A Lonely Heaven (15-12-2006)

Each day I venture into the world, with one thing on my mind; Make the world better for those to come. So many have so little; too few have too much. I care not how you came by your riches; I care not for the "Family Fortune." I care about those who need what you take for granted.

Each day millions of children, starve and die around the world; while the rich throw food in the garbage. There are people without clothes, wearing rags, while the closets of the rich expand and bulge with clothing they can't even remember buying. The poor without shelter, risk exposure and death, while the rich own multiple home, apartments and buildings with no-one in them.

If these are the people Mankind aspire to be, then, look you not for a place in Heaven; for there is no room for YOU!

Man says, it's not a sin to be greedy; though Greed is Avarice, and Avarice is the first Deadly Sin. Mankind wonder around their self-important lives, calling on their Gods to protect them, as they compile their riches; while they do nothing to enrich the lives of others. your prayers have fallen on Devilish ears; where else comes the wealth, and riches. Your contracts have been numbered and filed.

Your accommodations await YOU.

How much is Too much?

How many have to die before mankind really cares?

How many children should starve before mankind share their plate of food?

How many should go naked, before mankind spares a jacket?

How may cars do you need? how fast should it go? How luxurious the ride to HELL?

Churches around the world; regardless of religion, sect, denomination, ethnic background; regardless of who they pray to; regardless of how they pray, have all failed in their quest.

Many say "Kill the Infidel"; when they are themselves the "Infidel." Christians say, "Follow the Light"; when they are themselves in the "Dark." Every faith has only "ONE" underlying philosophy; Love your fellow man, as if he were your brother. God's Golden Rule: "Do unto others, as you would have them do unto You." Find me One Million in Six and a half Billion souls on this earth, who can say they follow the "Golden Rule" rule without fault: never wavering for self gain. Anyone who truly is his brother’s keeper. Anyone who would share all there is on this world to share.

Poor families, know well how hard it is to survive, as the rich fill their coffers with the wealth from your pockets, and share nothing. Know well the slavish jobs you do; while the rich languish at resorts, in exotic places, patting each other on the back, for the jobs the poor has done, and share nothing.

Is it not time to stop coveting a better life, and start to lead a bettor life. What care you for the wealthy who are jailed for their theft of your money? What care you for the wealthy who cry foul, because they, like us are caught driving drunk, or high on drugs, or molesting the innocent, making statement, that show their nature? Is it "NEWS" when it happens to you? The only time you'll find yourself in the news paper surely, is when you die. We all die.

How much money do we need, when we die? How much clothing do we need, when we die? How many cars do we need, when we die? How much food to fills our stomachs, when we die?

Watch your Television, see and remember; the people on there, don't care about you, only for the money to give them, or the ways to make them richer. Advertisers, world wide, portray the poor average person as an idiot; wasting their lives, chasing riches, to purchase what ever they are selling; Wasting what little money they have, on material things, on expensive things, on needless things; while children around the world care only for tomorrow, flipping the coin of Life and Death.

Banks fill they coffers; their executives may grow fat on your hard earned money; while they refuse to help you get ahead. They'll lend your money to those who are rich, but not to you. Corporations grow fat on the sweat of your brow, but never share the wealth with those who made them rich.

When will we say no more. When will we say STOP? When will we take back our lives? When will we care for the "Future Custodians of Paradise," each, every and all children; everywhere.

What legacy do we leave? what lessons are we teaching? what kind of world are we leaving behind? All the money in the world could never buy another planet for our children to live on; if we destroy the one, we have today.

If you can't understand that! You need not look for a place in "Heaven", or whatever "Here After" you believe in. Whatever your religion believes happens to your when you pass on; for yours has been a "FAILED QUEST."


Written by R. Anthony H. Rock, December 15th, 2006.

© copyright R Anthony H. Rock

Short Stories by R. Anthony H. Rock (Jan 2010)

“A Caribbean Christmas Story”

     Christmas occasions itself in many countries across the world in different climbs. This short tale occasions itself under the warmth of the Caribbean Sun, on a quiet island. Christmas is past here as it is done anywhere else, with well wishes, gift giving and good cheers from one and all, but it too, can be marred by the brutal reality.

Not all families have finances to reward each other at Christmas, neither do they have so diverse a selection of gifts, here life is more modest, simpler; where a word and a handshake still have meaning and carry veracity.

Standing on the pathway of a busy street corner, a young lad, fourteen years old; his unkempt hair showing the first tendrils of Dreadlocks, fashionably worn by the members of his peer group. His bright brown eyes sparkle with wonder. Christmas Eve is tonight and there'd be gifts to open on Christmas morning.
His clothes belie an informal upbringing; one could see the repairs in his clothes; well-worn and aged. Sewn and re-sewn, he lazed in that uniform; handed down to him from an older brother, now away at some University in the United States; an Athletic Scholarship or some such; awarded for his prowess in what came naturally; running.

The boy looks around hesitantly. Precautious he took tentative steps toward home. Beside him, the sparkle of Gold flecked khaki paint, pinned striped and lacquered; a bike he had made the final payment on. He would not ride it home, nor would he dare sit on it for any part of the distance; it was the gift for his father on Christmas. 43 weeks, every spare penny and dollar had been saved for this. He would wipe the dust of with a damp cloth; the tires too; it would gleam as the sun beamed through the windows on Christmas.

Earlier he had seen his nemesis, a schoolboy bully, rounding a corner across the street and get into a dilapidated vehicle. The rust barely holding onto the remains of paint, long faded door panels. It had gone that way. Away from him, but that was no consolation. The next turn was a Roundabout and could bring them back in minutes. It would be best to wait in the midst of the crowd, in safety.

At home, his Grandmother and mother prepared the evening meal, with light chatter of the evening's festivities and the morning, yet to come or how much joy would there be at dinner that night. All the favourites were ready; for Anton, there were Saltfish Bakes.

Anton’s next steps brought him to a small vendor’s door, where he stopped and looked around, in every direction; no sign of Victor or his cronies, the way seemed safe; he continued. Stopping next at every corner to observe, the way was clear, walking the bicycle; lifting it over the puddles and filth that were Market Street.

A few more blocks and he would be home, safe. He would hang the bike in the shed, in a dark corner, where his father wouldn’t see it. He walked confidently; his street loomed just ahead and home at the bottom of a low hill. Looking both ways; he lifted the bicycle onto his shoulder and stepped into the street.

A dilapidated Blue car screeched to a halt inches from him. Any contact, the injuries would have been fatal. He stood frozen. Stretching to reach from the window of the car was Victor, a devilish smile broadening across his face. Out of the passenger window he pointed a revolver at Anton. Rooted to the spot, where he’d stepped, stood Anton, bike on his shoulder.

People scurried about their business, getting out of harm's way; cared little of what they saw and less of what would transpire,. Victor stepped from the open car door, slamming it caused Rust and faded Paint chips to rain in the mud.

A few more minutes and he would have been home. Where had he let his guard down?
     “Where ya tink ya going in such a hurry, bwoy?” Victor inquired, waving the gun lazily through the air.
     “Home,” Anton’s reply. His stomach churned, butterflies readying themselves for flight.
     “M’, see you get me a bicycle for Christmas. No need to give it me tomorrow, m’ can take it right now.” Victor smile grew.
     “It’s for my father, not you.” Touched by courage scattered here and there, netting butterflies.
     “M’ say, the bike is mine 'n' m' take it now!” Victor pointed the gun directly between his eyes, Anton stiffened.

The weight on his shoulder eased, as the bike was lifted by the driver. Put in the car; Victor backed away, sat with a grin; as the car sped off. Anton watch only a few second, before giving chase. He closed the gap quickly and was a few steps from the bike sticking out of the trunk, when a horn sounded; he was forced to break off in oncoming traffic. The bus behind turned and followed the car as Anton stepped out of the street.

Anton reached out, caught hold of the bus as it passed; in continued pursuit. If only he could reach a wheel. He could pull it from the trunk. He wasn’t thinking clearly. Victor had the gun, what could he do. The bike and its owner turned the next corner and were gone from sight as the bus continued along its route.

Anton leaped off the bumper, turned towards home. He now travelled twice the distance measured before the encounter. This time, without a bike. Head down, walking slowly, discouraged and alone. People brushed passed, bumped him out of their way, he walked desperate in thought. Deep contemplation took each step. What would he, could he, give his father for Christmas? He had no money to buy another bike or any other gift.

Anton crossed a familiar street and looked up. He was at the Bike Store again. He’d just gotten the bike here; what seems hours ago. The bikes were arranged in rows out front, locked together. Bent over, an attendant assisted to a customer's needs, another purchased was being set free of its chain, then set to one side. The two, client and attendant stepped into the store to conclude their business.

Without thought to consequence, Anton hopped on the bike and pedalled away.

At home safe with no pursuit. He wiped down the frame, the tires, oiled the chain and hung the bike in the corner of the dark shed; closed the door and entered the house.
     “Hi Nan, hi mom, smells good…” he kissed both women, sniffed at pots, savoured the aromas, picked up a Saltfish bake; stuffed it into his mouth, thinking no one had seen him. Granny smiled and slapped his bottom with a wooden spoon.
     “Out of here…enough, wait for Dinner.”

He washed his face and hands, went to the room he shared with his uncle and older brother, which would be tonight. Robert Jr. would be home for Christmas. Had 9 months really passed so quickly? Uncle was out, so he was alone for a time. He went over the events of the last few minutes in his head. He was unsure. Had seen him ride off with the bike and hoped no one had. He could hear his grand-mother singing hymns in the kitchen. Her voice was always soothing to him.

Time passed quickly and dinner time neared. The clatter of dishes and cutlery said the table was being readied for dinner. He could hear voices in the other room; thought his uncle was home, possibly his father; the voiced were indiscernible as the door was closed.

There came a soft knock at the room door.
     “Anton?” That was granny's voice. “Are you in here?”
     “Yes,” Anton replied, and turned from his desk as Granny entered.
     “There is a Policeman here, looking for you…”
     “Me? Why me?” He had been caught, his body began to shiver, up and down the spine.
     “Something about a stolen Bike…”
     “Granny, I stole a bike today.” He relayed the details of the event to his Grandmother, leaving nothing out. The tears rolled down his cheek, as his confessed. She put her arm around him, consoled him.
     “Let me see what I can do…” she wiped his face. “…wait here.”

She left. He could be heard voices in the next room. The door flew open and his father entered, pipe streaming spilt a pleasant aroma into the room. A professor at the local college and well respected in the Province and on the Island.
     “What do you have to say for yourself young man?” The stern look sent streams of terror up and down Anton’s body.
     “Sorry dad…” he trailed off, unable to get the remaining words out.”
   “I had a strange phone call today, which tells me you have been up to no good.” Father grimaced; his name and reputation could be at stake, if this matter wasn’t cleared up soon.
     “What do you have to say for yourself?”

No words escaped Anton’s lips. He collapsed to the bed.

          “Well have you nothing to say?”

The screech of tires heard outside in the street brought a halt to interrogation. There was yelling and a loud bang and then there was screaming and more yelling. All that din outside, but father stood rooted to the spot where he first entered the room. A patient man, he waited for reply.
     “Robert, come out here,” Grandmother yelled. Robert was the first of her 5 children,  Anton’s father; head of the family since Grandfather’s passing the year before. It would remain a tight-knit family as long as Robert was in charge.

At the front of the house, the police had a young boy in handcuffs, while others searched another boy. One officer approached Robert, notepad in hand.
     “Are you the owner of this house?”
     “Yes,” he replied inquisitively. “Why, what has happened here?”
     “We trailed two boys here; found them attempting to breaking into a shed back there. They were described after a Store robbery earlier this afternoon. Some Bikes were stolen and one was found in your shed, another was recovered and we have reason to believe your son is the owner of one of the bikes seized. Can you shed any light on this situation?” The officer was detailed in describing the Bikes.
     “I have no idea what is going on. I have just returned from school.”
     “The Shopkeeper claims your son purchased a Bike earlier.” He pointing out a gold flecked khaki painted, pinned striped and lacquered bicycle leaned against the tree in the front yard.
     “Recovered from that boy, who had a gun.” He pointed.
     “I am still waiting for how this affect us.”
    "Well, one of these boys stole some Bike from a Bike Store this afternoon, just after your son purchased a Bike. Your son was seen on video riding a bike from the Store. Which is bike is difficult to tell from the surveillance video.
     “Yes, the Shopkeeper called me a short while ago. One moment.” He shouted, “Anton!”
     “Yes dad,” Anton said, still wiping tears as he approached.
     “What do you know about these Bikes?” Father’s stern glare fixed Anton to the spot.

Seeing Victor in handcuffs gave Anton courage. He stood up, no longer looking down; he met his father eyes and said.
     “I bought a bike for you for Christmas, to replace the old one you’ve been riding. Yours is old and rusting; I thought you would give the old one to me once you have the new one. I could fix the old one and ride it to school. On my way home, Victor took it from me. I chased them, but couldn't catch them…”

Before he could finish the tale, the officer interrupted.
     “Yes, that was reported as well. We will charge these boys with the Assault with... and Theft of both Bikes. Thank you son; you can have your Bike back.”

Anton beamed, did not take a single step towards the Bike, now just steps away, leaned against the tree. The officer turned, went over to a number of Patrol Cars and spoke with other officers; got in and left. The handle bars and the saddles protruding from their trunks as the vehicles departed.
     “Well Anton,” father said quietly, “Go get that bike and lock it in the shed.” He complied and went to his room, to await father’s decree of Punishment.

Dinner passed without incident in joviality and humour. Everyone at the table enjoyed the meal and the reunion of family, Robert Jr. was home, uncle sang and mother and granny had prepared a meal fit for the most excellent of Christmas Eve.

The joyful morning arrived, noisily with the crow of a rooster in the distance. The birds sang sweetly through an open window as the clatter of dishes and cutlery heard in the kitchen, descried Breakfast was being prepared.

Anton wash his face, brushed his teeth and dressed quickly, wanting to be the ready to open presents. He could smell the sweet aromas coming from the kitchen as he opened the door. It stirred his brother; he arrived late that evening.
     “You up already?” his brother whispered.
     “Hurry; there are presents to open…” Anton smiled, “…me first.”

Breakfast was spent much like dinner the night before, with joy and laughter. As Granny sang she readied herself for Church. Some presents were opened. There were gifts for all, exchanged, but for Anton, there was nothing from Dad. As he opened the last of the gifts Anton hugged and kissed each person. His father sat in his chair smoking his pipe, satisfied with the morning’s events. Anton looked at his father.
     “Merry Christmas dad,” kissed him on the cheek, turned to walk away.
     “Where do you think you’re going?” Father said smugly, taking the pipe from his lips. “I have something for you.”
     “Getting ready for Church. I'm going with Granny,” Anton said.
     “Come with me, we have to discuss last night…” Father rose and the two of them exited the room. As they approached the shed, father tossed Anton his keys, “Go ahead open it.”

Apprehension fought against anticipation; a stalemate. Had father had given Anton the old bike? He would not need to walk to school anymore. He unlocked the shed, threw wide the door. There stood two New Bikes of differing size; one for Father, one for Son.

     “Thank you dad. It is more than I wanted. Thank you very, very much.” Anton beamed. There in the shed, was the very bike he had stolen from the bike store.

       “Your Grandmother told me the Story last night. I am proud that you told the Truth. The Spirit of Christmas is not in giving or getting Gifts, but in the sharing of Truth. Granny told me how long you saved to buy a bike; I thought it best you have one of your own, so we can ride; together. Merry Christmas son.”

© copyright R Anthony H. Rock

Man-kind vs Peace?

I open this dissertation, first by saying welcome and hello. Poet Leo, am I. You know little of me, but I know much about you. Secondly, I open with a unique question. One I have asked often throughout History and many of those I have become acquainted with and their friends over the past few years.

     One I have wondered about for what seems to be all my lifetimes. Every time I observe another day’s conflict, another day’s economic crisis or another day of war. Every new day there is some new atrocity. So I contemplated, thought long and hard on these human crises, a search for truth and I understood the question no human, no army, no government, no ethnic, no religious or cultural group as ever asked of its patrons. The one question rarely posed, rarely answered in the history of Mankind’s constant warfare with themselves;

“What is PEACE?”

     Before humanity can answer this question, I would ask any who would answer, to first put aside your anger, it is wrongly placed; secondly, think not of their individual lives, but of the lives of everyone on this world. It is always easiest to see the world from ones own eyes. It is most difficult to see the world through the eyes of others, as it is to walk a mile in another’s shoes, but for one to answer this question with an educated, experienced, knowledgeable and informed answer, one must look at the world through those other eyes.

"What is PEACE?"

     Peace is described as; freedom from wars, or the time when a war or conflict ends; the signing of the peace agreement. Look closely at the world about you, treaties and pacts have been signed, charters and demands have been made from one end of history to the next and still Mankind wars. As one looks at a world in so called crisis, all peoples, do not see with open eyes; it is not a world in crisis, but it is Mankind in crisis. At no time during history has the world seen complete freedom from war, so this cannot be a definition for Peace. The freedom from war, where ‘Mankind once said “never again,” is incarcerated by soldiers following orders they have yet to understand.

"What is PEACE?"

     Peace is described as; tranquillity: a calm and quiet state, free from disturbances or noise. This tranquility can be and has been experienced many times the world over, at most times when the world is asleep, only to awaken to the noise and disturbances of lives lived in poverty, disease, desolation and war; fore if a single human walking the Earth this day goes hungry, they have not know the calm and quiet states, that monks and priests observe beyond the norm of civilization. However the world is not at Peace, fore it has never known such calm, such quiet state, lasting tranquility. The tranquility of Peace is interrupted by war, crime and turmoil.

"What is PEACE?"

    Peace is described as: mental calm: a state of mental calm and serenity with no anxiety. Are such transcendental states the norm of every day life? When during the course of this fast-paced, avarice and economic world today, does anyone have the few moments for mental calm, under the daily stresses of their own lives, not to mention the lives of all those who struggle for survival in the war-torn regions of the world; those who hunger and dwell in poverty, their lives have fewer moments of mental calm. The mental calm is replaced by constant stress and worry over what the next day will bring.

"What is PEACE?"

     Peace is described as; harmony: freedom from conflict or disagreement among people or groups of people. In what part of the world today can one find such harmony, this freedom from conflict and disagreement. Is Africa, the Middle East, Europe, the Americas or any part of the world where crime exists, where war rages, where average people disagree and conflict with each other know of such harmony. Look at this congregation gathered here today in disagreement of what is happening elsewhere in the world. While together you stand here in unison, angered at the actions of others, and the lives lost through petty conflicts and the inhumane treatment of you peers, thousands of miles away, there is no harmony. The harmonious freedom from conflict is enjoyed, only by those with enough money to watch from a distance.

"What is PEACE?"

     Peace is described as; peace treaty: a treaty agreeing to an end of hostilities between two warring parties. Where in the world have these treaties be honoured after ratification and signing. As new leaders take control of countries and states around the world, where are the ancient treaties signed in good faith honoured? Promises made and never kept, initiate disagreements and conflicts across the globe, where treaties and agreements have been forgotten. Treaties signed to ensure Peace are used to initiate wars.

"What is PEACE?"

     Peace is described as; law and order: the absence of violence or other disturbances within a state. Where Peace reigns throughout the land. In what land do they speak; when to land has crime, there is no peace; when there is poverty, there is no peace; when billions starve, there is no peace; when countries and states conflict and war, there is no peace. Where innocent people struggle to survive, while fanatics war, there is no peace. Look at the state of the world, the Middle East, Africa, Afghanistan, Europe Union, China, the Russian Republic, I see no freedom from war, no tranquility, no mental calm, no harmony, no treaties and no law and order. The laws enacted to Serve and Protect are daily used to enslave and oppress.

"What is PEACE?"

     When you consider the World, every Country, every State, every Region take unto themselves laws for some never enforced for others. Where the rights of humans and humanity can be altered depending on ones religion, ethnic background the color of your skin can be observed as atrocities perpetrated on innocent people. No only are these things evident, but Mankind as a whole does nothing to resolve them. They refuse to stand together, because they fear each other.

     While that fear festers in every heart, mind and soul, it is up to each of you to choose what happens next. Content you may be with your lives here in this seemingly peaceful land, but look more closely. Troops, Canadian Troops risk life and limb in other countries to preserve that which none have ever had. How fair the mental state of families and friends of those fighting in Afghanistan and elsewhere in the world.

     While you stand here, I am sure there is little mental calm within this group, not to mention those who are forced to endure the warring states, which encircle their lives with death and destruction. The Gaza Strip holds your attention today, but what will hold your attention tomorrow. Peace should hold your attention every day. Peace is the lesser violence that Mankind chooses to ignore. It is a balanced equality and harmony of “all things.” Mankind knows not Peace, until they understand and agree with a single conceptual ideal of Peace.

"What is Peace?"

     Peace has many definitions, but no tangible effect to the human race. Until all can live in Peace, none are at peace. It is terrifying to Mankind‘s warrior leaders. Terror is observed as the enemy on both sides of a battlefield, where the innocent lives of children are lost, where adult disagree and conflict over, wealth, power and fame, where humans are oppressed and enslaved through economic means.

"What is Peace?"

    If all Mankind cannot share in its warmth, in its harmony and in its mental calm and serenity. For how many years have the people along thinning lines on the battle maps of the world have to endure the human sacrifice at the hands of other humans, These are your brothers, your sisters and your families, who live on both sides of this conflict, neither side knows why, they just know they fight. Hidden in the political boardrooms of the world, the UN and these petty leaders cry out for an end to hostility, but does nothing to stop the bloodshed.

     As many protest against hostility, they too use hostility to gain their point, be not thus, lead by example. All those who fight and engage in wars evade peace. On cannot gain Peace through hostile means. Mankind has yet to learn this. What benefit to the protest, if one cannot lead voice to Peace through Peace. They will provoke you, they will engage you, they will oppress you; they will drive fear into your hearts, with rhetoric and irony. These are words, they do not inflict pain, only action does. Their lies will echo in your ears as you gather in harmony and Peace. They seek the turn your attention from these conflicts, these war and these disagreements. Do not be so easily turned.

     As you stand here today, look at each other, united as brothers and sisters; without you they have no one to war with. Take care brothers and sisters, do not become one of them. Do not seek Peace through violence on their level, but through the reduction of violence. 6 degrees separates each of you from every other person in the world, what peace have you shared with them this day or any day?

   Peace must be earned. Earned through the efforts of Peaceful intention, through Peaceful means. Diplomats seek only personal gains, not the service of the innocent; theirs is a world above the laws they install to govern others. As the united peoples of the World, there can be only one set of rules for all Mankind to live by. United as they are Nations, as long as they have been together, no standard has ever been set.

     How many civilizations have already been lost in search of Peace? How many innocent lives have been ended, fighting for Peace? How many thousands of years has Mankind yearned, dreamed and begged for Peace. If Mankind’s leaders cannot provide Peace, it is time to seek new direction. The UN is powerless to act, political, ethnic and religious leaders promote war and conflict through fear. A non-existent fear, which they use to control the masses. As you stand here gathered, do you fear the person beside you, or those protesting as you do around the world. All of you together protest WAR to gain Peace, but know not what Peace is. It is time to learn about Peace through Peace.

     How many World, Political, Ethnic, Religious, Cultural and Community Leaders have been selected for their want for War and not their Service to you or Mankind or Peace. From the security of their fortified strongholds, they command armed personnel to shed the blood of families, friends, loved ones, while children die in the streets. They claim they serve YOU, it is time they served you in Peace! Mankind wants Peace; know this: that Peace comes only when all Mankind shares Peace; when all the people of the world can stand as you do now, united against the tyrants of WAR.

I observe from on high that Peace starts there; there with you gathered together; united to end the Wars that shed Innocent blood, not only in the Middle East or Africa, but anywhere and everywhere around the World! It can be done and it can be done Peacefully!

written May 13th 2009

© copyright R Anthony H. Rock (Director at TRi-E Foundation)

The Word of God?

I put forth to Humankind in this blog a simple Question:
"What is the Word of God?"

Is the "Word of God" in what is said by the members of this, the Human Species?

Is it in the Deeds of Humankind?

Is it in the Dreams of Humankind?

     I ask, because I am aware of how many times humanity uses terminology such as; "God said this" and "God said that." The truth is God speaks to the hearts of the faithful through his messengers; fore the Word of God is the "Light of Wisdom." Too few among humanity's members have such wisdom or enlightenment to understand such words as would be directly from God, that only his messengers are capable of comprehension.

     While there are numerous writings and stories and other forms of text issued the "Word of God." there are fewer still who have heard the Voice utter such words as God would utter. The Commandments all, ye have broken. The Seven Deadly Sins are the way and direction of humanity's lifestyles of excess; utilised. The Golden Rule is completely ignored. So, where then and how then does anyone claim to have heard such words? When they have always refused to act on those  words that had been passed down from generation to generation from the beginning of recorded Time.

     Having heard such words as would have been spoken to one such as I; I believe for faith's sake; I seek no further proof. While Mankind seeks the excesses of Life, they are not mine to seek; while Mankind ignores God words; they are not words I ignore. How then can Mankind believe such words as Mankind would claim are from God; when the human messenger of such words lives not by the very words the claim are from God?

     In human conflict; both opponents pray to God for aid in vanquishing their enemies; when God has commanded, saying; "Thou shalt not kill." Religious leaders the world over spew forth words of religious interpretation; all supposedly issued by God, but none of these leaders are prepared to live by those very words. How then can Mankind live by them? As Mankind ventures into their places of worship; I propose a test; close your eyes; kneel down in pray and silently say these words:

     "Heavenly Father, I come before you in Jesus' name. Guide me from this path Mankind has set before me; that I may know thy Wisdom."

Then listen to the drum beat of your heart for the words that his messengers will inscribe there for you and you alone.

     No one, no other can tell any other what God wishes of each member of the Human Race; fore each member walks a path that no other can tread. While the guidelines are simple, it is in the following that Mankind has failed. All Mankind is guilty of being human and in being human, Mankind errs, when they contrive and conspire to inform others of their interpretation of what is the "Word of God."

I wrote this Blog upon this day for all to come and read; fore here within the text inscribed, no word from Him concede. So, all may come, observe as I; how Mankind has changed the "Word;" fore the altered meaning gives the false Shepherds control upon their flocks.

(Dec. 6th 2007)

"Men of the Cloth", and "Men of the Church", are not necessarily "Men of God." "Men of God" do not necessarily reside in the "House of God."

Yet, "God" is always spoken of and found in places of confinement such as Jails; is not a Jail, a "House of God?"

I believe the ideal "House of God" is made up of three parts.

The "Holy Trinity."

The Father, The Son, and The Holy Spirit or The Mind, The Heart, and The Soul.

It is here you will find your "House of God;" within each of us!"

Written Apr. 27^th 2004

© copyright R Anthony H. Rock