Monastery Musings Redux

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We looked inside some of the posts by inrumford and here's what we found interesting.

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The company's tagline is "Follow the World's Creators".

inrumford·2 hours agoVideo



Zepparella - Dazed and Confused 

11 Minutes of music, every second worth to watch and listen to!

sunday under the covers

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inrumford·3 days agoPhoto

I never learned to swim
I never learned to fly
to open up my heart
I really had to try

self preservation
that is what I was told
do not open
your heart to the cold

though I was never sure
what I was preserving it for

perhaps all due
to a lack of trust

late is the hour
when things start to rust

91 notes · See All
inrumford·3 days agoPhoto

there are times.
there are times.

little bundles
of events
within a framework
of their own
and mentally shelved
to collect cosmic dust
or left out in the rain to rust

dragged out every now and then
for critical review
then polished up and given to you

‘there was a time once”
each would say
it was just once,

now it won’t go away.

but still

there was a time
you held her in your arms

there was a time
when the beat of her heart
beneath your trembling body
and shook you
to your core

there was a time

but, it is no more

73 notes · See All
inrumford·3 days agoPhoto

the rust,
I remember
the rust.

Texas, in the Summer.

There was a military base
across the street,

we could barely see it
through the dust,
shimmering in the heat.

the sun would rise
just to the left
of the trestle,

we’d squint at silhouettes of trains
passing by
as you would wrestle

with your inability to fly.

You would cross the street
when it got late,
to peer through the hole
in the rusted gate.

I knew you’d been there,
you had rust in your hair,

flakes on your skin.

pieces of what used to be,
pieces of you and me.

we’ll be ok
you would say,

it’s all just a matter of trust.

I remember that day,

I remember
the rust.

I remember,
I remember

you learned how
and I never did.

77 notes · See All
inrumford·3 days agoPhoto

where the sun goes to hide
in yesterday’s tears
unsure if it wants to shine

for it is but a flicker
a fuel that is spent
human kindness

I wonder
where it went

a deaf ear is turned
a blind eye is cast
tomorrow will come

the night will not last

64 notes · See All
inrumford·4 days agoPhoto

where memories exist
to count the sunny hours
into the darkness then recedes
and in the darkness cowers

where memories dance
on solid air
into the sun they melt
as if the world will never care
that joy cannot be felt

where memories still linger
in pools of unwept tears
hoping sunny hours
turn into sunny years

where memories clutch at love
that is no longer there
distilling into loneliness
the sun it cannot share

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inrumford·5 days agoPhoto

in shadows where I do seek
things of which I cannot speak
where I can hear the silence roar
and know that I cannot ignore
the pain I feel each time I see
shadows of my destiny
for they, as well, do seek me out
in the silence they do shout
in a voice only I can hear
though what they say is never clear
thus I must embrace this dread
of all things voiced but never said
and wish somehow I could forget
all things that haven’t happened yet
for it is then that i will see
that I am you and you are me
and what is far is also near
what it is, is never clear
in shadows then, I will stay
I wait for you to point the way

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inrumford·7 days agoVideo

Kilkelly, Ireland, 18 and 60, my dear and loving son John
Your good friend the schoolmaster Pat McNamara’s so good
As to write these words down.
Your brothers have all gone to find work in England,
The house is so empty and sad
The crop of potatoes is sorely infected,
A third to a half of them bad.
And your sister Brigid and Patrick O'Donnell
Are going to be married in June.
Your mother says not to work on the railroad
And be sure to come on home soon.

Kilkelly, Ireland, 18 and 70, dear and loving son John
Hello to your Mrs and to your 4 children,
May they grow healthy and strong.
Michael has got in a wee bit of trouble,
I guess that he never will learn.
Because of the dampness there’s no turf to speak of
And now we have nothing to burn.
And Brigid is happy, you named a child for her
And now she’s got six of her own.
You say you found work, but you don’t say
What kind or when you will be coming home.

Kilkelly, Ireland, 18 and 80, dear Michael and John, my sons
I’m sorry to give you the very sad news
That your dear old mother has gone.
We buried her down at the church in Kilkelly,
Your brothers and Brigid were there.
You don’t have to worry, she died very quickly,
Remember her in your prayers.
And it’s so good to hear that Michael’s returning,
With money he’s sure to buy land
For the crop has been poor and the people
Are selling at any price that they can.

Kilkelly, Ireland, 18 and 90, my dear and loving son John
I guess that I must be close on to eighty,
It’s thirty years since you’re gone.
Because of all of the money you send me,
I’m still living out on my own.
Michael has built himself a fine house
And Brigid’s daughters have grown.
Thank you for sending your family picture,
They’re lovely young women and men.
You say that you might even come for a visit,
What joy to see you again.

Kilkelly, Ireland, 18 and 92, my dear brother John
I’m sorry that I didn’t write sooner to tell you that father passed on.
He was living with Brigid, she says he was cheerful
And healthy right down to the end.
Ah, you should have seen him play with
The grandchildren of Pat McNamara, your friend.
And we buried him alongside of mother,
Down at the Kilkelly churchyard.
He was a strong and a feisty old man,
Considering his life was so hard.
And it’s funny the way he kept talking about you,
He called for you in the end.
Oh, why don’t you think about coming to visit,
We’d all love to see you again.

Songwriters: Matt Molloy
Kilkelly lyrics © Chrysalis Songs (Digital Only)

always loved this song

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inrumford·8 days agoVideo


John Kilzer - Memory In The Making

RIP - John

truth - RIP

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inrumford·9 days agoVideo


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inrumford·10 days agoPhoto

speak in whispered tones,
reverential prayers

the heart inside you moans,
beneath protective layers

sliding by what will not last,
embracing now the cold

hearken then to Winters past,
seek now a hand to hold

we bathe in liquid light
seeking peace
within our hearts

as yearning souls lose sight
of lessons life imparts

always hold love
within you

the more you hold
the more you can give

life becomes
easier to live

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