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An Internal Slant Rhyming Ballad from 1972

An Internal Slant Rhyming Ballad from 1972 A Former US Marine [1971-1972] ~ by John Gregory Evans © 5/14/2020 8:00:23 AM (5) 11 Line Stanzas, (1) 5 Line Envoi, the last line for each stanza a refrain. Envoi ddedE and the lines rhyme scheme = ababceddedE Stanza I I am fire fanning the flames of crucified flesh ~                                                             Unduly forsaken, hot, red, hallowed blood flow                         burns through a teen’s guiltless veins upon the cervical mesh,                                   I am the warrior drawn of courage ink wells scribing pains,                                        where death is not darkness but shooting darts, drop by drop for a liquified … Continue reading An Internal Slant Rhyming Ballad from 1972

Volume I ~ War & Peace: An Introduction to Brevity

Volume I Upon Reading Leo Tolstoy’s ‘War and Peace:’ An Introduction in Brevity ~ Volume I Upon Reading Leo Tolstoy’s ‘War and Peace:’ An Introduction in Brevity ~ 1852, diary notations, a historical account of 19th century Russia fueled the light of Leo Tolstoy, commanding as were his military demise, the Decembrist’s (Tolstoy’s own class), and a thirty-year exile, Siberian snow deputed wilderness, a friend and writer, then of the era of Nicholas the Ist, and Napoleon, thus  defeated within a Russian wilderness where winter exposed a death as no other to another gentry class, from a region called France. … Continue reading Volume I ~ War & Peace: An Introduction to Brevity

Spinal Con-fusion

Spinal Con-fusion: A Combat Therapy By John Gregory Evans © 5/12/2020 8:25:38 AM There remains a deadened, freezing, almost an anesthetizing sense of dread upon my fingertips and hands, reaching deep into my leg’s nerves, shattered spinal cord, peeled away as one peels an orange. Walking, now a challenge, con-fusion of the fusion, cervical cord, Ruptured and bruised, arrogance of the humanity factor. Pain within the eyes like lightning fingers to the crown – of God. At night, now, I lay awake, not to pity myself, But to personify the relevance for the un-forgotten Accretion of gunpowder residues, a controlled … Continue reading Spinal Con-fusion

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Among the Streets, Thickets, & Thorns

Among the Streets, Thickets and Thorns By John Gregory Evans © 5/12/2020 5:56:33 AM I once knew two men who ran among the streets, thickets, and thorns, spreading the likes of themselves through gates of hell, ivory horns, thus, INK’g away bad seeds of scorn, around their auras shined only as worn. I had heard they came from Gallipoli, or perhaps Tripoli, or none of these. Perhaps in all cases, and all places it was here in Shar-on among the streets where ancient buildings, and glass houses began to crumble, nigh into the ages for generations to arrive, crippled by … Continue reading Among the Streets, Thickets, & Thorns

Coyote Moon Rising

Coyote Moon Rising John Gregory Evans © 5/11/2020 9:30:36 AM The Gulf of Mexico, mysterious whitecaps feel the colossal, dark figure brush my legs, left dangling as death upon a razor’s edge where my journey through the depths appear as overbearing. In the horizon’s twilight the ‘Naparima’ glides upon the depths as the designer intended, a Coyote moon weighs heavy and derelict in a sky for a hope to see land, again. A nothing more than dirt, caliche, and sand, to rise and throw indignities at me, as a brown-skinned bully from a distance. Thoughts of eating a meal at … Continue reading Coyote Moon Rising

This Pale Moon

The pale moon can be invasive at times, lighting up my tiny room, to almost a dim freshness of sunshine echoing through. I think, of love who has passed me by, except the silver love and this lunar sky. We share so many nights, why not, and evenings, too, we are together, espoused we two. My silver love, a stately profile of Campanian blood, mixed with a splash of Penobscot, too, indulges her counterpart, Welsh invader, oh dear, was how she referred to me, I simply cannot think out loud, but upon this virgin page of white, I think of … Continue reading This Pale Moon

Soren Kierkegaard: Existentialism is it a Psychological Reality, or Myth?

Soren Kierkegaard: Existentialism is it a Psychological Reality, or Myth? By John Gregory Evans © 5/10/2020 6:17:09 AM A choice we have. A Reality in a Higher Authority, blameless, blemishes none, may we assert, then, existence is quite the certainty, but choose we must, conscious choice, without the requirements for a personal vision; a kind of leap of faith, I’d say. From a personal way, the Voices I have heard, the Visions I have seen, remind me clearly of religiosity. Perhaps, a divine revelation as Kierkegaard contends, he did not believe in myths. Nor I should it be too soon. … Continue reading Soren Kierkegaard: Existentialism is it a Psychological Reality, or Myth?

A Foreign Affair II

A Foreign Affair II By John Gregory Evans © 5/10/2020 2:42:35 AM For just a moment, protracted, a long-drawn-out affair, long black hair, with a painted face, of red, and brown so fair, An indulgent for her time-honored pleasure, an acknowledgement, together We shared an unknown ecstasy silent to the core, quaking to the fore. The moment endured perpetuity, a long slide ride, mirrored, paralleled more than the 38th, emulated, mouthed-over echoes, a murmur not by way of chance, but by this colorful appeal, calling it red and parted maws, a slight drool for a long-awaited thrill eagerly waits its … Continue reading A Foreign Affair II

A Foreign Affair

Loneliness has a colorful appeal, Let us call it red, parted maws, lonely from a journey to freedom instead, A relinquished mass of peoples juxtaposed, liberty sows not upon this troubled land, a promise not to the populace cram. I simply hope for the people’s choice Not as from Tiananmen Square, The lovers of none, oppression, I swear Of authoritarians, tyrants, despots, too For the peoples’ lives are worn to the bone, worn to the skin of multitudes. For just a moment, protracted, a long-drawn-out affair, long black hair, with a painted face, of red, and brown so fair, An … Continue reading A Foreign Affair

Updated Poem

Upon the Cusp of Blackness’ Ride John Gregory Evans © 5/9/2020 12:01:04 PM Upon the cusp of blackness, we stare, I see a hope clinging to the everywhere, religiosity is an interior pull of white corpses walking, without purpose but to be saved through the mechanized wheel of traveldom, your misfortune, where dead bodies aspire to heal. As if a preacher man from the Right conceals the truth together, tonight or if he burns with lies, that conceals his fate… the black weaves are Real, Jesus is alive in a dance of bobbing bodies with a feel for the darkness … Continue reading Updated Poem

On the Cusp of Blackness’ Ride

Upon the cusp of blackness, we stare, I See a hope clinging to the everywhere, Religiosity is an interior pull Of white corpses Walking, without purpose but to be saved Through the mechanized wheel of Misfortune, where dead bodies aspire to heal. As if a preacher man from the Right Conceals the truth together, tonight Or if he burns with lies, that conceals his fate… The black braids are Real, Jesus is alive In a dance of bobbing bodies With a feel for the darkness of night Around the bonfire of attachment, an intimacy So close, your body has left … Continue reading On the Cusp of Blackness’ Ride

Sixty Minutes of Deadly Fire

Sixty Minutes of Deadly Fire John Evans © 5/8/2020 3:10:24 PM When one is enjoying life sixty-minutes takes no time to pass. But when one trains for a jungle war sixty-minutes ne’er will. Visions of dying surface to the heart pumping, faster and faster till velocity feels the tip of your nose. Every third round, a tracer. Blasts from all angles Till a spent cartridge finds its derelict target upon my neck. Cervical spine, Hit! the pain is real, the numbness I feel throughout a paralyzed frame, Jesus Help can’t move until, from somewhere, one ounce of C-o-u-r-a-g-e pushes onward … Continue reading Sixty Minutes of Deadly Fire

The Little Boy I Used to Be

The Little Boy I Used to Be By John Evans © 5/8/2020 1:47:50 PM When I was young, say back at five My spirit flew, I was alive. Vacation Bible School And a cherry orchard, walk Along a dirt path The sour taste, but Oh, so good Mother and dad Walked hand in hand I loved them both, so much And little brother With brightly colored snails I hid them all, I hid in pails. Early morning capture Heading back to my room By early morning next day Walls were covered As if a new paint. But love so strong … Continue reading The Little Boy I Used to Be

John Gregory Evans Quote # 4

John Gregory Evans Quote # 4 In retrospect, life’s outcome always rests in the love God has for humanity. Let us love one another through regular intervals of demonstrating not just love but mercy as well. We cannot escape His Presence, so why try. Rest in knowing the Most-High rests within a willing heart, one through gladness offers up a great gratitude to be alive. Continue reading John Gregory Evans Quote # 4

Monastery

Monastery by John Gregory Evans © 5/6/2020 3:48:39 AM Interior pull a Springtime day sixty – mile drive the gate pulls me in to where beauty begins inside. Hearts play from heaven the Visitation Jeramiah, yes wisdom, goodness, reverence for the Word A kindred bond The Abbott’s invitation, thus lunchtime. Brother monks, Priests, gather at the large table, prayer upon prayer. Spiritually devoted in Reverence and holiness, I felt Presence indeed, Presence A disturbance sits nearby, chuckling Not certain why. I draw near to the Father, Holiness Permeates the spirit of the humanity factor. Departure, bowing monk we leave upon … Continue reading Monastery

Liebster Award

Thank you Ingrid, at https://experimentsinfiction.com/ for my nomination. If you have not visited Ingrid’s blog yet, I suggest you check it out. Always makes me happy to read her fiction and helps me feel a bit less stressed when I become overloaded with my Creative Writing and English program. Ingrid, quite the educated lady speaking 4 modern languages and 2 ancient and has had a wonderful travel experience she writes about in her blog. Thank you, Ingrid. RULES Thank the blogger who nominated you and provide a link to their blog. Answer the 11 questions given to you. Share 11 facts … Continue reading Liebster Award

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A Social Justice Agenda Viewed through the Eyes of a White Heart of Transformation

A Social Justice Agenda Viewed through the Eyes of a White Heart of Transformation by John Gregory Evans © 5/4/2020 1:44:03 AM “She’ll carelessly cut you and laugh while your bleeding.”       Billy Joel During the major eras of my life regarding women I never quite viewed myself as a sexist. I always felt justified through three accounts of domestic violence and sexual assaults by women upon my child-like appearance. Justified or not one must come to the inevitability to one’s own misery in life, and perhaps, aspire to transform from the heart to a moral and equitable vision, after all, … Continue reading A Social Justice Agenda Viewed through the Eyes of a White Heart of Transformation

Bigotry Offends

Bigotry Offends By John G Evans © 5/2/2020 2:15:22 PM Slavery, thus, white demands, ne’er mirroring goodness at hand. I, white as hell, but how may I learn suffering of your ages in our land? Why, these biased mechanisms for control of a race, piss on you, take injuries away! Tired of looking at ‘em square in the face. I say, whate’er we create, why then we redeem it through a Resurrected pace. Mister white man hold fast your conservative tongue, clean up your own injurious race. First off, slavery ne’er should have been, the Jim Crow era must discover … Continue reading Bigotry Offends

Systemic Racism: I Cannot See You for You are my Brother

Systemic Racism: I Cannot See You for You Are my Brother by John Gregory Evans © 5/1/2020 4:26:48 PM Structural Racism: historically & culturally; white privilege is where – to be of color is a disadvantage, well, I cannot accept the privileges from one to the other. Racism is not my brother. A racial equity is of my favor that for me perpetuates a global communal conclusion, you know, as in happy endings? Diversity is where I am from, think! a mega-metropolis divided by two, peoples of choices divided by none. It has been said, we shall fall together or … Continue reading Systemic Racism: I Cannot See You for You are my Brother

John G. Evans

Truth as a Child May See ~ Deadened fossils of the past, worries of the future, as opening in the present moment the healing of a suture. Why, must I torture myself? This past thus dead and gone, and the future nowhere to be seen, all that clearly remains is transforming our minds to living for what now is being. Listen, to this Rocky Mountain Idahoan breeze. Breathe this freshness in and stand back for God shall do a mighty wondrous thing. The mind is troubled, and our personalities will mix, but the healing comes from living now, today, among … Continue reading John G. Evans

A Black Man Once Told Me

John Gregory Evans © 2019 It remains not mine to say whether I would pity a colorful word of verb and noun, or, from where it may come, or the color of its skin, for I have seen the Lord, and, know him to be of spirit not acquainted with such superficialities. I believe in you O soul of the deepest of transparent hearts, only to reach out in love for our lovers with skin as dark as the night. The ocean is deep, and so may a man’s heart burn in love for his neighbor of color and his … Continue reading A Black Man Once Told Me

To My Clientele & Followers

“Be Courageous with Your Creativity”     John Gregory Evans PAAVO OSO ARTS PROJECT Boise, Idaho To All My Clientele Owner, PAAVO OSO ARTS PROJECT Boise, Idaho Dear Followers: 24th May 2020   PAAVO OSO ARTS PROJECT Phone:  208-810-9999 John Gregory Evans & the Paavo Oso Arts Project are currently located in Boise, Idaho. My photographic career began as a US Marine photographing fellow Marines within a Portrait format. This tenure endured close to one year, led to some outstanding self-portraits as well as US Marine individual portraits. My primary concerns were to record a history of training as a … Continue reading To My Clientele & Followers

Photojournalism: Not Just Another Passion

Sitting in my high school library in 1970 my thoughts were of photojournalism as I blankly stared out the window nearly facing direct sunlight. I was facing a depressive mood disorder I struggled with for quite some time. I recalled during these moments speaking with the school’s photojournalist named Al and asked during one point how does one achieve this? I also asked if there were openings on the school journal and newspaper whereby Al stated that there were no vacancies. I opted out of further conversation due to the depression. My thoughts led me back to photography, writing, and … Continue reading Photojournalism: Not Just Another Passion

Paavo Oso Arts Project

I conceived the Paavo Oso Arts Project two years ago stimulating my photographic endeavors. I embrace my absolute favorite Fine Art Portrait Photographers but ride on no one’s coat-tails. My work (good or bad), is my work. I explore the possibilities through that which is technologically native to the camera, editing software ( I utilize several), gut feelings, experience, and my artistic positioning which has become my artistic statement and raison d’ etre. I love when a composition comes together through planning, and the aforementioned stimulants. My website at paavoosoarts.org is gaining an increased popularity and I aspire to work … Continue reading Paavo Oso Arts Project

More Bird-Watching

Early this morning I photographed more Tanagers and a Bird of Prey and I think it is a juvenile Eagle perched in our neighbor’s yard. It was quiet in the area after he showed up. Now we have beautiful birds everywhere. I have discovered this area in our neighborhood to be rich with a multiple variety of species. I have decided I cannot photograph as joeyl.com can but perhaps as I settle in with a new lens next week (150-600mm), my images will be crisper. However, yesterday I reset my shooting menu I will review with you at a later … Continue reading More Bird-Watching

Silver Love Poured Tea

Silver Love Poured Tea by John Gregory Evans © 5/17/2020 3:12:52 AM Your smile, breathless, Ponderosa Pines harvested your voice, Kisses that shed an earthly attire, While Sleeper’s and Pullman’s steal the night, yet Silver love poured tea. The moon breathed deep tonight, Stars gathered Inebriated by the broken silence, Only the darkness smiled! Silver love poured tea. Stares from a destitute dawn, Like a brown paper bag That feeds an army of poor, Your soul lay bare, Silver love poured tea. The lunar moon snips away the dusk As desert succulents grow. The scarlet butterfly, adjourns his ills Comes … Continue reading Silver Love Poured Tea

Walking Alone in ’81

Walking Alone in ‘81 by John Gregory Evans © 5/17/2020 2:53:22 AM How many rides, were you offered today? Met a stranger with a heart full of compassion? One I’d say, but, other than that It just ain’t happening! These foreign guests within an illusory homeland of hope? Was there one who lifted you in friendship? Or, do women merely come and go? Life is not fair. What voices lay in ruins of a dead man walking while inhaling square upon square, friends, strangers really. In ’72 one spit on me back from the war. How many congested thoughts, of … Continue reading Walking Alone in ’81