love the moment

The thing I resent most The afterbirth I cannot seem to bury The hangover of childhood abuse I cannot seem to shake No matter how much espresso Is the sheer terror of remembering And in the recall All the related feeling The undercurrent fear of Unrestrained power Has shaped my intimacies My parenting My career As I contemplate yet another Court date An ex-wife who will not relent I have a choice Every moment Between Love and fear Maybe that is the lesson I must soon learn Maybe this is the only good I will ever see from A faraway and indifferent god The only words I can remember Angels ever having said To cowering souls like me Fear not dg 2/27/11 Sent from my iPad http://jdavidgamble.blogspot.com/

If you haven't seen this, please do. God Bless the Child. Amazing! Check out this video on YouTube: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qS-BFgQCaY0&feature=youtube_gdata_player Sent from my iPad http://jdavidgamble.blogspot.com/

To all of you my friends, I started a new project on Wednesday, that should keep me employed for a while. Thank you for your patience with my sour moods, rants, and assorted freak-outs in the meantime. Thank you for your support and your prayers. Namasté, David Sent from my iPad http://jdavidgamble.blogspot.com/

It has been an interesting few months.  As one who has worked pretty much non-stop since the age of 11, being out of full-time work since October has been one of the more trying times of my life. I wish I could tell you that I see the wisdom of it, that I learned great lessons, that I'm a better person having gone through it.  Someday, I may be able to say that.  Right now, not so much... But, yesterday at church, I heard the message perfectly timed for me.  The speaker's main message was on the biggest decision we face every day.  That decision is the choice we must make every day - sometimes every moment - between fear and love. As an adult who was abused as a child, I sometimes have the perspective on life that the world is not a safe place.  And, whereas there is certainly a case to be made for this by simply reading the news - it is a view that ignores so much. In the midst of unemployment, I have had many wonderful days with family and fr...

There is no reason it Should be this difficult If there were a god She would know this Fragrant flowers are crushed to Free their oils that Later are mixed with others They never met To grace the bodies of Others, yet They never have And never will Know dg 2/16/11 Sent from my iPad http://jdavidgamble.blogspot.com/

It was 1982 I was just turned 25 I barely knew how to Navigate the years and In pops a life Fresh, beautiful Unsullied So very different from Previous experience I knew then so little But Everything changed Forever In fifth grade The stories began Slaying dragons or discovering Brave New Worlds Myth was needed to Navigate But stories sometimes Obscure the moment and Confuse the teller Then, I had no choice Some 40 years later I have news for you My children, listen Ignore temptation to Make sense of it Your odometer is too young Instead Now Caress and kiss with passion the moment Like that lover you always long for Forget tomorrow It always comes on it's own Like sunbeams Focused to fire Burn now Burst into flame Forgetting Where such conflagrations Could lead dg 2/16/11 Sent from my iPad http://jdavidgamble.blogspot.com/

The exact source of the sorrow is Difficult to determine As I entered the room with a plate Already quite full Hospital, nursing home Old conversations Already quite stale but Willingly rehearsed The matriarchal Queen of the roost was Fast asleep, mouth agape Sufficiently sprawled Thoroughly wired and plugged Prodded, as needed Once awakened One would think her the First and only to have ever felt pain Such a familiar memory I remember this tune It is the only song she has ever sung It took years to learn How to hear Any other dg 2/9/11 Sent from my iPad http://jdavidgamble.blogspot.com/

The birds They light high Up in that leafless tree Against the gray sky They both seem barren, fragile Such small machines, alive Huddled alone on a limb Their feathers only to warm them I am unclear as to their song's intentions Do they beseech the clouds Do they beckon to the sun to Appear and warm them Or Do they like me Want more To be clothed more fully Bathed forever bright In that lovely light That does not cease dg 2/8/11 Sent from my iPad http://jdavidgamble.blogspot.com/

There is a beauty to life that If you dare see it Will crush you It will take your heart and do a surgery Most extreme Even those things often called base And Ugly Seen in proper light will Startle you awake Dust gathered by the wind Papers blown and crumpled Cast aside quickly These stories, singular Mythic Each one a tragedy Or else on other days A romance and comedy We, like they Want only to Make our mark To hope that With our passing Someone will stop And notice The day of our departure And on future days miss The light We once had shown dg 2/8/11 Sent from my iPad http://jdavidgamble.blogspot.com/

The basselope that Berkely Breathed Possibly a unicorn mythical An amalgamation of parts Many consider mismatched Inconvenient Oh, on days like this I, too, wonder about such things A six-fingered man Or the hermaphrodite Unsure of their role One hopes in these times For a merciful god, who With the contradictions Clearly in mind Has counted the costs And knows That such Hideous creations have a Holy place A purpose that proves In the end There are no Mistakes dg 2/8/11 Sent from my iPad http://jdavidgamble.blogspot.com/

To Be, Or Not To Be (Spoken by Hamlet, Act 3 Scene 1) To be, or not to be: that is the question:  Whether 'tis nobler in the mind to suffer  The slings and arrows of outrageous fortune,  Or to take arms against a sea of troubles,  And by opposing end them?  To die: to sleep;  No more; and by a sleep to say we end  The heart-ache and the thousand natural shocks  That flesh is heir to, 'tis a consummation  Devoutly to be wish'd.  To die, to sleep;  To sleep: perchance to dream: ay, there's the rub;  For in that sleep of death what dreams may come  When we have shuffled off this mortal coil,  Must give us pause: there's the respect  That makes calamity of so long life;  For who would bear the whips and scorns of time... Whether we dare admit it This is today's question Honest if we can scarcely be It is the only one Everyday our weary heart beats it Every night our tired bodies know it Places to go Important pe...

If we can stop And listen If we can cut through the chatter that Never stops The voices are telling Whether stories of triumph or Tales of woe We all have them Every game has winners, losers The occasional tie does not decide Those that continue to return Ignoring any injury Are meant to instruct us On the streets in Cairo On a field in Dallas Even in the quiet bedrooms Of every city Chapters are written Plays are called Decisions that change us Many made in haste Failing to remember Of such small things are Worlds made Destinies decided Lives won And lost dg 2/7/11 Sent from my iPad http://jdavidgamble.blogspot.com/

Only he who is willing to give his body for the sake of the world is fit to be entrusted with the world.  Only he who can do it with love is worthy of being steward of the world.  Tao 13 76-year-old Dorwan Stoddard, a retired construction worker, was one of five killed at the scene. His wife, Mavy, was by his side. She was shot three times but is expected to make a full recovery.  Dorwan covered his wife with his body, saving her life. http://www.kvoa.com/news/pastor-dorwan-stoddard-takes-bullet-to-save-wife/ Shortly before 2:30 PM EST, as Reagan walked out of the hotel's T Street NW exit toward his waiting limousine, Hinckley emerged from the crowd of admirers and fired a  Röhm  RG-14  .22 cal.  blue steel  revolver  six times in three seconds,   missing the President with five of the six shots. The first bullet hit  White House Press Secretary   James Brady  in the head. The second hit  District of Columbia pol...

A large and seemingly confident woman Strode from store to car Young girl in tow Directly to a space reserved For those less able Her routine - and we all have them - Included tossing all her empties Bottled water, no less Into the already dreary lot I sat in my SUV unwilling Mostly To judge her intentions Palin, Cheney Mubarak, Obama Or even beggar We all are looking Seeking out our own version Of safe and sound And here my compassion is conflicted Must one's quest For peace, quiet and calm Be at the expense Of everyone else? dg 2/5/11 Sent from my iPad http://jdavidgamble.blogspot.com/

There is a boy I know A mere babe is he Whose world is situated In a most ideal way When he hurts, he cries When hungry, is fed Anytime he is weary He sleeps in the safest repose No one has taught him He knows the rhythm The lyric of living There is a man I know Whose years have shown Pain is normal Some hungers go unmet Weary Is the way of the world Everyone teaches this Lately, this man has seen A once loved song, almost forgotten Better Wiser A melody more lovely Than many others sing He now knows The song inside Alone satisfies The yearning long-held To sing Unashamed dg 2/5/11 Sent from my iPad http://jdavidgamble.blogspot.com/

View this message on the Web THURSDAY Feb. 3, 2011   LISTEN Burned Man by  David Huddle When I was twelve, a man was burned not quite to death at my father's factory. Recovered enough to walk the town, he didn't know what to do with himself—a ghost whose scarred, fire bubbled face made you look away, though not my father who felt responsible and so wouldn't  refuse the man's eyes when they fell upon him. The burned man held no grudge, thought the accident his  own fault, and sought my father out as the one whose eyes told him yes, he was still alive.                            So they held long conversations on the post office stoop, which I observed from the car where I waited, where I could read my father's stiff shoulders, the way he clutched the mail, how he tilted his head, even his smile that was in truth a grimace. I knew just ...

The fireplace flames dance Joyfully They do not falter I find it wonderful They have a switch On & Off A seemingly unceasing flow of fuel Feeds their fire The sounds of steam Foaming milk for those Hurried and hopeful Praying that coffee and milk can Transform their day There is a holiness here I feel it as I sip my Earl Grey I am amazed in remembering Heaven can touch down unexpectedly Anyone Here Could be an angel in disguise Consequently, I consider them Differently I have a new appreciation An expectation of a miracle from Any of them Even me On this cold, dreary January day dg 2/3/11 Sent from my iPad http://jdavidgamble.blogspot.com/

If today Were my last day here In town I'd pay more attention To the sky The dreamscape of clouds The fingering sunshine Piercing through the cotton balls I would notice how Everything smells Even dirt is beautiful if You think you'll never see it Again Yes, if I were leaving This is what I'd do And hold Everything Everyone And never Let go dg 2/2/11 Sent from my iPad http://jdavidgamble.blogspot.com/