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Sunday, September 20, 2015

Church and State: The 1st Corinthians 13 Poem

So much passes for Christianity today.  For instance recall the anti gay marriage county clerk Kim Davis from Kentucky who has been in the news the last week or so.  She is so much in favor of dual sex marriage that she has done it a number of times.  Not one of the times she married did she marry a woman. She is completely opposed to same sex marriage and it is a religious principle for her.

The spectacle of her refusing to do her job and being jailed amidst claims of religious persecution seems preposterous to me.  I'm happy her faith did not include eating her young as Christians have been accused of doing in the early years of the faith. If it did she would have those who support her.  They would also claim persecution. You can be sure of that.

I was thinking of her antics and wondering if she would get fired for not doing her job or be sent back to jail.  That was part of the inspiration for the poem. The second part of the inspiration came from Paul's first epistle to the Corinthians.  It is called the love chapter. See if you can find a reason for Kim Davis's decision in it.

If Jesus were to return to the church today like he did when he chased the money changers from the temple would he say to the leaders: "My Father's house is a house of love, and you have made it a house of hate?"

     Inspired by the actions of Kim Davis done in the name of Christ
      along with a couple Christian Presidents who lied us into war.


                           The Church has begun shouting,

                           dividing us with church and state;

                           truth in the mouths of liars

                           turns into falsehood, fear and hate.


                           Love is much more than a word

                           it’s a seed sown by the heart,

                           where peace springs up binding together

                           what church and state have torn apart.


                           When no light shines in the sky above

                           and darkness fills the land,

                           light in your heart the lamp of love

                           and undivided we will stand.


Friday, September 18, 2015

R.I.P Little One

On September 14 I got up and followed the cats down the hall to give them their morning meal.  I noticed that Little One did not come to eat. I went looking for him and found him lying in his litter box.  I spoke to him, he did not move.  I touched him, he was room temperature and his body was stiff.  Little One had died during the night. Little One was the offspring of Mama Cat.  She had produced three litters in her first year and a half of life. Little One was one of them. I finally caught her and got her to the vet to be spayed.  She is still pretty much wild but living inside.

I have five cats living inside now that Little One is gone.  But there are also four cats that come to the porch twice a day to be fed.  All my cats have been rescued, the ones on the porch want to be rescued too but they’ll have to find another home.

Below are Mama Cat and Little One in a picture taken a couple years ago.

Let me tell you about Little One.  He used to come in and wake me up in the morning.  Both he and Imp and Kali would come in when it was close to breakfast time.  I would feel them coming onto the bed and even in the dark be able to tell which was which by the positions they chose to lay down in.  Kali would press against my legs near my feet. Imp would straddle my legs near my knees or else lay down on my chest.  Little One would come and stick his nose in my face and more often than not scoot under the covers with me and fall asleep.  He loved to have his belly rubbed and would roll over on his back with his legs splayed apart so i could rub his belly..

  Little One as a kitten.


Little One waiting for kitty treats.

Little One was ‘my’ cat.  Every day when I would be sitting at the computer he would come to visit.  He would begin his visit by taking his paw and tapping my leg with it.  I’d look down and he’d more often than not peer into my eyes and I'd tease him asking “what do you want?” Little One then would look to the kitty treat container and then back to me. I knew he was there to tell me it was kitty treat time it was a game we played.  As soon as I picked up the box and the rest of the cats heard it they’d all be there. 

Here’s Little One on my lap in a fairly recent picture.

He won’t be coming to wake me up, or tell me it’s kitty treat time or sit on my lap anymore.  He’s spending his time here. 

The day after Little One died Kali got onto my lap four times. She never once had wanted to be on my lap and wouldn’t stay if I picked her up and sat down with her. And Imp who had never done it before came and tapped me with his paw the way Little One used to do.  It seemed clear to me that they understood Little One was gone. 

  Little One in 2013

Well Little One deserves to be remembered.  I sure do miss him climbing up on my lap.

Friday, September 11, 2015

I Remember 9 / 11

I remember 9 /11 for a number of reasons. The most important for personal reasons was that 9 /11 was the date of my fathers birth date in another century.  It was also the day our highly trained and incredibly 
expensive  military failed to do it's job protecting the American people.

We saw three high rise steel buildings fall to the ground.  Subsequently a commission to investigate the crime determined that the official story was not in harmony with the facts.

I remember how the Patriot Act having been composed ahead of time was made into law by men and women who did not read it.  I remember when we learned a little of the Patriot Acts abilities that we learned we were not as free as we were the day before it became law.

I remember high ranking officials warning Americans to be careful of what they say.

I remember years of terror alert and increased difficulties in getting from one place to the other.  I remember how the psyche of the American people was filled with fear and hatred of Muslims as a result of the events of 9/11. 

So I made a little video about the gross invasion of our most private areas by government employees.  

Have a nice day.  Enjoy your flight.

*updated a little

Sunday, August 30, 2015

Yesterday, Today, Tomorrow: a poem by David H. Roche

Yesterday, Today, Tomorrow

Yesterday, like a cat playing with a mouse,

the storm came and left.

Today sun shines
and the cat lays on the porch licking her paws.

Who knows about tomorrow?
I wait.

Poetry and video (C) 2015 David H. Roche

Friday, July 24, 2015

Four Days In Manzanita: two love poems

Four Days In Manzanita

1: Manzanita

Waking up with coffee
and fresh BC bud on the front porch.
A perfect day in Manzanita to watch the ocean roll.

Morning sky transparent blue,
whiffs of white cloud,
infinitesimal parts of the water supply
on its random journey –
perhaps to LA or further down –
but somewhere along the way a droplet will condense
and spread out on the earth.
It will be repeated billions of times over around the world.

Streams and lakes will continue to flow –
the continual visible processes
of the earth maintaining herself will fall 
on the good and bad alike, 
they will drink and be revived.

Closer, and not so subtly,
a sparrow in the rhododendron
vocalizes a chromatic passage
interrupting my thoughts of the
woman still sleeping inside.
Smiling I wonder how life can be so perfect.

The process is the gospel.  
The revelation that all things continue
and move on but that NOW 
they are HERE.

Take note:  it is an
immanent divinity that discloses herself so subtly, 
so intimately, touching us all.
Do you see?

One wave after the other crashes,
the sparrow sings,
my thoughts roll with the waves one after another
keeping step with all that's going on...
the sea, the singing, the sun, the blue,
the intimate knowledge that this is eternity;
eternity here and now.

2: A Woman In Manzanita

The second morning at Manzanita
the ocean is dark slate green,
ever rolling into shore.
The sound is soft and continuous.

Today only the locals with dogs are walking.
I'm thinking about the virus inside and the death it brings
and beginning life again.
I'm thinking about the woman still sleeping inside
who has made me fall in love at this old age.

I am thinking of the random patterns of the universe,
the confluences of time and events
that have put this all together for my arrival
this particular morning in Manzanita.

I would take her to have and to hold
until matter and consciousness are one,
until our atoms mingle in the dust
and are reassembled.
We have the time.
We are eternal.
This is the process.

Embedded here for a moment
we’ve found a shelter in each other’s hearts.
Some days it may be cold
but the shelter remains
and we have a fire burning.

She smiles and I am warmed,
she runs her fingers through my hair
holding my face against her breasts;
"I don't want you to leave," she murmurs.

I feel her breath and sense her desire.
I am speechless, 
a tear seeps past my eyelid,  
my cheek is wet.
I have never felt so good. 

4/27/05 © David H. Roche

Thursday, July 23, 2015

Marijuana... God says it is good

Marijuana is legal for anyone over 21 to use in the State of Oregon. Oregonians have made more freedoms for themselves than most of the other 49 states.
In 1970, in New York, we'd sit around cross-legged on the floor listening to The Moody Blues, Cream, The Yard Birds, and Pink Floyd telling ourselves pot would be legal soon as we passed a joint around the circle.  I had a cat who would follow the joint around the circle and want the smoke to be blown in his face. Yes that is a true anecdote.

Of course marijuana wasn't made legal, thanks to Nelson Rockefeller, Richard Nixon and their co-conspirators against this freedom. Of course a complicit and brainwashed American public making decisions based on untruths from the mouths of authority figures aided and abetted those nere do wells. Authority should always be questioned, don't forget that.

It is interesting to note that my generation, the baby boomers, have finally stood up for their rights as created beings on a planet produced to take care of them.  The article in the link at the top of the page reveals the following about my generation. 

"The image of marijuana-using seniors might seem strange, but it is the byproduct of a graying counterculture. Much of the baby boom generation was in college during the 1960s and 70s, and have had much more familiarity with the drug than previous generations."

"In Colorado, since legalization, many dispensaries have seen the largest portion of sales going to baby boomers and people of retirement age,” West said.

The folks at the sales counters agree: Their clientele has proven to be surprisingly mature."

"Our demographic is not punk kids,” added Karl Keich, founder of Seattle Medical Marijuana Association, a collective garden in Washington State. “About half of the people coming into our shop are seniors. It’s a place where your mother or grandmother can come in and feel safe."

Marijuana is a wonderful safe product.  It is an intoxicant, a medicine, a respite from a hard day at work and much, much more. You should not find yourself in jeopardy of losing your job or going to jail or having to pay a fine for using what God made and subsequently declared good. 

It is an socially compelling portent that the figures show so many seniors trekking to the states where marijuana is legal and where they will end their days.

I came across a remarkable product out here called BHO (butane hash oil) commonly known as 'dabs'. Believe me like the old hair care product jingle from the 1950's advertisements proclaimed, 'a little dab will do ya'.   It provides almost instant relief from what ails you from pain to depression and many things in between.  Pain and depression are conditions seniors regularly experience on their trek to the grave. In Oregon we have the freedom to choose whether or not to toke, we can even choose how and when to die.  It's nice God thought to make marijuana for us old folks. And he was right, it is good.

You can seize that freedom in your state too. Stand up for your rights!   Power to the People.

Thursday, June 11, 2015

Wishing You A Happy Fourth Of July

This Fourth of July 2015 is indeed a ‘Fourth’ that

celebrates freedom in Oregon. Why? Last 

marijuana.”  The details of this new freedom are 

in the previous link to 

Marijuana became illegal in the U.S. in the first 

part of the 20th century as detailed in the 

Wikipedia entry here.  Ironically it was 

characterized by lawmakers as a poison.  Today 

it is recognized as a valuable medicinal asset as 

the video explains as well as being a much 

appreciated recreational intoxicant.

Like many public initiatives the road to 

criminalizing the marijuana user and the plant 

itself was accomplished with falsehood and 

deceit.  Using the time honored social means of 

"racism, fear, protection of corporate profits, 

yellow journalism, ignorant, incompetent, and/or 

corrupt legislators, personal career 

advancement and greed" as Drug reports.

Like so many policies and laws enacted during 

that time period marijuana laws had their feet 

planted firmly in good old American racist 


Harry J. Anslinger is the poster child for the 

criminalization of marijuana and its users. He is 

credited with approaching the American people 

with fear driven information such as the following sentiments:  

1. “There are 100,000 total marijuana

smokers in the US, and most are Negroes

Hispanics, Filipinos, and entertainers. Their 
Satanic music, jazz, and swing, result from 

marijuana use. This marijuana causes white 

women to seek sexual relations with Negroes, 

entertainers, and any others.” 2.“Reefer makes 

darkies think they’re as good as white men.” 3. 

“Marihuana leads to pacifism and communist 

brainwashing” 4. “You smoke a joint and you’re 

likely to kill your brother.” 5. “Marijuana is the 

most violence-causing drug in the history of 


To help fan the anti-marijuana hysteria into a full 

blown inferno the film “Reefer Madness”  was 

produced in 1938. Today in the second decade 

of the 21st century the film is viewed as a joke 

and often people will get  together for a party 

while getting stoned and watching the film. 

Today the film is seen for what it is, government 

sanctioned lies and social propaganda.  As such 

it is more like a Marx Brothers comedy than a 

film with seriously needed information.

Oregon is famous for its high quality marijuana according to the THEWEEDBLOG.  But it has rivals or superiors, some say, in Colorado, Washington and California.  Today the liberty to grow has produced a new generation of avid horticulturists and entrepreneurs who are continually breeding better and varied strains of marijuana.  Along with the beautiful plant itself and the pure joy of savoring its ability to turn the mood soft and happy there are a variety of edible marijuana products and some relatively new ones like ‘dabs’. Dabs are easy to fall in love with but they do make you cough lol.  The dab consists of the concentrated essence of the plant and is sometimes close to 100%THC.  A little dab will do you for the entire day.  Two will make you sit down and fall into a daydream and more may become unpleasant as the following article in Leafly warns. 

What all this means is that the Fourth of July in 
Oregon this year will offer some expanded 
areas of personal choice to anyone over the age of 21 within its borders.  People from outside the state are welcome to enjoy the herb and its associated products as long as they are within the borders of the state and of legal age. 

Perhaps this will open up a new tourism industry where people can come for the scenery and the herb. It seems like a perfect match. 

 Be here for the Fourth.

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A practitioner of the art of living with the intent of learning how to die without fear.