Archive for August 7, 2011

Easter Sunday–April 15, 1990   1 comment

Alapaha United Methodist Church, Alapaha, Georgia

Easter Sunday, 1991

Photographs by Kenneth Randolph Taylor

Morning:  8:00 A.M.-12:00 P.M.

I arose early

And

Prepared for the day ahead–

Dressing,

Brushing,

Eating,

And

Quietly praying in my mind–

“Thank You, Mon Dieu,

For a Wonderful beginning

And

For the promise of it.

Also, thank you

For

The meaning of this day.

I pray for

The church activities

At

The Alapaha and Glory UM Churches

Today.

Amen.”–

And went about my day,

Attending Sunday School

And

A glorious Morning Service.

Easter had begun.

Afternoon:  12:00 P.M.-7:00 P.M.

I ate at

The Alapaha UMC

That afternoon,

About 12:45.

Then I returned

To the house

To continue progress

On my U.S. History research folder.

That afternoon

I went out to the

Volleyball field

Behind the parking lot

And

Observed the

Easter Egg Hunt

And

Volleyball game.

Earlier,

A boy of about 10 (ten)

Asked me,

“Do you want to play

Volleyball with us?”

“No,” I said,

Still dressed in my suit.

He,

Curious regarding my motivations,

Asked,

“Why not?”

“I do not like it,”

I responded.

He, being quite intelligent,

Remarked,

“You’re afraid of it.”

The kid should be my shrink.

I worked some more,

Watched volleyball,

And

Ate too many

Sweet things

With low or nihl

Nutritional content.

Sometimes life can be

Boring

And can be quite

Interesting and enjoyable

At others.

Easter was in progress.

Evening:  7:00 P,M.-12:00 A.M.

About 7:30,

I walked out to the

Field of Volleyball,

Where before,

Until 4:00,

People had been.

The sky was beginning

To grow dark

And

The crickets to chirp.

It was wonderful and isolated.

I found a

Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtle

Reclining in the grass,

Taking in what was left

Of the sunlight.

Then I remembered

An event from four hours past–

A small boy

Playing with the petite toy doll.

I took the turtle

To the church nursery,

Threw it in,

And

Closed the door.

I watched little

Television that night

And

Enjoyed the evening.

I went to bed

To prepare for a new day.

Easter was not over.

KENNETH RANDOLPH TAYLOR

April 20, 1990

February 4, 1992

March 14, 2010

http://neatnik2009.wordpress.com/2009/07/29/alapaha-united-methodist-church-alapaha-ga/

A Church Building is a Haunted Place   1 comment

Alapaha United Methodist Church, Alapaha, Georgia

Easter Sunday, 1991

Photograph by Kenneth Randolph Taylor

A WORK OF POETIC PROSE

A church building is a haunted place.

I enter the Alapaha United Methodist Church through the Sunday School wing, walk into the corridor leading to the sanctuary, and gaze through the wood-and-glass door, looking at the altar area.  My ears find themselves filled with the spectral sounds of the past century and two years.

Preaching, congregational singing, and choral singing fill my mind’s ears; these events date to the middle age of the now-defunct Methodist Episcopal Church, South.  These ghostly voices sing and speak to me, calming my soul.  These peaceful voices, however, will come to me only when I am quiet enough to hear my watch tick.  Only when one is quiet does one hear.

When I walk around Alapaha at night, I include in my route a visit to the Alapaha United Methodist Church sanctuary.  My physical form approaches the choir loft, activates the choir lights, and turns back toward the silent rows and empty pews.  The light shines upon the cross and disperses around the altar area.  Standing amidst all this light, I gaze at the dark sanctuary and listen for my spectral friends.  They remember me, for their voices rise to greet my soul.  When I depart the room, I am at peace.

Alapaha United Methodist Church is haunted by benevolent spirits who speak to those who take the time to be quiet and listen.  One who listens to them must return to hear the voices again and again, until one joins them.

A church building is a haunted place.

KENNETH RANDOLPH TAYLOR

http://neatnik2009.wordpress.com/2009/07/29/alapaha-united-methodist-church-alapaha-ga/

A Kiss   Leave a comment

Romeo and Juliet, by Frank Bernard Dicksee

Utt’rance of our fond desires–

Feelings language can’t unroll–

Bursting forth of hidden fires,

Burning deep within the soul.

===========

Voice, as from a spirit coming,

Dumbly speaking, hushed and meek,

Telling the heart a something

That the tongue can never speak.

===========

When fond loved ones meet together,

Token of affection new,;

And when cherished ones must sever,

Pledge that hearts will still be true.

===========

He who’s tasted only knows

Its unspoken source of bliss–

What a stream of nectar flows

From a sweetheart’s juicy kiss.

JOHN DODSON TAYLOR, SR.

Poetry XIII: Inspirations   Leave a comment

The Poet

Sings the songs of the soul

As if a

Mythical Muse

Were dictating to him,

Telling her

The verse to compose.

===

The Poet

Spins a

Wonderful Web of Words

With as much ease

And

As naturally as does

The spider

Spin a web.

KENNETH RANDOLPH TAYLOR

April 16-17, 1991

February 13, 1992

Posted August 7, 2011 by neatnik2009 in Kenneth Randolph Taylor 1990s

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A Wish   Leave a comment

Allegory of Hope, by Francesco Guardi, in 1747

That age would never plow a furrow

On thy smooth and tender brow,

And that thou always to sorrow

Be a stranger, just as now.

========

And that death his ice-cold finger

From thy lovely form restrain,

And that health would always linger,

Would be but a wish in vain.

=========

But be thine a long probation

Where the noblest deeds appear,

And the balm of resignation

Keep thy heart from rack of care.

=========

And through all life’s wild commotion,

All the cares that crowd thy way,

Be thy peace as deep as the ocean,

And thy sorrow light as spray.

JOHN DODSON TAYLOR, SR.

Posted August 7, 2011 by neatnik2009 in John Dodson Taylor Sr.--Poems

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Poetry XII: The Goddess of Poetry   Leave a comment

Poetry

Is the

Stuff of myth

And reality,

The Expression of the Human Soul.

===

The Poet

Composes because

He is inspired

To be creative and free,

Because

She is directly connected

To the Goddess of Poetry.

===

The Goddess of Poetry

Speaks to me

Regularly,

And I,

Grateful,

Obey her dictations

And

Inspirations.

===

Hail,

O Valiant Goddess of Poetry!

Hail,

O Valiant Poet!

KENNETH RANDOLPH TAYLOR

March 7, 1991

Posted August 7, 2011 by neatnik2009 in Kenneth Randolph Taylor 1990s

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To G—–   2 comments

The Bunch of Lilacs, by James Tissot

How long will you keep me thus waiting,

To tell me if you love me or no?

Remember that love is too fleeting,

Too transient, to discourage it so.

========

My affection grows stronger and stronger,

I’ve professed to you time and again,

Then please do not delay longer,

For suspense is love’s deadliest bane.

========

If you love me; Oh! say that you do,

If you don’t, be candid and plain,

And I’ll crush my affection for you,

And we’ll be only good friends again.

JOHN DODSON TAYLOR, SR.

Poetry XI: Inspirations   Leave a comment

Why must people

Compose

Poetry?

===

Why do people

Compose

Poetry?

===

The Muse of Poetry

Inspires them

To write,

And express

Themselves

Eloquently.

===

The Goddess of the Moon,

Diana,

Enraptures them so

That they have

No choice but to

Write and compose

Poetry.

===

Poetry

Is found

Inside the the human soul,

Where the Trinity

Nurtures it

Constantly.

===

That

Is why

People must

Compose

Poetry.

===

That

Is why

People

Compose

Poetry.

KENNETH RANDOLPH TAYLOR

March 7, 1991

Posted August 7, 2011 by neatnik2009 in Kenneth Randolph Taylor 1990s

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To a Young Lady Whose Feelings Had Been Wounded   Leave a comment

Portrait of Lady Meux, by James Abbott McNeill Whistler

Sweet Miss, I beseech you forbear,

Let your anger a moment relent,

And list to my cry and my prayer,

While I humbly and truly repent.

========

If I’ve said anything that would wound

Your feelings to say, now, confound

Myself, for the saying of it.

========

Think you that my heart is so cruel

Thus to wound, and occasion your ire?

Nay, rather my heart is a fuel,

Which for you would easily fire.

========

Come now, let us be reconciled,

Without you all dark the world seems;

Death were sweeter than to be thus exiled,

From the one that my heart so esteems.

JOHN DODSON TAYLOR, SR.

Posted August 7, 2011 by neatnik2009 in John Dodson Taylor Sr.--Poems, Love 1800s

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A Poet: Poetry X   Leave a comment

A Poet is a valiant artist,

A painter with words

And

A sculptor with a typewriter and pen.

KENNETH RANDOLPH TAYLOR

December 3-4, 1990

December 24, 1990

January 8, 1991

Posted August 7, 2011 by neatnik2009 in Kenneth Randolph Taylor 1990s