Should Auld Acquaintance    

And too soon this will end and another begin

we check ourselves for revisions

but the New Year demands newness not regurgitation.

So we meditate on our ki, adjust our yang

and make love to our synapses.

All is ready

just wait for the bell to toll

the clock to strike

the kisses to smack

the mistletoe will do the rest.

But wait.

We did this last year, and the year before and the year….

So why should this year be different?

A year older, lonelier, bolder, surer?

Yes, of our new destiny!

Let us go back then to

the beginning of our time here.

It was about our acquaintances, friends

bookends that held the 

leaves of our meaning together.

Yes, that was it.

We start again each year

reminding ourselves of our

loved ones pining for each other

in some forgotten region that we

have not entered for the past 365 days.

Divine Providence 

Suffering –

God given for

punishment

&

edification?

The sacrifice

of suffering offers

no reward

but

the consciousness of the self

floating

in

a void

of its own

misunderstanding.

Pain –

is the measurement

of

our trial

through

this

life,

The

litmus

test

of our

machine

existence.

Man will give up everything but his suffering!

God if you are near

God if you are near

Listen to my heart.

If I’m a short distance

Tell be how far.

In your garden of senses

I breathe in butterflies

Littering the sky

As the dank putrid earth

Blossoms in jasmine.

Alone with the creatures of your roots

I mark my place - forgiven, forgotten.

THE RITUALS FOR SUCCESS

THE RITUALS FOR SUCCESS

Imagine rising each morning, exercising (nothing frantic- perhaps a short walk) some stretches, sit-ups; Tai Chi; meditating 15-20 minutes on just 3 things you plan to be successful at today. You recite your prays and affirmations eat a healthy breakfast and leave your home with a simple ritual for success!

This simple ritual for success, of a good diet, exercise and mindfulness about your day ahead,  if cultivated, will increase and reward you continuously throughout your days, weeks, months and years to come. Because the first rule for success is consistency that builds confidence! And confidence like many things can be learned if we are consistent! But, it requires a daily ritual for success to remind us of what is important, meaningful and rewarding to us.

My name is Ian Moore, Life & Career Coach, Teacher, and Writer. I want to share with you how to build confidence by developing a consistent daily ritual for success.

I do not come to you as someone who studied these things in college. I’ve not written any dissertations on the migrating habits of career birds or the disillusion of lost Jobs in the age of technological. No! I come to you as an entrepreneur who has had to re-invent himself, many times over. I come to you as someone who has learned that the golden rule of life is that you must never ever, EVER give up!

I want to discuss 3 ideas that are saboteurs to consistency and success:

One, what frustration teaches us about how we see the world?

Two, why we are so down on ourselves, and

Three, how can we transform negativity into confidence?

No Good Deed

NO GOOD DEED GOES UNPUNISHED

Joyce was my cousin, from the Islands, and we’d had such a good time when I was there on a recent trip, I felt close to her. And so, as I was always in need of family love I agreed to be a co-signer for her daughter’s student loan. It did flash across my mind that my cousin had more close family members living in the States who could have been the co-signer, but of course, I ignored those primal feelings of reason and dread and went happily to the gallows placing my head in the noose to be strung up.

To be continued http://www.smashwords.com/profile/view/icmoore

A Writer

A Writer

        “…and he was a foreigner from a former colony and so I completely missed him in my youth, distracted as I was by all the imperial notions of ‘proper’ writing. When I did find him, forty years later, it was through movies and sketches and bits of hero worshiping stories some true but mostly false.”

        “…it was in a movie, I got the first glimpse; a famous actor who played Him, whose claim to fame was that he’d been sued for having a big dick, and He was a drunk in Spain hanging around matadors and beautiful people drinking in cafés in some mythical Hollywood time. And He’d been injured and couldn’t fuck even though He had all these romantic encounters. I thought it really strange and it kind of added sexual tension to the narrative and the story went on until it just ended, like His short stories that I read much later and put down because they had no plot except running out of well-described words.”

        “…I preferred adjectives and adverbs and modes and explicit sex and adventures and narratives that took me to another time, country, sensibility, and culture; a plot that could drag me out of the prison of my youth. Bottled-up as I was on an island full of words and words on words written over centuries, dissected, pruned and graded by great universities and great myths and great legends and brilliant critics. It was safer for me to remain on the sports fields and the margins of industry and the dusty roads of the former empire scratching out songs of painful memories than admit that I could be….”

       

       

American Charity

AMERICAN CHARITY

Ships coming from a distance carry everyone’s dreams ashore. For some, they slip in like eddies of tides; for others they crash against the rocks of poor fortune . 

Each brings their new song of freedom, coming to America.

CHAPTER ONE

Charity Anasie waited at the side of the dusty roadway. The carrot red earth fought with the deep emerald green plants that exploded above her head. A canopy of shade formed over the hot asphalt. Charity stood under the shade and stretched her thin ebony arm above her head to hold up the drooping palm and prevent it from catching her hair. Despite having spent a whole day at work, her starched pink blouse and pleated blue skirt still held their neatness. Her long angular ebony face, wide smiling mouth and bright open eyes gave no hint of the stressful day she had spent in the Ghanaian Government statistics office, under high ceiling fans that continuallyed to circulated hot stale air. Charity was radiantly excited because she was going to the post office to pick up a letter, hopefully, from her husband, Conrad, who had been in America for over two years and away from her for nearly four years.

It was the end of 1994 the world was not a peaceful place, but it never had been. The civil war in Liberia and Sierra Leone seemed like just another African power struggle. It would be ten years for the world to learn the full extent of the horrors there. Ghana was at peace, the UK was at peace and the U.S. was at peace, despite their perennial political scandals. Charity was beginning to become concerned about Conrad being away so long. She had heard of many women in Ghana who had lost their husbands to the fast life of America. One of her cousins had even surprised her husband, on a trip to America, and found that he was married to a white woman! This, she prayed, would never happen to her!