Memorial Day, 2008

I am a mere minimal man, whose one great hero was my Father,
Walter Scott Coleman, from Troy Alabama. He too, was a minimal
man in this world. There were no claims to wealth, no great barriers
to his soul. If you saw him, laughed with him, he loved you. I know
why he did what he did; he thought he had failed us. Of course, he
hadn’t; we were wealthy in other ways. The poor don’t need much.
We were happy with us.
On February 15, 1945, he was killed by mortar round shrapnel to the
head, during the invasion of the island of Iwo Jima. 63 years, it was a lifetime ago.
I do not remember my Father’s flawed breath on me as we played,
his laugh that my mother always talked about, or his staggering home
from another night of drinking. He was a good man often, and he was
a bad man sometimes.
He loved no more than his family. And he also went to serve his
country. I honor my Father, this minimal man, because of what he did.
We all take this day to honor those who did not return standing. They weren’t perfect men, they weren’t super men. They were ordinary guys, who did something good.
The Americans have a place of honor for what they gave to others.
Hopefully, they will keep that honor, and do good for the world
that is so, desperately, needed.
Today, I honor you, Father. We are proud, and love you.

My Americans
“Robert Coleman was a musician. He came to America, landing in South Carolina. He settled in South Carolina and later, moved to Georgia, then Alabama.” I don’t know if he ever found “His” Emmie, but I feel his blood within me. These are my Americans.

The stern mast whipped the salt sea into our faces sa hard, it was like there’s a thousand pins in each breath we took. Our stomachs were sa’ empty we had na’ eatin’ in a month; food would kill us fer sure. I dreamed of home so often ma’ heart broke into tears. I missed ma’ Mum sa’ bad; her cradlin’ arms were sa’ far from anywhere. I could ‘a jumped in that sea many times. Get this sadness beyond my longin’.
God knows I’m an Irishman; he surely wouldn’t let me die this a’way.
I’m a’ cryin’ to ya’ Lard; don’t let me die until I sees ma’ new land. We left that roll a few months ago, and ma’ heart was so longing ta’ be with my sweet Emmie. She left the land sa long ago, her face is in each blink of me eyes, lads. The sweet sight of her is the only thing keepin’ me alive. Good God, brothers, we been a seain’ fer so long a’time. I cross ma heart fer the day when I can stand on somethin’ other than a ship deck.
God knows, I’m an Irishman; he surely wouldn’t let me die this a’way.
Lads, we need us a song ta sing. Come on now Jimmie, hit the barrel! You Paul, stretch that rope across yer knee; Henry, do that great thing with yer, sweet vocal cards. Let’s sing lads! Let’s sing this sadness from our souls. No mind the damn sea Frances, you bow-legged villabee; let’s dance. Come on lads, up with yer voices; play the music of our sweet, new land! Dance the desperation from our souls!

I’ll be damn if I’m a gibberish; and I left ma’ home for long
ain’t dead so far, so fill up ma’ jar for the brew will make us strong.
I once knew a girl from Brannigan, she was a fine lookin’ lass
she let me slip, into her skip, and now I’m a drunkin’ ass
It’s fine bunch a’ lads ye are. We had us a time did we
but, until our hands can find the new land, we’ll never more be free lads,
we’ll never more be free.

Wait lads, what is that I’m a’ seein’ there? Look there, a broadside, it’s land lads! It’s land! I’m a’ seein’ me new home. I’m a’ cryin’ and seein’! I’ll be seein’ my Emmie soon lads. Come on now, let’s sing!

In the April mist, I can see a twist of land from the starboard bow.
In a moment I’ll be in my sweet Emmie’s eyes, just a song or two from now.
Oh, the Potatoes they weren’t growin’, so we had to be a’ goin’.
In the shake of ma’ willy, I happy and silly, I’ll be sayin’ ma’ wedding vow!

Message: Hey Sherry!

I got a message from Ty- He is starting a new game.. Wanna play?
I'm a big fan of youtube and while i was checking out a couple of videos, i came across a video that was TAGGED. TAGGED is a a game some youtubers play to get to know one another. If your TAGGED you must answer 5 or + questions the person who TAGGED you sent you, and you have to answer it on your blog.

I thought it would be really cool to do the same TAGGED game on blogstream. If your interested, here are the rules:

RULES:
1. Title of the TAGGED blog must be, TAGGED #1: 5 Random Facts.
2. Must answer the questions sent to you and tell who tagged you in your blog.
3. Cannot tag someone who already tagged you or tag someone twice.
4. Must send the SAME questions the people who tagged you to the person you are tagging. (CANNOT CHANGE THE QUESTIONS!!!).
5. Please restate the questions before answering.
6. Please notify tagger if you don't want to participate.
7. Can only tag one person
8. Please copy and paste the rules and questions to whoever your tagging
9. Have fun!
10. You must state who you are tagging next in your blog.

QUESTIONS:
1. Why do you blog?

I was in a fog when I decide to blog.
I had a wish to write
ajournal of my daily expense,
to life's sweet wistful plight.
I was never ordained with religion's belief,
so I took these two fingers and typed.
And here I am, just a minimal man,
I hope you like my tripe! (never try to rhyme with "typed")

2. Scariest moment in your life?

We were playing under the grand stands at Bracewell Satdium. it was 'pitch' black, I mean 'pitch'! We scooted along a wall, to cross to the other side, the ground went almost straight down. Suddenly, I'm hanging on this wall, with nothing beneath me, in 'pitch black'! I went into a panic. (I have acraphobia). I couldn't feel any ground beneath me. I was hanging onto the wall, with who knows how high a fall. I handed my way back. For some reason, that experience was always a trauma for me. Gee, this is like head therapy!

3. Top 5 songs on your iPod? (if you don't have an iPod, just give your 5 favorite songs)

Summertime Blues by Eddie Cochran-1958
China Grove by The Doobie Brothers-who knows the year-I was stoned that decade.
Well-all right by Buddly Holly-1959
Syncronicity by the Police-?
The Boxer by Simon & Garfuckel

4. What are your interests/hobbies?

hobbies are trying to stay alive! I love writing. Gardening- I do have a small garden this year, which is a small victory!

5. What do you hope to accomplish in the next 5 years?
This year, I'm hoping to get my book, "The Minimal Man" published. Id' also like to publish some poetry. God, how gay!

Lets try and get 20+ Blogstreamers playing! For an example of what your "TAGGED" blog post should look like, go to my page.
I forgot who tagged me! I think it was Sherry? But, I'm gonna tag somebody. I'm really gonna tag somebody, so look out!
Joseph

So it’s February, 2008, and my doctor finds a “spot that is more prominent” than it was in last year's tests. Hey folks, it’s CT scan, ex-ray, and PET scan, time! Yes, it is there again, in the same area where the left Adrenal gland use to be. Some people will rent to anybody! I dwelled on the horror of the past.
“My God, I’ve got it again!”

"Mr Coleman, we have a problem,' my mind said. "Troops are massing around the left kidney again. It appears they don't seek peace." I look at it, seriously.
"Okay well, there is nothing we can do but negotiate a settlement."
"Sir, the last time we tried, we couldn't get through. His attorney is not accepting out calls.
"Did you try 'Him"?"
"Well, no sir, he never negotiates!"
"Get "him for me, I'll talk to him."

Hello, my friend, nice of you to drop in.
It has been seven years since we last talked.
You are always such a dependable sin.
I can not know of your return,
intelligence being what it is; but, can we walk?
I see you as a challenge to my continuing.
Your craft has an element of crime to it;
but look, I wanna live, that is my only desire.
You always bring the bad news of life, from your asylum.
How many games do I have to play until we both wear down?
I am very tired.
No, I’m not angry, I just don’t understand you.
I wish only, for a peaceful coexistence.
But, I know why you do this. You are not fooling me.
You come to us with your violence and dread.
You love the fear you bring, and all of its traps, reaping.
But the pain I have endured has sent me to the Cathedral.
You are driving me to good. You knew that, didn’t you?
Because of you, I have found an inner peace.
I now see the Nature of all of this.
I guess that’s why the air heals my body,
the water cleanses my soul,
and the earth seems to need me.
I am a gardener; I understand the earth.
It is you, who brought that light to me.
Oh, I understand the time.
The time is so little, yet oh so much!
Time doesn’t matter, when you embrace it.
It is full of second, a very long time itself.
Each, and every, child of time is an eternity.
Each drop of water is a world.
On each piece of the dirt, is a massive convolution of life!
It was you, made me realize that.
For this, I love you.
So I have found something, and I want so, to stay.
Can’t I just, ‘be’?
Can’t I just, ‘be’?

EARTHQUAKE?
“What the hell was that?”
Those very words were spoken by millions of people across the heartland, on Thursday morning, at about 4:30 am. We felt a little shake back in the 70's, from a quake that ran through the St Louis fault line. But this, this was a genuine 5.2 rumble that went all the way up to Minnesota! This isn’t suppose to happen around here. The size and quaking was what was different in this one. We had a genuine “California-like” earthquake. What’s going on, God? Are you angry at us? Is it me? I didn’t mean to insult you in any way! Hey, I’ll wear the damn sandals!
Did anyone else feel that? Whoa daddy, that was earth anger!