Marriage isn't about tradition.
It isn't about kids or sex or
money or loneliness or power.
Marriage is about companionship.
It's about someone to share the journey with.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
skip to main |
skip to sidebar
a journey of awareness
Archives
-
▼
2010
(365)
-
▼
January
(31)
- Study Hard
- A Welcome Rain
- Crossing a Stream
- Sometimes I Wonder
- Waiting for the Water to Settle
- Letting Go of Pain
- Laugh with Those Who Laugh
- Friend
- Short-Lived
- Enemies Under the Same Roof
- Listening Well
- Questions with Answers
- Why Take on the Fears?
- Deciding Who We Are
- Predictable
- How Deep Is Deep?
- Haiku
- Making the Other
- There Are Many Paths
- To Have or Not to Have
- Living in Boxes
- Measured by What I Buy
- Burn
- Not Every Adversary
- Just Long Enough
- Everyone Matters
- Finding Each Day Richer
- Four Books
- Fellow Traveler
- You Are Not
- Balancing the Scales
-
▼
January
(31)
Want to follow along?
But Wait! There's More!
Posts
About me
- HK Stewart
- I grew up in Christian fundamentalism, went to hell, came back, became a Presbyterian then a Buddhist Presbyterian, and now I'm a profane Presbyterian Zen Taoist -- not that I'm into labels or anything. Here's what I've learned so far: The more you know, the more you know you don't know.
1 comment:
The Shaolin Finger Jab
There’s nothing like dubbed Ninja movies, where flying black spots unsheathe their swords and slash away. “You won’t have an easy death,” the Nun shrieks. “Speak for yourself, Lady,” three Ninjas in unison chant. Their somersaults in air echo the flapping wings of buzzards -- winds caught in invisible flags for warring tribal nations.
At a naughty pajama party, behind net curtains, Abbot White, in his cardinal cap, leers, “This little technique won’t kill you,” and laughs brazenly at the tied-up female courtesan, sneering “Trust me!” Betrayed, the last daughter of the good monk, bitches, “You dirty old man!” as her blouse is ripped from her chest, then her skirt is sheared off, “Kill me now!”
If only the twin muscle boys could remember which finger to use, and where exactly to jab the evil villain. Revenge is not complete until the violated female slave flings herself forward, to nail that white demon, ramming both fingers down his open mouth, then in his unprotected ribs.
[Disposable Prose January 3, 2010]
Dr. Mike
Post a Comment