compound complex

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Posts by compound complex

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  46

  "You will never grow old in this present system of things" -- some campaign tools

  by FatFreek 2005 in

  1. watchtower
  2. scandals

  i am approaching 76 years old.

  i can clearly recall that awake!

  statement and similar during the pre-1975 hype -- "staying alive in '75", et al.

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  compound complex

  THANK YOU, Len!

  It's helpful to see the cover once again, with all the vital statistics. Does the original thread still exist in the archives? I hope so, in order to retrace the contributions leading to the final rendering above.

  Ann was dear to me, in particular; Nurse Sophie was a kick in the pants; Clarence was a jokester; John was onetime missionary partner to a good friend; Mary was sweet and hardworking; George was . . .

  Your insightful point about my relation to them -- the remembrance nestled away somewhere in my cranium till now -- is why I do not regret my time spent as a JW. I could have known these dear people in another time, setting, church . . .

  THANK YOU SO MUCH!
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  19

  The Sea

  by compound complex in

  1. jw
  2. friends

  the sea once held this youngster's heart within its mighty bosom.i loved and cherished the sea, stretching outward beyond infinity.

  i took to the e'er dreary landscape, the dank surroundings soothing me, enveloping me in crawling mists that were more welcomed to me than the evaporating rays of a cavorting summer sun.i, however, am no longer that pensive lad who found comfort in the dark and cold and deep blue sea.

  today, a man in the physical sense, i no longer possess that childlike fascination with my former abode.

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  compound complex

  Thank you, millie!

  So very nice to see you here -- at the sea!

  Best . . .
• 
  19

  The Sea

  by compound complex in

  1. jw
  2. friends

  the sea once held this youngster's heart within its mighty bosom.i loved and cherished the sea, stretching outward beyond infinity.

  i took to the e'er dreary landscape, the dank surroundings soothing me, enveloping me in crawling mists that were more welcomed to me than the evaporating rays of a cavorting summer sun.i, however, am no longer that pensive lad who found comfort in the dark and cold and deep blue sea.

  today, a man in the physical sense, i no longer possess that childlike fascination with my former abode.

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  compound complex

  THE SEA ONCE HELD this youngster's heart within its mighty bosom.
  
  I loved and cherished the sea, stretching outward beyond infinity. I took to the e'er dreary landscape, the dank surroundings soothing me, enveloping me in crawling mists that were more welcomed to me than the evaporating rays of a cavorting summer sun.
  
  I, however, am no longer that pensive lad who found comfort in the dark and cold and deep blue sea. Today, a man in the physical sense, I no longer possess that childlike fascination with my former abode. I reside in The City. Luxuries absent during youth abound, satisfying beyond mere need. The sterile vista I gaze upon is that of steel and stone and glass; its combination in regal, imposing edifices commands my admiring view yet scarcely my heart.
  
  Yesterday's child has vanished from all remembrance . . .
  
• 
  46

  "You will never grow old in this present system of things" -- some campaign tools

  by FatFreek 2005 in

  1. watchtower
  2. scandals

  i am approaching 76 years old.

  i can clearly recall that awake!

  statement and similar during the pre-1975 hype -- "staying alive in '75", et al.

  1. 
  2. 
  3. 
• 

  compound complex

  Greetings, FatFreek:

  Wishing you and yours well.

  Do you recall putting up the cover of AWAKE! that showed the elderly Bethelites whose generation would not pass away until all these things occurred? I identified Clarence Ulrich for you. Many on that cover were dear friends to me -- and they are all gone. As you may already know, not all on the cover claimed to be of the anointed remnant (if that term is even understood by newer JWs).

  I worked with them at Bethel; we were all so dedicated to searching out worthy ones, truly believing our work at the factory would take us to our goal. Not to forget the hours spent in the field after work and all weekend long!

  I don't regret my service to my fellowman and to the One whom I once revered as The Almighty. But I, too, quit college and had 15 minutes of fame as a Bethel poster boy after giving my experience at a Kings County assembly.

  What a world, what a world . . .
• 
  53

  Jw's and beards

  by wannaexit in

  1. jw
  2. friends

  without going into details.

  it appears that new light might be coming down the pipes that beards are acceptable.

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  compound complex

  So, what do you think of my Andy Warholesque ginger head & beard? Can't help it people call me Jesus . . . Of course, the JW Jesus is brunet and has a modern cut!
• 
  53

  Jw's and beards

  by wannaexit in

  1. jw
  2. friends

  without going into details.

  it appears that new light might be coming down the pipes that beards are acceptable.

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  compound complex

  Was Jesus a ginger?

  
  
• 
  3

  Have You Been "Sent to Coventry"?

  by compound complex in

  1. jw
  2. friends

  greetings, fellow posters:.

  if you're from the uk -- or of the pure english expression in another kingdom -- you have probably heard this expression.

  i learned it from an elderly english chap.

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  compound complex

  Greetings, Fellow Posters:

  If you're from the UK -- or of the pure English expression in another kingdom -- you have probably heard this expression. I learned it from an elderly English chap. It seems to fit many of us here in our circumstances:

  To send someone to Coventry is an English idiom meaning to deliberately ostracise someone. Typically, this is done by not talking to them, avoiding someone's company, and generally pretending that they no longer exist. Victims are treated as though they are completely invisible and inaudible. -- Wikipedia.org
  
• 
  36

  My Guitar, My Friend

  by Tallon in

  1. social
  2. entertainment

  one of my interests is music and i play an acoustic guitar.. i wrote a poem about my guitar and thought i'd share it with you.

  my poem doesn't match up to some of compound complex's work however, i'd really appreciate any feedback you can give.. my guitar my friend.

  reaching for my old companion.

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  compound complex

  Greetings, Tallon:

  Yes, where are all the other musicians?

  I apologize for not replying sooner, having been caught up with my own posting issues and forgetting momentarily the vital need to support the writing of fellow posters. Your poem is very well written and touches the heart, which is the main thing, of course. I am honored but not feeling so worthy of mention in your OP. I'm a pianist and music teacher, yet I, too, need to broaden my scope. I shall do so as of now because of this thread.

  Stick with it, Tallon. Ten years of writing here has shown me the highs and lows of interest in poetry (considering who's on board at any given time). As others have supported and encouraged me over the years, I ask you to keep writing, keep posting, keep honing your craft.

  Blessings and peace . . .
• 
  92

  The Pacific Northwest

  by compound complex in

  1. jw
  2. experiences

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  compound complex

  THE PACIFIC COAST was my surrogate guardian. It held both my heart and my spirit within its mighty bosom.

  My impoverished family loved and cherished the sea, stretching outward beyond infinity; but it was I, more than the others, who took to the e'er dreary landscape. In a most peculiar manner, the dank surroundings soothed me and enveloped me in crawling mists that were more welcomed to me than the evaporating rays of a cavorting summer sun.

  I, however, am no longer that pensive lad who found comfort in the dark and cold and deep blue sea. Today, a man in the physical sense, I no longer possess that childlike fascination with my former abode. I reside in The City. Luxuries absent during youth abound, satisfying beyond mere need. The sterile vista I gaze upon is that of steel and stone and glass; its combination in regal, imposing edifices commands my admiring view yet scarcely my heart.

  Yesterday's child has vanished from all remembrance . . .
  
• 
  24

  The Sadness of the Poet

  by compound complex in

  1. jw
  2. friends

  i feel a sadness so deep that friends wonder why my art and my blinds remain undrawn.. gone is the muse who promised me solacewhile guys played ball and climbed tall trees.. a blank canvas before me says, "here's your life, where has it gone?".

  is it too late to become what imight have become .

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  compound complex

  I watch the black oaks of my wood.

  They sway gently against an early morning expanse that is an uncharacteristic gray, a gray illumined by a softer, gentler summer sun.

  Yesterday's glossy chartreuse leaves of the stately sentinels are, today, a buffed, sage foliage. Strangely, the look, the feel, the mood that prevail transport me back to the foggy coast of my youth. At that particular time of my life, I was not so taken with the unrelenting cool of a Pacific summer.
  

  Now, in this land of perpetual sun, the uncommon wafting of damp and fresh upon my body is healing . . .