chapter 8

an old man that i met on the cobble stone street one day
invited me to his house during a work break...he was just
like every other old man save he was mentally challenged
... he couldnt talk a single word of any language and he had
a strange habit collecting old ironing boards and painting
pictures of elton john on the cotton...he obviously had
never felt much love for years...maybe never...people desire
their children to be better than them...not just because
they love them-though this is often a very prominent reason- but
because they want to live thru their lives vicariously...they
want their children to meet the needs that were never met
in their childhood...i heard a story once where a baby was
born emotionally and physically deformed...the father turned
to the mother and said..."this one needs our love even more"...this
, of course , seldom happens...imperfection reminds us too
much of the turmoil within our own lives...furthermore...
we can never give a love that hasnt been deposited to us
somewhere down the road prior to the time it is needed to
be given to another.

the old man offered me a glass of wine from a dirty , cracked
cup...i could see his fragile , broken face as i looked
thru the glass...he was beautiful...god loves the broken
hearted...if the wine tasted like piss...then piss never
tasted so good...in his brokenness i was given the gift
of friendship.

some people never learn what is really important in life
until all is taken away...even then , most simply decide
to explore the wonderful world of bitterness...in the west
... we are taught that love is negotiable...and laying our
lives down for one another is insanity...yet this old cocksucker
had a sincere affection for me...in gods eyes his
kingdom probably covered half way across europe...i found
new jerusalem on his living room floor...and the insects
were no less than prize racing horses...the crumbs they
were carrying back to the holes in the fragmented , tattered
walls...chariots made of silver and gold...each with a bumper
sticker that read :"beware of the whore of babylon".

i said good-by to the kind , sad gent...he replied :''eeeee''...then
, as i walked away , i saw an old house cat that thought
he was a farm cat...(i know these things)...and i thought
to myself...he is probably not half as confused as the rest
of us ...he ate his spaghetti...i walked away to find some
more wine an old man that i met on the cobble stone street one day
invited me to his house during a work break...he was just
like every other old man save he was mentally challenged
... he couldnt talk a single word of any language and he had
a strange habit collecting old ironing boards and painting
pictures of elton john on the cotton...he obviously had
never felt much love for years...maybe never...people desire
their children to be better than them...not just because
they love them-though this is often a very prominent reason- but
because they want to live thru their lives vicariously...they
want their children to meet the needs that were never met
in their childhood...i heard a story once where a baby was
born emotionally and physically deformed...the father turned
to the mother and said..."this one needs our love even more"...this
, of course , seldom happens...imperfection reminds us too
much of the turmoil within our own lives...furthermore...
we can never give a love that hasnt been deposited to us
somewhere down the road prior to the time it is needed to
be given to another.

the old man offered me a glass of wine from a dirty , cracked
cup...i could see his fragile , broken face as i looked
thru the glass...he was beautiful...god loves the broken
hearted...if the wine tasted like piss...then piss never
tasted so good...in his brokenness i was given the gift
of friendship.

some people never learn what is really important in life
until all is taken away...even then , most simply decide
to explore the wonderful world of bitterness...in the west
... we are taught that love is negotiable...and laying our
lives down for one another is insanity...yet this old cocksucker
had a sincere affection for me...in gods eyes his
kingdom probably covered half way across europe...i found
new jerusalem on his living room floor...and the insects
were no less than prize racing horses...the crumbs they
were carrying back to the holes in the fragmented , tattered
walls...chariots made of silver and gold...each with a bumper
sticker that read :"beware of the whore of babylon".

i said good-by to the kind , sad gent...he replied :''eeeee''...then
, as i walked away , i saw an old house cat that thought
he was a farm cat...(i know these things)...and i thought
to myself...he is probably not half as confused as the rest
of us ...he ate his spaghetti...i walked away to find some
more wine