever because your Daddy lived and loved and was so special. Dr Steve Luke |
I wept when I saw your response, Steve, because in all the chaos of conflicted emotions... I forgot to think about the people that will get to meet Jesus face to face because my Dad loved them with the Father's heart. Your words... and those of the others... mean a great deal. I will pass them along to my Mom, brother and daughter, that they will take comfort in them as well. Bless you.
J
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| Thread: A Note to Terry... |
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I lost my dad this week, Terry. I talked to you about him a couple of years ago when the Dogs played The Door in Dallas. He was in the hospital then, and I told you that I grew up listening to DA because of my dad's love for Shotgun Angel. You told me that you would pray for him... and it must have worked, because he got better then.
I had tickets for The Door to see Mike Roe last Saturday, but something was wrong with dad. We talked to him on Friday, Mom and my brother and I. He was born with an immune deficiency and has been sick off and on his whole life... one battle after another. Last Christmas was spent in ICU, but dad was a fighter. His temp. got to 106.3 one night... and he survived... one more miracle in a miraculous life. This time, though, he wasn't sure if he wanted to go to the hospital again... for certain, he wanted no respirator.
"Jeff?" he asked me, sitting on his bed. "I'm here, dad." I was near his blind eye, so he couldn't see me. Apparently, he didn't hear me either. "Jeff?" I walked to his bed and knelt down... told him I was there... asked if he needed something. "Just a hug," he said. When I obliged, he asked for another... and then told me he was scared. I told him that no matter what was coming... what we had to face this go 'round... HE had nothing to be afraid of. He nodded, and after mom talked to him, he let me drive us all to the hospital.
I didn't go see Mike's show Saturday... I gave the tickets to friends. I stayed at the hospital and went home when they kicked us out of ICU at 10pm. Dad was out of it... getting more carbon dioxide than oxygen in his blood, they said. They wanted the respirator, but we did what dad wanted... we said no. We let them put a mask on him, though, to help him breathe. He didn't like it, we knew, but he would sleep through it. It was a small chance, but one we needed to take.
Sunday morning, before the sun rose, I was called to the hospital. His oxygen level was still dropping. Mom and I cried and nodded to each other, knowing that we needed to get that mask off of him and make him comfortable. The nurses gave him something to help him relax... and morphine to rid him of pain... and around 7a.m. on Sunday morning... the time of morning Dad used to spend putting the finishing touches on his morning sermon, Dad got to meet Jesus face to face.
Mom wanted the funeral on Tuesday, so we had to meet with the funeral home that same day. Through tears, we planned and talked about the people that Dad would want to speak... a good friend, who prayed at his ordination, and a younger pastor whom my dad had mentored. Then Mom asked me to write something... which I did, and read Tuesday at his funeral. I'll close with that later, but I want to tell you what this has to do with you...
My daddy loved "Soon." He talked about hearing it years before I knew what he was talking about. He didn't even know it was his old faves Daniel Amos that did it. But after I became a DA and Eddies fan, I came across "Soon," and dad wept when he heard it. Over the years, it meant a great deal to him... and before the closing prayer at his funeral, it played one last time for Dad. I wept... and thanked God for my dad... a mighty man of God. I thanked the minister, and Dad's friend, who said a wonderful prayer... and now I thank you, Terry, for touching us, and reminding us with "Soon" of that deep desire to see the Bridegroom coming for us again. I know I'll see Dad again... but I know we'll both be so caught up with seeing Jesus that it may not matter much then. My Daddy loved your song... and I love you for giving us the perfect song to close the remembrance of my Dad.
I close with the words I shared yesterday. I choked up a time or two, but Dad helped me get them out. I know you never knew him, nor do the people on this board... but perhaps this will give you all a glimpse of who Dad was.
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If my dad was here today, he would make you laugh. His gentle spirit belied a wit that could catch you off guard. If he was here, he would catch hold of you somehow… with a word or a glance, and you would love him. It was his gift… one of many… to comfort with his presence. If he could make it, we all thought, so could we. If he could sit in his wheelchair, bent over from one maelstrom after another, and make us laugh… then we could laugh with him… we could have hope.
If my dad was here today, he would tell you not to look at his old body and feel sorry for him. Though, in battle after battle, he fought to hold onto his life, he would be the first to tell you that death is not the end. It’s barely even the beginning. He would remind you of some verse of scripture that you had forgotten about or the lyric to some hymn… not something random that proved his point, mind you, but something that touched him… something that moved him… something about this world being temporary… nothing but a vapor… that to die is gain. How could it be anything else to someone so wounded by this life?
If my dad was here today, he would show off his new body… the one that will never grow old… never tire… never succumb to pain or sickness. He would tell you that what awaited him in Heaven… the peace… the joy… the chance to see face to face the Savior whom even those with the mightiest faith can see only darkly through the glass of this wounded world…that the reward outweighs the cost… that the fight was worth fighting… that these scars, the pain, the sorrow we feel in this life… are but temporary things when compared to matchless glory of what waits beyond.
If my dad was here today, he would preach to you, for it was his delight to share with you the risen Lord, Who changed him and moved him. He would remind you that, wherever you are, wherever you’ve been, however far you’ve fallen and no matter how far you’ve run from the truth of it… Jesus loves you. Dad would tell you that there is no greater truth that you could leave with today… no gift he would rather leave you with… than the assurance of Christ’s love for you.
If my dad was here today, he would let you see his brokenness…his humanity… his doubts and weaknesses. He would say that, like a tree weathered and aged, he took a beating from time to time. I’m certain that he would tell you that winter had come and settled over him for quite a while. He would admit how hard it could be to see your leaves drifting away…the cracking of the bark, the creaking of the branches. He would admit that there were more than a few days when he wondered if perhaps God had forgotten him… left him in his shattered frame to linger on. He would tell you those things, not to dishearten, but so that you would not feel alone in such a desperate time. Faith, even the strongest faith, can be shaken from time to time. Dad was no exception.
But Dad would also tell you the Truth that ran deeper than any doubt… the truth that, barren and withered as any tree may become in winter’s grip, spring is on the way. The Son is rising on a warmer day, bringing with it the first thaw in many a year. No matter how lifeless a tree may seem in the chill of winter, like any season, it will pass… and give way, in due time, to spring and all its colors. Dad would tell us to open our eyes and our ears to it… to breathe in the scent of the springtime he now enjoys… until the time comes, at last, when he will meet us again in the summer that will not end.
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I am the Lur King 