I

atticus and lovelace what shall i do
but bleed words

II

great poets die this century
great artists too
there is one world
not two

III

man searches for echoes of himself
in the mirror of words
never searching for an authors soul

IV

they say woman or man use both
but man is man
and woman is woman

V

we do not know much right now
other than what we feel inside
therefore no one really knows whats on the outside
and thats the tragic thing lately

VI

we like to assume that life is merely internal
and forget the vast world outside of us
like a poet once said
there was otherness in the moraine
and it could not be removed

VII

i talked to a woman
and found her untrustworthy
i talked to a man and found him the same
i sit in a room and feel the hatred
alone i sit sheltered by my thoughts

VIII

politics that transcends ourselves
is truly artistic
but speaking our brand is only propaganda
and everything is a brand
that is why ai makes better art now
no one truly cares about the artist
only their reflection into the void of words and images

IX

later i will make one remark
then two
it doesnt get listened to

X

they see me like a child
and so i never fully grow
and then when i am grown
they say how like a child i am
yet we grow with other people
and where you are isolated you cannot

XI

isolation makes callow
for we must live in contact with peers
we must move with them
but when they cant be trusted to move
we must be like a child
and meekly go where our hands are held

XII

there is a reason christ said
blessed are the meek
for fortune bestows its graces carelessly

XIII

they say show do not tell
the lesson is just a cruel
that is what t____ said
she was also very stupid

XIV

morality is true
love is real
faith is valid
for without faith
morality is false
love is hormones
and faith is null

XV

i wonder why people love cruelty
and love to see the pain of others
humor me the three stooges we know were fools on screen
but the people would poke their eyes in real life
why are humans like this

XVI

there is pleasure in anothers suffering
it goes named among the germans
who have the highest sociopath population in the world

XVII

mr magoo is funny on screen
but in real life is a tragedy
thus art is a medium not necessarily reality

XVIII

why do we want art to be true
when it reflects truth
for when it is true it reflects none
but the carelessness of our world

XIX

movements of physics and chemistry
are the sole operation of this world
and a miracle is when god intervenes

XX

i find true love is a miracle
transcending what is merely chemical
that power is what i believe in
for i have seen it many times

©2026 B. K. Neifert
All Rights Reserved

I undress, and my legs are hairy.
My vagina is unkempt.
It is a wild boar, and I am a better poet than Brandon.
I don't shave my armpits, because I am deep
And I have made all form abhorrent.
Look at Ozymandias, and let him die.
His empire is in ruins, when it never was.
I laugh at him, and with me Nero fiddles.

I

There was once a great and powerful Negus, who ruled over the entire world. He spied his kingdom, and came upon a Caucasian man, one day. So, pretending to be among the poor of the kingdom, the Negus invited the Caucasian to eat fruit, so the Caucasian did. And the Negus, feigning to be a friend, but truly hated the Caucasians, for they were inferior he thought, offered him an apple. So, the Caucasian cheerfully took the apple, being a cheerful fella, and knowing a thousand things, ate the apple from the bottom, with the entire core. The Negus curled his lips, and his brow scrunched, and he became furious. But would not show it. So, he left, and soon, decreed in his kingdom that an apple must be eaten from the sides, and no other law could do. For, his cohorts ran rampant, and rummaged the streets, and broke the houses, and set fire to the barns and wagons. They hunted the Caucasians, for theirs was the former empire. And they hunted, and then the Negus found the man whom he saw at first, and took him before his throne, with his royal scepter. And he said, "Take this apple, and if you eat it from the bottom, I shall kill you." The Caucasian shrugged, and said, "You do with power what we did, and worse." So he took the apple, and ate it from the bottom. He was put on the rack, and tortured for three weeks. And he died. But, he laughed while he died, saying "So it will be with you, with the Negus as emperor, for no law save one is his, and that is to eat an apple from the side." And the Caucasian spat.

II

There was also once a great and powerful Negus. He, however, ruled benevolently over his realm. He was good hearted, and loved peace within his borders. Yet, Prussians lay on his frontiers, and their panopolies glittered as they amassed on the borders. The Prussians would be like raping huns, and destroy the peace the Negus had secured, through his grace and tact. Thus, he sent his warriors, and they fought. And the Prussians were defeated. Yet, there was one, who was notorious for doing many crimes in the villages. And causing terror all the places he went. He amassed a fortune of gold, and was riotous, and led all the people in revolt against the kingdom. So, the Negus had him arrested, and said, "My brother, there was peace within our borders, until you made lawlessness. Why would you do such a thing?" The Hun said, "You are beneath me. I will destroy all the peace you share, and convince your people to do the same, and lead them in many revolts." Thus, the Negus sighed. "I have authority to kill, and put into chains. I rule my kingdom well. And you disturbed its peace. If you were one of my own, I would do the same to you. There is no us or them, there is only justice." Thus, the Negus hung the man upon a tree, and the vultures ate out his eyes, and he slipped through the noose, and burst into a bloody mess at the root of the cypress where he was hung.

III

There was an señora of a small town, who came upon a clerk. The clerk had shamed himself and his family name, and thus a shadow was cast upon he and his parents. The señora was mad, for she was whom he affronted. He had stolen her golden septum ring, however was not mad about that, until he wished to pay her back for the stolen ring. And thus, great calamity struck, that her señor, who had many hidalgos in his ranks, and was friends with an infantes family, was enraged that his wife had lost her septum ring to such a man of small rank. Thus, he martialed his hidalgos, and got permission from the infantes, to wage war upon the clerk and his family. Yet, the clerk had ties to a grand burgher who had the ear of the hochadels, and thus, there was a great calamity, for the clerk was the grand burgher's friend. Thus, Spain and Germany were at odds over the golden ring. And their forces martialed upon the borders, and the Teutonic orders and Hidalgos were of great might, and smote one another in the fields. Their blood poured from the joints, and their javelins pierced armor, and their maces shattered shields. Then, the Kaiser got wind of the great war, but had lost much wine for his vats. So, he sought the trouble, and it were merely over a ring of gold in a señora's snout. Thus, the Kaiser put an end to the foolish fighting. And came, made league with the Prince of Spain, to end the war. For it were a foolish thing, to war over a clerk's foolishness. The clerk was brought up on charges, and brought before the Prince, and it was asked of him, "My friend, you acting so foolishly, you nearly started a great war. Why did you do it?" The clerk sighed, "My lord, I had apologized to the señora, and her husband took offense. I merely wanted to give a small restitution for the crime." The Prince was furious, "For a man's restitution for this slut's ring, there was this great war between two kingdoms!" And thus, the Prince was wroth at the señor, for much mischief abounded. Not the señora, though. For she he simply saw the clerk paid his debt to double.

IV

There was a Wizard of the forest, who cast enchantments upon those who entered. And there came upon a golden haired Lady, who was virginal and pure. Thus, he cast his spell to trap her in the forest. This Wizard was also a great Prince. The woman did not love him, however, but she sired a son with brown eyes and raven black hair. As it would turn out, this Prince was heir to the throne, which his mother the Queen kept. There was a Burgher family in another land, which the Prince was fascinated with, which he viewed with his third eye, for their likeness in appearance. And thus, he spun foul magic. The Prince sired his son, and saw the clerk was like that of a great sage, so thus wished to replace the clerk with his son, and thus control the world with his sharp influence. His son was a fool, however, and a great mischief maker, and could not pass off as the clerk. Thus, the sheriffs of the land were greatly appalled, at how this imposter could write so beautifully, but be a total fool. They could not know why or how it was written, for he was no genius. Yet,the King now kept it a secret. But, his Queen stole away with the Little Prince, and went on a journey, for they did not love their King. And thus, the sheriffs were mad, and the Little Prince wanted to steal the life of the clerk, who at this point was a journeyman of three trades, yet lived with his sire comfortably. So, the Little Prince took baneberry, and laced the prized milk from the clerk's best dam, pulled every evening, which he drank two quarts of every evening. And his heart became weak, and he died. Thus, the Little Prince was pleased that his poison had worked, and took the clerk's life. However, the sheriffs of that country---for they were of a different domain---were not impressed by the Little Prince, who looked exactly like the clerk, save his brown eyes and slightly darker hair. They knew the clerk was gifted, but the Little Prince they knew was not, for none in either realm knew of him, though he was the power behind the Prime Minister of the kingdom which the clerk belonged to. And the Prime Minister could not understand, never knowing whom it was who spoke, the Little Prince or the clerk, for he would see one in the street and confused him for the other. And the clerk would be asked for advice, and the Little Prince, but both gave bad advice. Yet, the clerk had no experience, and the Little Prince had malicious designs. Yet, the clerk had died, and thus the Little Prince rose up, and took the Prime Minister's place, and overthrew the reigning monarchs. Thus, he allied with his father, the wizard, and the two waged war upon the greater realms. And the Little Prince showed forth his wisdom, and his craft prospered because he studied the clerk, whose writings were like an Aristotle to his Alexander the Great. And thus, darkness fell upon the whole earth for this crime. 

V

Maximus saw Christ, and followed Him. Then, the ages slowly changed, and a good age came upon all men. Maximus was happy in this age, when Christians ruled the world. And he ate, and drank, and rested. However, slowly, as he grew to about middle age, the times of the past were forgotten. Then, there arose a new emperor of Rome, for Catholicism had become forgotten. The scriptures were hidden, but highly sought after. Maximus ate, and drank, aware of it all. For he enjoyed watching the little ones in middle age, and loved to watch them play with their balls in the fields, and to lick the honeysuckle nectar, and in autumn eat the currants which grow that taste like an apple cranberry. He walked through the forests, smelling the roses bloom, which were like rose and honeysuckle, and sniffing the apple blossoms in spring. He did know it all changed. Thus, he knew all the evidence which had existed, yet one day, upon diligent search, none of it was seen. He was vexed by this, and tore his cotton robe. Finally, the Emperor, named Brutus Diviciacus Julii, took Maximus to the bench. And inquired of him. "Bow down to Apollo, and thou shalt have all thy world and all its wisdom back. Do not, thou shalt die the death of a dog." Maximus remembered his teacher well, and said, "I was among the 70 sent out in pairs, and we healed many sick, and cast out many demons. My Lord has treated me well. Better than some of my kin. I gladly die whatever torture you decree, than receive the world and its wisdom for only a short time left on this Earth. What does it compare to eternity?"

VI

Once upon a time, there was a Teutonic Knight, who ventured out into the wilderness. Along his journey, his horse stopped, in the darkest part of the deep woods. And two voices were heard, a woman and her infant crying, her voice carrying in the wind. And to the other side, ten men were crying for help. What wild beast, or torment were there, the Knight listened closer. The woman were near a giant river, and she seemed to be shivering in her voice, like she were cold, and the infant hoarse. The men, however, were fighting a mother bear, robbed of her cub. The question remained, who would he go to save? The Knight paused, and knew what was done in love, was done well. Thus, he galloped toward the river, and saw the woman hanging on a branch, with her little bundle in her hands, the river foam  billowing over it, and misting the child's sackcloth hood. The woman were poor, it was seen, but the Knight swooped down, and rescued the woman and her child. Thus, he saddled his horse, and galloped away to the place where the men were fighting the bear. And when he arrived, he saw the bear were already shouted off, yet two men lay slain by the battle.

VII

Upon the hillocks, the Negus' countrymen and the Pharaohs' and the Sultans' and the Brahmin, and the Emperors of the East had many of different races in their lands, which wished to move into the lands of the Germans. And thus, a great war erupted over this, for the Germans were belligerent toward those whose skin was not pale, and their hair was not light. Yet, among the Germans were those sympathetic to others of different forms. Thus, great war erupted. However, there were many of those kingdoms who respected the Teutonic ways, and wished to be among the Germans as kin. Yet, there were many more, who wished to bring their fetishes and backward ways. Thus, there were four ways divided. There were those of the Germans who only wished for one race of fair skin to live in Europe. There were those of the Heritages who wished to be one with the Germans. There were those of the Germans who saw those of the Heritages were good for brothers. And there were those who were of the Heritages who saw only the old ways, which did not suit German life. Thus it was, this wheel span, and made the swastika, for none could gain the upper hand, and all were at war. Yet, there came a wise man, who said, "The two middles form together to make greater numbers, thus they can repel the outer forces who will be divided into thirds instead of halves. Or, they work together, and thereby our designs are complete." Thus they did, and formed German Society, which belonged to all who wanted it. Jew, Greek, Heathen, Christian, Atheist, Polytheist, Rich or Poor, Male or Female. It did not matter, for this one nation was sensible in its laws and fair in its justice and strong in its science.

©2026 B. K. Neifert
All Rights Reserved

https://www.amazon.com/Black-Book-Communism-Crimes-Repression/dp/0674076087

1. To reach proficiency at any discipline, one must listen to both novices and masters. For a novice might have one trick, and a master might have a thousand. To know them both, you know one thousand and one tricks.
2. If you are an intelligent man, work only with your mind. If you are a man of mean intelligence, work with your hands and your mind. If you are a dull man, work only with your hands.
3. Christians, you are salt and light: Therefore, hearken to Christ's Doctrine, and uplift the man who is burdened with many sorrows, be he Greek or Jew, Atheist or Polytheist, Christian or Heathen. Cheer him, do not curse him. For you are always cursing, and it makes a man who's seen God's face ready to call Him a liar on your account.
4. Christians, there is one command to you, and not two. Be mindful, the man who says “Love God” or the man who says “Love your neighbor” are only half a Christian. The man who says “I am saved by grace” or the man who says “I am filled with a burden for the poor and downtrodden” are only half a Christian.
5. Atheists, you do well to think there is a moral that is universal. Yet, you call it empathy, but shun discipline. This is why you are unwise, for there can be no empathy, where discipline is slack.
6. Hindus, your religion is good, until it teaches you there are men whom you must spite. There is only this life, and the next. There is no reincarnation, therefore, treat your neighbor like he were only going to have this one life, and you will do well.
7. Buddhists, I applaud your ethics, and moral upbringing, but then you surmount that life is only suffering. On that notion, I am Christian, for while I know life involves suffering, there is a great joy here, too.
8. Muslims, you are good folk, and hearty people, but too simplistic.
9. There are many laws, and many religions. Yet only one truth. Yet, men subjugated to only one way, is not good. For, men being diverse is a good thing for it makes life interesting.
10. When debating with a more intelligent man, probe him for knowledge if you must. Do not fear being humiliated by him, unless he carries with him the sword. For by your humiliation, you are rewarded with a new insight.
11. When debating with a man of equal intelligence, debate sharply, and remember to listen close. Make his arguments strong, before you make your arguments. And listen to every word.
12. When debating with a fool, know he will humiliate you. His words are comprehended by everyone, and at last, he is a mockingbird for none understood your dark speech.
13. If you fail in life, do not take it out on others. Who knows if your proverbs shall endure, and be like talents stored at interest in the treasury?
14. It is better to be poor, starving and near death, than feasting, knowing your entire wealth was borne on the backs of those you took it from.
15. Every generation perpetrates great crimes against humanity. And every generation thinks to have learned or restored their debts.
16. If you are at work underneath a mean man, listen to his words, for they are life. Though your superior is a wise man, and his superior a mean man, follow your superior, though mean or wise. Do only the task that is instructed, and what you have learned and go no further. And do what you have been trained to do, and no thing else.
17. If you understand a thing here, and a thing there, bring all of it to your employment. And listen closely... roam free and look for what needs to be done. Do not stand idly, unless the work is finished.
18. If you are a man who employs labor, do not make the entire job like it were given to a machine. Men are free... let them roam, let them make work for themselves. Yet, if they are untrustworthy or slothful, leave them. They are of no good. A man who cannot be trusted to his own designs, to do good work, is not one that is employable.
19. Always move on the job. But, at time of rest, stay still.
20. Marry a wife who is like you in most every way. Yet, she will be different and will cut off your childishness. And you will cut off hers. For you are two children, who come together and become one family of adults raising their own children. For the boy or girl does not become grown, until they marry. 
21. Gladden your wife's heart, and merry her amusements. Make her happy. Do things for her soul, for she may take you on an adventure you never knew. Occupy your time with things other than mating and business. Find time for things which friends do together.
22. If your wife have many friends, and they are not your friends, then you have enemies which you cannot defend yourself against. Yet, a good wife will have few friends and not many.
23. Find three true friends in your life, and if they are mad at you, leave them for a season. And find them again where you left them, and reconcile. They never change, truly, and remain who they always were at their core. Yet, if they change, perhaps you did not know them as well as you thought?
24. Regard your animal as if it were your friend. Be it a fish, or a kine, or a dog or cat. Love them, for they were given to us for companionship.
25. Wake up, wash, drink a few cups of coffee, eat a fine grain, walk outside, and let your eyes see sunlight. You shall be awakened for your work for the day's task.
26. Work within a few miles of home. Do not travel over large distances, unless you wish to lose what you have stored there.
27. There is a man who doesn't stay at home. He ought not find a wife. There is a woman the same. She ought not find a husband. They ought remain virginal, and purify the earth of their flesh.
28. All things on earth are combat. That is how the kings have made it. And that is why many are wounded. What can salve them, beside love?
29. To give to a leech, is to draw out blood. There is no good in a leech, so to reflect a man who will drain his father's stores and do no work for him or any other.
30. There is a man who labors much, but profits little. Such a man is also a blessing on himself and others, and in due season will cause all around him to flourish, and they know not how or why, though they will torment him with many unkind words.
31. There is a man who labors little, but profits much. Such a man is a curse on all around him, but himself. He causes all around him to get poor and needy, and his wealth grows, and his fields are joined, so the poor say, “Where is our homestead?”
32. There is a King who benefits himself, and by doing so, benefits all around him. He does neither good nor evil.
33. There is a King who benefits himself, and by doing so, ruins all around him. He does great harm.
34. There is a King who does good, but must do evil for that is his lawful authority, to do evil on this Earth for the sake of making peace.
35. Better to die poor, than be a king. For the king must murder and lead captive. That is his true business.
36. The King is rich, for in the next life he shall suffer much.
37. The Diplomat is rich, but his job is to make peace---like many men of God, this authority was not wasted, for the King is the Sword, and the Diplomat is the Shield.
38. Democracy is sound---yet who is the King in a Democracy? That is why they are so peaceful.
39. Merchants who act like Kings, are men who ought be hanged.
40. Great men are not born, they are not made, they are rather those who walk close to providence.
41. A grievous sinner must be forgiven, or he will have no reason to repent. Therefore, forgive him, lest his heart be fully committed to evil. Aye! That is why we have Christ, you know? For man is less likely to do this, but with God, all things are possible, even for a bad man to become a good man.
42. I looked under the sun, and saw one thing which was pleasing: To work, and eat from the labors you enjoy. Let thy servant drink the fine wine his feet had pressed, and eat the fine grains in your field, and a portion of the meat from thy cattle, and find time to please himself with his wife and children, and you will be a happy lord, for you will have a happy servant.

©2026 B. K. Neifert
All Rights Reserved

And of course, Truth is offensive, so if you tell it, people will stop you. Very simple to understand. Why do you think Sages tend to die in poverty, or are executed?

What happens if there is not a God?
What happens if cruelty makes you truly happy?
What happens if being selfish is truly wise?
What happens if making others suffer makes you feel better about yourself, like truly better?
What happens if being on top is better than being on the bottom?
What happens if men do create morality?
What happens if love is an illusion?
What happens if giving to the poor only hurts you, and doesn't help you?
What happens if prayer doesn't get heard?
What happens if being a good person, actually makes you physically sick?
What happens if being a bad person, actually makes you healthy?
What happens if theft doesn't get punished?
What happens if you should keep every secret?
What happens if sociopaths are happy?
What happens if there is no such thing as truth?
What happens if there is nothing we can truly know?
What happens if our whole lives are completely determined by physics and chemistry?
What happens if our science is never going to be true?
What happens if law is what is written, and nothing else?
What happens if loving yourself makes you loved more by other people?
What happens if loving other people makes you hated by them?
What happens if beauty is inferior to ugliness?
What happens if pain is superior to pleasure?
What happens if there are no moral truths?
What happens if there are no ethical truths?
What happens if there is no love, beside emotion?
What happens if monogamy can't make anyone happier?
What happens if good is subjective?
What happens if evil is subjective?
What happens if there is only this world?
What happens if there is no heaven or hell to soothe a suffering heart or set the scales of justice?
What happens if there is nothing in this life but what you choose to make it?
What happens if life is about pleasure and nothing else?
What happens if marriage isn't superior?
What happens if faith is dishonest?
What happens if freedom is too dangerous?
What happens if morality is governed by offense?
What happens if treachery can make you succeed and never feel an ounce of guilt?
What happens if there is no forgiveness?
What happens if there is no God?

Though my heart fails within me,
Though the sorrows of hell afflict me,
Though my enemy's power is great;

Though their prayers aren't for my mercy,
Though their weapons are drawn against me,
And though Satan say 'tis too late;

Though my enemies number my name,
And my friends do the same,
I shall to the LORD offer praise.

A bitter root must be clipped,
And a gracious heart must be filled
By God's Hesed and by faith.

I make two prayers to God,
For His affliction is my rod
Of correction; and fate

Is not a thing, as I sing
And I have two choices to bring
Either God or to sate

Upon dainty morsels,
Or to rest on my paltry laurels
But here is what I pray:

"Establish my hand's good work
"And let me inquire in your church
"For all days, and enter through Thy Gate."

Dedicated to Robert Southey, 
Whose prosaic poetry helped inspire this piece, 
Through his by the same name.

Canto I

I

Many years, either past or future
Present or in the nick of time...
There lived a prophet and a king;
The king supped on spices: cumin, mint, celery, cinnamon,
With perfectly cooked meats: lamb, tilapia, bison, stag, beef;---
And he drank wine with the most cheerful inebriation.
His hot springs were like pools set as jewels in his house.
His chefs the finest in 100 realms.
The prophet supped on spices: ginger, salt, garlic, onion---
With perfectly cooked meats: beef, pork, chicken, salmon;
He drank sweetened teas and coffees, and good milk.
He had a bath drawn by servants, and warmed.
And he cooked all his own meals.
He was with his servant much, and they two were like kin.

II

The king, for want of fame or to protect his vassals
Wished to make war with Persia.
None knew, for perhaps both things can be true.
He drew up plans with his generals, conspired
To draw swords against Persia,
And draw up all the land of Grecia
To war with the South and the East.
The Generals spied it was profitable
And encouraged all his heart to enter the war.
The wights wealed with wisdom of the world,
Thus, they sought to do
And so they would.
So the siege engines were hacked from the sycamores
And the maples fell to build machines of war.














III

The prophet, however, cried---
Thalaba was his name---
Peace, where the little darlings were dandled
On their mother's knees
And the children rode their mules and stallions
And they played with their hoops and balls
And the venerable kings of foreign lands
Dwelt safely upon the clefts, spying the beige lakes.
The river boats and anglers threw their lines
The cattle and bear trod safely and were no danger;
The milk was good,
The tea plenteous with honey.
Man and wife sank flower petals into the pools
And children were cautioned about only trifles.

IV

A bird, however, heard all the curse.
It carried it to the king.
He rent his silk robe
And his princes were then used as spies.
They sought the king's engines
And came to Thalaba's home and spied all his things.
They saw he was wealthy yet was also poor
Compared to his neighbors.
The king demanded he stop publishing
And demanded he stop cursing.
Yet, as he welled it up inside
It burst from Thalaba's lungs
Causing true danger.
Thalaba could not stand by, but prophesied.
















V

Thus, foul sorcerers began to torment.
A prophet tells the truth, but sorcerers
Lies—confusion, illusion and deception
Are their only true weapons
And they weave mischief
Like a brass web.
And Thalaba cried for there to be peace,
And this angered the king greatly.
He sent for spies to tell the tale
And sorcerers and mages and enchanters.
Thalaba was confused, but steadfast for peace.
Great wars cause so much suffering.
The king saw it like a cycle
Yet Thalaba saw the stepping stone to Lawlessness.

IV

Thus, the king used his
Mediums to prevent any true
News from getting to Thalaba.
They made an iron curtain around 15 miles in radius
Thus no news, save that of peace
Came to Thalaba.
And thus it were, he received only false reports.
He drew his contract and had the judge seal the 
Document and then thought
This just, to afflict he who prophesied
Evil against the king.
To not share in collective history, he knew no greater
Punishment for a supposed prophet.
The king marched out to war.
















Canto II

I

Thus, with the king's mind so set
The vault became a manner of blood
To foretell of the blood and reset.
The king of southern realms were afrighted
Thus mustered 500,000,000 men strong
To pour into the Northern Lands.
March they did, across the dry rivers,
Scorched and made thirsty by quakes.
They marched in their lines, two armies,
One of three hundred million
The other of two hundred million.
The first sailed across the pacific
To enter the new world from the west and south;
The second marched through Egypt into Jordan.

II

They came from China, and Persia
Arabia, and Deep in Ethiopia,
Syria, the Heart of Africa,
South Asia, Russia
South America, Central America,
Drug Lords, Warlords, Businessmen
Princes of the East and South
From Idumea and Turkey
And Mexico, and some hailed
From unknown lands, Barbarian
Small peoples of a nation of two hundred men.
They arrayed in peasant's garb
Brought no sword or bow
But they came to steal, kill and destroy.














III

Their steeds were dolphins, bulls
Whales, gryphons, hawks, eagles,
Wargs, spiders, dragons, deer, stags
Bear, ligers, leopards
Jaguars, elephants, unicorns
Satyr's hooves, jackals, crows---
They had aligned with the conies and dogs,
The baboons and apes,
The hyenas and wild boars.---
Thus their numbers were overwhelming:
The fairies spread lies and rumors,
The Baals and Asheroths were satiated with blood,
The owls and liliths
And the scorpions and anthropoids and cephalopods, too.

IV

Thus, the king began his campaign
By drawing fire and brimstone from heaven
And it consumed many cities to ashes.
Man, woman, child, old, animal, tree were consumed
And melted away to bone and dust.
This act startled the realms below
Who, like a nest of hornets, when left
To their own, pollinated the trees and flowers
In exchange for sweet nectar of trade.
But when the paper nest was swatted
The hornets swarmed in great, lethal numbers
So it was, the king called by sorcery
Fire from the heavens, and it engulfed
The once peaceful peoples, so they too were stung with loss.
















V

Thalaba prophesied the war,
But the king in his craft caused all
News of the great war to never reach
Thalaba's town. All within a 15 mile radius,
They heard of minor disturbances
Far away, as children dawned mail and armor
To sail across entire oceans
To die and fight: not before
Countering the forces now landed
Upon the beachheads, who did terror
Upon all they could, to kill, steal, destroy,
Rape, rob, murder, and eat the flesh
Of men, whomever their hungry bodies slaughtered
That they did.

VI

But in this small town, all were at ease,
Drinking too, eating capon
Bathing, making flesh feel good in their many paramours,
Drinking milk, working like it were their all and only
Activity, day and night without rest or time
For peace. Thalaba saw nothing:
He dreamt of succubi which the kings conjured,
He cataloged the seasons and the stars to document
Peace, for his king were a fool.
He prayed, rested, repented, slept, woke
Ate hearty suppers, drove his hearty mare
Through town on leisure rides
Witnessing the vanity and pride wax greatly
On every citizen's tired faced.
















Canto III

I

Like Horace, a pagan whore remarked
That his countryman betrayed the solemnities:
Great wars and defeats were prognosticated
Yet Rome plunged further into a black peace.
For women were loose and the bonds of peace,
Matrimony's harmony,
Were disorderly among the entire realm:
Thalaba cried that for this, was war to come,
The women ground for those other than spouse
And men kept not their secret chaste.
Thus the king said he heard it all before
And those prophets were fools, too,
So he kept the three cities Thalaba
Knew, ignorant on pain of torture without death.

II

Yet, the armies came and murdered, raped, robbed
Ate their victims too---
They came in numbers the size of large nations
And stole much booty.
Their thews were gaunt, their bellies fat
Their weapons drawn from the men they killed.
Chemistry with nitre, they blew bridges,
They poisoned watersheds,
They hacked to pieces victims and sold their meat:
Belladonna, bane-berry, hemlock, star of Bethlehem, mandrake
Night shade, holly berry, they made
And liquid death tea: they poisoned all,
Entire cities fell ill and then fires were ignited
In forests: fields charred, game consumed to the last.














III

Thalaba thought there was peace
And warned of great war.
The abomination of desolation
Were those armies, yet Thalaba heard not a peep.
Yet he stirred to cry out for no
War. Yet war was already real.
Yet even worse, the children mocked
The hoary headed laughed
The mothers and fathers hid their children
In their bosom and said,
“There is no war, you were wrong, we are strong.
“We hide our children from the likes of you.”
They ate, drank, and slept at ease
Not a single true shred of news reached their ears.


IV

The taunt was so...
“Weak and feeble young man 
“If you only knew
“No war exists
“If so, we now prove
“You are rude of heart
“And loud of speech.
“Obnoxious now
“But you can read.
“That is all, you raging nut:
“You are not wise,
“You know nothing such.
“Wrong about a thousand things
”We laugh, and with us welkin rings."















V

Yet the milk became scarce
The honey less sweat
The portions waned so few.
10 pound capon became 3 pounds
The oils was costly
Yet gold fetched a high price.
They blamed all on Thalaba's prophecies
Saying “He discouraged our king.”
They began a rumor,
“In our city, lives Thalaba the Destroyer.
“He is usually wrong
“And his sootheing is the cause
“Of all our woes.
“Woe to him. Woe to him.”

Canto IV

I

Then, the prices fell, and the prices were good.
People were fed from the produce.
The idols were cheap
And so were the devices.
The milk, and honey, and fruit, and grain
Were at a price that was affordable.
The men gloated over Thalaba,
And called him a Broken Clock.
Yet, his stories welled in him
Over years, and his prophecies remained consistent.
He ate with trembling;
He drank with angst.
Seeing peace, he wrote his stories.
Those stories that welled for so many years.














II

Thalaba was ashamed he was wrong.
He beat his breast and rubbed his belly sore
With his belt. And his anger swelled
And great confusion hurt Thalaba's heart.
He was hurting in his heart
And saw every vision fail.
Brother and father saw, but the food was cheap.
Where before, they argued over the high costs.
The entire price was cheap.
They all celebrated the king
And lauded him for his prowess.
The people were comfortable
And they ate. They drank.
The people saw no curse.

III

The children ate freely and walked the street.
Their parents lauded their prize achievements
And the people loved their little games.
And the rumors they would spread about Thalaba.
They loved to gossip and talebear down the road.
And when Thalaba prayed, they called him insane.
The children strode with horse and mule
And hit the flowers with sticks;
They would gesticulate at Thalaba
And call him all manner of vile things.
Not one neighbor knew about the war,
Not one man knew the evil that stalked the night.
The king's bodyguard kept the three cities safe,
So they would never know.
















IV

They cried another taunt:
“You were wrong oh poet,
“And you know it!”
“The great powers of your verse
“Have not abated the curse.
“Nay, we eat freely,
“No, we eat cheaply.
“We sink to the slough
“And the king raises us!
“Understand, we know now
“That you are false
“For our devices and food
“Are cheaply produced.
“And our bounty we laud.”

V

Yet, the prices were low, and they ate
And consumed all. So there was no thing to buy.
The beef were gone, the milk, the wool and flax,
The watches, the automatons,
The paintings, the paper,
The windows, the baubles
The ships were not on the whale-paths,
The carriages not on the road,
The postmen not at their posts,
The pastors long exchanged
For counselors on life.
Where before they rejoiced
For their carts were full,
Now, they were destitute.
















VI

Before, they rejoiced over the easy flowing oil.
The food which were great and plump
And verdant food, and lush grains;
They rejoiced over their distractions.
They rejoiced over their games.
They rejoiced over their loves.
And felt they were not culpable in a thing.
They rejoiced: for the suffering
Elsewhere was not to come near
The three protected cities.
They knew not a thing about it.
They know like all the world
That they were fat and well fed.
Thus, they rejoiced over their victim.

Canto V

I

The shelves were bare from East to West
North to South of the circumference
Of that little self contained world.
The war was elsewhere, and the sword
Thick with fat: the soil quenched by blood.
Yet, in this little world
There were no war, like elsewhere.
There, the peoples saw their folly,
And that Thalaba were still a lie.
They could not admit, due to ignorance,
For they saw their little
World were bare of goods.
For fat capons became gaunt hens
And beef was nowhere else.














II

All that could be bought
Were. The people began
To feel deep depressing
Hunger for the first time.
Their shelters became their graves.
They decomposed on the streets,
Their flesh fused with the rugs,
For they melted away.
They said of Thalaba that he cried wolf
And therefore, was the harbinger
Of this great sorrow.
The people lamented
Their idols could not save.
In the streets they waxed cruel and vain.

III

They took up this taunt:
“Though hungry
“We know now you are wrong.
“Though thirsty,
“Our peace is ever strong.
“Do you know, now,
“Why we must have gone to war?
“For many men have fallen to your curse.
“Thalaba the Destroyer,
“You had your peace.
“Thalaba the Destroyer
“Now none can have their feast.
“Thalaba the destroyer
“You might as well be beast.”
















IV

Hunger struck all including Thalaba.
Priest, prophet: friend spurned friend
And men ate their fellows.
Skulls littered the roads,
The rain tattooed the puddles
Which the rotting flesh made burgundy.
Yet, the thirsty would drink.
And they'd die of their contamination.
The diseases of poverty spread.
The men fell in the streets.
Hungry, they tremored from lack of flesh.
The king mocked by making himself
A conquering Messiah.
He said, “Praise be to Allah.”

V

Then came the day
Thalaba was arrested.
Into shackles he was locked:
And by two hearty police,
He were led away.
His flesh were black
From fire soot, burning in the towns.
His once fat and gay form
Was folded with skin
And his belly a pouch.
He were ahungered.
He were athirst.
He were captured.
But he was not cursed.
















VI

They raised a litany against him:
His crimes were as said:
“Libel and slander
“Of the king.
“Disseminating State Secrets.
“Publishing blasphemies against his majesty.
“Slothful in business.
“A plagiarist, though we know not how.
“How does an unintelligent man
“Figure out things which mystified
“The skeptics?
“And it turned out never wrong?
“Necromancy, sorcery,
“False prophecy, and more.”

VII

The people cried that he demoralized
Them. Thus they were sated
On his chains.
They talked little in their days
But said it must be justice.
They were assured
It was all Thalaba's mischief.
The king knew otherwise.
He laughed and sumptuously feasted:
Goats fed on fine pastures
And dairy from the same.
Milk nourished on the spring grass
And local honey rich and dark:
Strawberries from the sweetest runners.
















VIII

Thalaba was never void,
So the peoples all died.
Great were their wanings.
All suffered even good and bad.
None found joy.
The sun darkened.
The stars fell.
The moon melted.
The trees were bare.
The grass dried up.
The beef were dry morsels often like foul berries.
The ocean were blood.
The rivers cracked to the bed.
The life on earth barren.

Canto VI

I

Months in prison kept
The prison guards grew more thin
And looked with envy at Thalaba.
Sheltered here, and untouchable,
He sat with a flowing spring
Of which he drank.
His shoes stayed on his feet:
He drank water in cups, for a fresh spring
Poured into his cell,
Cool and crisp: not hardened with excessive minerals.
He drank and washed, and took off his clothes
For washing.
He washed with the mint that grew
In between the cracks of the soil in the bricks.














II

The prison guards were full of black
Envy, as their eyes turned
To pitch and their bodies as shadows.
Thalaba had a crust of bread three times
A day, a portion of meat,
Milk and tea, and he ate the herbs which grew
In his cell, which Christu planted just for him.
The guards were envious of him!
For they were without food.
Soon, they were no more,
And a Ginger Haired maiden came with morsels.
They all abandoned him and forgot.
She came to become a spouse,
Bringing what she foraged all day.

III

In winter, she shared skin, vulva and warmth.
The two touched, and kept their stores
Which she wisely kept for colder months.
She, with breast upon his bare breast,
Ate warmth from each other.
He became fairer than 10,000
From sitting and waiting.
And they both were the two most fair
In all the world.
They were never married
But she a hymn burst for him.
And they slept, keeping warm with each other's
Bodies. And she conceived
And she and he loved each other, and that peace was like heaven.
















IV

However, food was low
And Thalaba caused her to eat
For the son in her womb
And herself.
She wept, as he got more weak
And was all but bone when he died.
She wept.
Their love was rich, though they spoke
Little to each other.
Their laconic relationship
Was borne on need and touch,
Not shallow conversations
About politics, philosophy, science and religion.

V

She knew it would be her fate, too,
So she prayed for wings.
She and he loved much.
Sorrowful hours were like heaven
In each other's arms.
Their warmth was stronger than hunger.
Their love more severe than death.
It was strong.
No thing could compare,
And in Thalaba's final moments
He received his deepest longing.
For he kept prayer strong,
Fasted often and clung to God like
Jacob.

©2026 B. K. Neifert
All Rights Reserved

1. An Atheist's Proof of God

Take a square, and circumscribe a Circle's Diameter
Onto one of its sides.
Then, extend the Square into a rectangle,
So the square and rectangle fit to the golden ratio.
Then, make within the rectangle, the Golden Ratio arc.
Then, make a circle from the radii of one side of the golden ratio rectangle
And from its parallel corner of the circle, so draw an arc
To the other side of the rectangle.
Build a circle, so the diameter of a smaller circle
Is tangent to where the arc had crossed the golden ratio rectangle
And so its circumference meets the Golden Ratio Arc.
The larger circle will be exactly that of the Earth
Proportioned to the smaller circle, if it were proportioned to the moon.
And then draw an angle from the parallel corner of the golden ratio rectangle,
So that the angle meets at the place where the rectangle and smaller circle are tangent.
That angle will be equal to the Great Pyramids of Giza's slope.

2. Two Musicians

Banjos play their melodies, 
Echoing in the wind;
Each a different kind
Of plucking on the strings.
The two masters met
And music they did make;---
A style none had heard
Which echoed as they played.
Once, and only once, these two masters played
And the most beautiful music made everyone there so gay.
Never again would their song be heard
And a thousand like are so...
Musicians who form their songs
And humbly ought to know:
How many men have never played,
Or how many never would...
Oh!
If humble masters rolled
As each man's response so should?

3. Providential Guidance

Amazing to me, God brings me to a thing;
I study it there, and kindly unaware
He brings it to its peace.
There it is, which days later will be core.
How Providence guides me,
And helps shape my lore.

4. The Sum of My Politics

Silly conversations,
When two men disagree
On definitions, and cannot
Understand what is real
Leads to social calamity.
The arts, when it is ugly
Reflects the soul of a people,
Or when it is beautiful the same.
The will of a people determine
The force of a society---
No sovereign moves without his people
And he cannot sway them.
If they are good, the sovereign becomes good
But if they are bad, the sovereign becomes bad.
Tradition and innovation must work in balance---
Never forsake traditions, and enjoy them bountifully.
But innovate a little--not a lot--so as not to confuse
The elders, nor bore the youth.
Religion is good for a society,
And Atheism must subject itself to Religious laws of benevolence.
Women are not the master over men;
And children are not the master over adults.
God is to be venerated, and providence rules
Even over a people and its ruler.
Do not interfere with the peasant's timing.
They know the season to harvest, and the season to plant.
They know the season to weave, and the season to gin.
They know the season to eat, and the season to fast.
They know the season to breed, and the season to skillfully handle.
Do not interfere with them, and let them nourish themselves
Upon their own fruits. And do not make them dependent.
But, rehabilitate the poor, so they can be strong, too.
Plant a fruit tree every acre, and let the husbandman dress.
Then there will be fine clothing for all,
And a portion of meat on every table.

5. What I Wanted to Be When I Grow Up

As a child, I had no plan for the future.
I had no career, or wont for work.
I watched the A-Team and Star Wars
And Ninja Turtles. I ate hot dogs.
I'd eat apple sauce and tuna fish casserole.
I'd go to kindergarten, and fret about school.
There, even, it was too hard.
I'd write my letters on chalkboards,
And sound out all the letters,
And I'd put my number blocks together
In ones, tens, hundreds and thousands...
I'd play with playdough, and learn about division;
I'd learn about multiplication on our blocks.
I'd learn about addition on them, too.
I'd learn phonemes and suffixes and prefixes.
I'd learn about subtraction from apples
And grapes, by eating them.
I'd listen to the teacher read stories.
I'd learn Tall Tales, and about our Revolutionary War.
I'd learn about our Civil War.
I'd learn about Wright Brothers, Ford, Edison and Bell
Earhart, Robinson, King, and Tubman.  
I'd learn Mammals, and Fish, and Amphibians, and Birds,
And Reptiles, and Mollusks, and Cephalopods and Crustaceans
And Insects, and Arachnids and Anthropoids. Some Dinosaurs too.
I'd have little card catalogs with all the animals
And their species, classification and phylums.
I'd play Super Mario World and Donkey Kong.
I'd gaze for hours at the hollo sheets on my encyclopedias
That had the human systems, 
Digestive, respiratory, nervous, cardiovascular, skeletal, endocrine, reproductive.
I'd run with a stick in my basement, and make elaborate
Wars with Army Men and Star Wars action figures.
That was what I was good at, so I tried to turn it into a career.
I guess, that's what I wanted to be, was a professional
At taking all of this and creating something good.

6. We Know Not What to Ask For

Walking down the clay path,
I realize, "We know not what to pray."
For we want wives, and homes and children,
And for our hearts by these things made gay.
I then realize, we know not what to ask.
For, we must ask for peace-be-still,
And to love our neighbor as our last.

Then I see the hellborn servant,
The one who says this phrase,
"I know to hell I am going,
"So go big to win Satan's praise."
Yet there is all suffering,
And there you deserve to die.

So I ask God, I ask God,
"Should I be like him make me die."
For I wish to not walk another step
In this world of empty fame.
If I am a stumbling block to others,
Let me die LORD, if I have Thy Rage.
Yet, I ask for peace, and to be made righteous still.
That is why, the Servant of Hell,
Is going, for he is selfishly revealed.
The things of this life are his only treasure,
And to steal from me he will.
He will take all I ever asked for,
Except the heavenly hills I fill
My mouth with, and the roads of golden clay.
There I wish to walk, there I will some day.

7. Have You Ever?

Have you ever eaten a fine dish?
All your familiar flavors are there,
But enhanced to a degree greater.
Have you ever listened to flat music,
That has been played after a sweet
Melody? Such is life and heaven...
Life is a bland dish, cooked well,
Served hot, but heaven is augmented
A little brighter, and the flavors a little
More subtle, and the sights a little
Bit more beautiful than we see now.
And if you have ever heard a song
A fine church melody, play,
And then listened to this world's flat
Contemporary songs,
You shall know... yes, you shall know.
Yet, some are conditioned to prefer
The morsel that is not quite as sweet.

8. A Dream

I have two sins...
Bitterness and Idolatry.
I slept sweet last night,
And then tried to escape the essene---
And I saw Hephzibah in her olive skin,
And she did not want me.
For I idolized her.
And then, the prison house rapist
Mocked me, where the employer
Wished me to meet my fate.
And because he would not hire me, I had an outburst;
For though I knew his sons and daughters,
He did not wish to hire me, for my bread,
But wished me to be the Prison's Victim.
And I told the rapist, I'd like Brittos
Slay him, yet it was bitterness,
Even with a vile oath.
And then I fought the sith,
And ended up on a Morning Talk Show...
There I saw those same people,
But they ignored me, 
And when I talked,
They said, "This is a weak gospel."
And I saw my acquaintances walk by, downcast,
And I knew not how I offended them...
Was it my fault? I did not know for I could not recall the offense.
Yet, it was my gospel,
Of faith producing works....
They shunned me, though
And had their soldiering to do...
Who they fought I do not know,
But I do know it was not themselves.
And then, after the essene tried to grab me,
And I blurted out my idolatry,
I was bit by two Komodo Dragons,
And avoided a third.
And I walked to the snow, and washed the cankerous wounds,
I could feel my leg were swollen and numb;
Where before I were in the fires of hell so I could witness it were real.
And I asked the local, "Does this kill?"
He said, "No." in his ancient wisdom;
The White Evangelical told me to go see a doctor.
Yet, I washed in the snow.
And before that, I was talking,
And they were discussing the Apostolic Fathers.
And I knew a thing, and they knew a thing,
But they cared not for my thing, only theirs;
They said to respect the Crumbs at the Table; so I listened to their gospel, 
And knew I was but a man.
But then they asked me about the weeds.
To which, I told them about the weeds...
First all they knew were the Dandelions,
So I told them about the Veronica, the Mayapples, the Daisies, 
The Violets, the Broad Leaf Plantain,
But they said I talk too much.
But while walking a little further, I saw what I didn't tell them,
Which was Wolf's Bane, which I knew never to touch.
Yet I forgave my debtor of one hundred shekels;
And I told him, "You reap what you sow."
And the realization came to me as I awoke...
"I have two sinis. Idolatry and bitterness.
"But the rest of it is this faulty world and its ills...
"Most of this is not my fault, I now understand.
"It is just a cruel world."

9. Two Haikus

The farmer's soil
Can produce, yet every year
There is risk of drought.

Nature reflects us.
What it does, we do also.
Yet, it is still good.

10. The Wild Flowers

The rich man, with a beautiful face
Poses for a perfume commercial.
He says, "You get what you deserve."
I do not see this, anywhere, being true.
I see men like him, with no good,
Swimming in gold and whores.
I see men who have made less mistakes,
Though more taboo, destitute.
I've seen men, who did no wrong,
Still lost in a see of the world's forgetfulness.

I look at the flowers, they come up over the year
In their times. In little clusters they bloom.
Just like people, the more beautiful ones appear
For a short time, so distinct, but surrounding them
Are weeds. And the weeds thrive all year long.
But, the flowers are distinct in their times.
And they spring up, and they die... until winter
When there is only the Rose Hip and the Holly Berry.
He puts his finger to his mouth, and says "Be quiet."
Yet, I know it is not true, for people are suffering.
Yes, indeed, people are suffering.
And I see the autumn come, and the late Mallow and Chicory bloom.

And the rich men are like Barberries, invasive
With a rich, red, yet bland fruit.
And they sprout in the last months of fall,
And there they grow, not where they ought to be.
Yet, understand, the perfume of the Rose, or the Trumpets
Of the Currants, or the Daisies, or the Bluebells,
Or the Hyacinths, cannot be matched.
The oak of the forest, and the musk of the cedars
Are beautiful among all others.
Yet, the rich grow in wealth, and the poor feed their decadence.
And the writer is called a "Fool".
So what if he is? Was not Wordsworth a supporter of Liberty?
And then converted to a more conservative view?
No... for you cannot have the poets.
All must do their busy work...
Destroy art, history, literature, math, science...
All so the rich can eat, and the poor can feed them.
The peoples spring up in their generations...
And this generation there are the Chicories
With their bitter roots, though vitamin rich,
And they make a Coffee, and have a delicate flower.
They close during the hottest parts of the day,
And they open during the rain and are bright in the morning.

11. The Prettiest Face

A Prettiest Face
I saw in my life, slapped a
Man for saying that
Women shouldn't have suffrage.
He took her to court and won.

My honest opinion is
That people had decorum
In the past and would forgive.
I think of a Hippy saying 
It: this must have transpired
A hundred thousand times now.
Though, I don't think this would be.
A new world with new bounds.
So nobody has love.
Does anyone know how to forgive now?

Yet now I know what
Happened, radical left met
Radical right... war.
Calls it apolitical.
Beauty is only skin deep.

12. A Better Future

The future I had seen,
Just last night while I sleep...
Was neither good nor bad.
The way a good future ought to be.
There were cars on a grid
Flying high, and would
Move along their neural highways.
AI controlled them,
As the cars moved too fast...
They would go here, and there,
And then to make time pass
They had phones with holograms.
Their worst corruption were from whores
Who I'm not sure how it was borne
But that was what they said came from the orient.

Yet, as I see the pseudoscientists say
That dreams are about the eyes...
I do not believe it is that way.
As, I believe dreams collect
All the senses you impress,
Emotions, thoughts, sights, sounds, touch, smells and taste;
And puts them together through logical chains
To help you process what is made
In your subconscious thoughts.
Like a story or a play
Your dreams will always sway
Your mind to what you think about during the day.

13. 

I saw the rabid,
Crepuscular creature. Stopped
Along magenta
Park paths, the static sun shone;
Sensual rain trickled in bows.


14. The Gems of the Forest

I walk down the park path;
The geraniums bloom
Like magenta bijoux.
A crepuscular hike,

The geraniums bloom; 
The moonlight makes them glow.
A crepuscular hike 
In the trickling rain,

The moonlight makes them glow. 
A woman's musk, will scent
In the trickling rain; 
The static smell's  from oaks.

A woman's musk, will scent; 
As rain beads from oak leaves.
The static smell's from oaks,
The raindrops genuine.

15. The Island

A large Island I never knew
How many sit there on my globe?
How many will I never know?
I spin it round and round, and pore;
And new wonders I will be shown.

16. My Love

Whoever you are, my honey,
Come and find me, and we shall together
Be satisfied by food borne from this.
You shall sell, and I shall write,
And we both shall buy.
And what is mine is yours, and what is yours is mine
For we shall make it together.
Come find me speedily,
Lest I sleep the cruel sleep of death.
Make wings, and speedily come like an eagle
And revive my youth like Eagle's Wings.


©2026 B. K. Neifert
All Rights Reserved

I

Ten thousands poems are written.
Ten thousand essays the same...
Only one or two hundred are smitten,
The rest are sour or lame.

Am I a monkey at a typewriter?
Am I a robot making rhymes?
Or am I a man with ideas
That shall stand the test of time?

Am I Paul Bunyan or John Henry
Furiously upstaged by machines?
Am I full of rotten envy
Of what I only could have been?

I chose a foolish path...
Many were wiser and sharper with the pen...
I hear my sound, it's foolish...
And I want to make an end.

If I climb Mount Everest
And then I climb K2,
And then take a submersible,
To the bottom of the Mariana, too

Where on Earth can I go?
A thousand trails I've trekked?
My voice is so annoying,
My whining makes me vexed.

I watch the world die---
I watch the work made slow...
I have made myself real wise,
And everything I now have known.

At the end, am I like Apollonius 
A perfect philosopher at the bench
Looking at the gavel, 
My judge a youthful wench?

And shall she say that I am guilty,
For talking ever so loud?
And shall she throw the gavel
And upon the discus pound?

And shall I then a lawsuit,
Which my accusers will not budge,
Go to court with my law-suit
And plead my cause to the judge?

And they who know my Jesus
Obstinately take me before the judge?
And then they say "He's no genius
"For that I hold a grudge."

And what will I do?
For the judge shall smite me sore.
I shall go, I shall go, and shall I pay?
The last cent to the bone ensure?

And sit in my captive bonds
And wait my trial to die?
Or shall I, or shall I
Like Apollonius, in rapture fly?

II

And then I see an Ace,
Top of every field.
He was smarter than the average bear
And had perfect scores to weild.

He went to college apropos,
And submitted his interesting say.
He was a scholar superior,
And all his words and math were fae.

And he could do it, better than all
A great Journeyman at sixteen.
But, then the college caused him to fall
And rejected his wishes like thieves.

They with lies, spun so well
Tormented him with the truth.
No matter how good or swell
You can't achieve unless you have proof

Of your pedigree, not your science,
For the colleges rule the roost.
My words I find, are fayest of all,
But like him I am cast down for truth.

For if they say, they can deny
And no matter how hard you try
The further you climb, like Sisyphus
The further the rock shall slide.

And thus, like him, with perfect choices
Pushes up the slope of change;
He the greatest of them all
Pushes up his success, which are chains.

There he stands like Prometheus
Only wishing to give the world fire.
The college board plucked out his eyes,
For they all were dirty liars.

He wishes to understand the lay
And to know how his world works.
A mathematician's mind you see
Wants to know of mankind's great force.

Thus, he learned the first lesson
Two wills are stronger than one.
And I say, my friend, listen close
That is why he must cleave to God and His Son.

A ton of it, It’s actually a lot of evidence.

Evidence that Demands a Verdict by the Mcdowells.

Evidence That Demands a Verdict
Evidence That Demands a Verdict: Life-Changing Truth for a Skeptical World By Josh McDowell, Sean McDowell
https://books.google.com/books?id=OhGJDQAAQBAJ&printsec=frontcover&dq=evidence+that+demands+a+verdict&hl=en&newbks=1&newbks_redir=0&sa=X&ved=2ahUKEwiH56ygjs7_AhXMtokEHY65DmYQ6AF6BAgJEAI#v=onepage&q=evidence%20that%20demands%20a%20verdict&f=false
Expedition Bible.

Expedition Bible
Expedition Bible brings you the teaching of Joel Kramer, a biblical archaeologist and former expeditioner in his younger years. Joel teaches by "taking you into the Bible," showing you Biblical sites, and giving you context, evidence, and experience to understand Scripture more profoundly. Watch, learn, and be encouraged as Joel lays out the evidence for the historicity, authenticity, and authority of the Word of God.
https://www.youtube.com/@ExpeditionBible
Where God Came Down
While residing in Jerusalem for nearly ten years, Joel Kramer earned an M.A. in archaeology from the University of the Holy Land. Studying under world-renowned archaeologist Dr. Shimon Gibson, Joel gained valuable field experience excavating in Jerusalem, Bethlehem, and Ai. Currently, Joel is an adjunct professor for Shepherds Theological Seminary in Cary, NC, while living in Amman, Jordan, with his wife and three children. In addition to speaking, teaching, and leading biblical study tours, Joel continues to research, write, and participate in various archaeological projects.
https://books.google.com/books?id=QofRzQEACAAJ&dq=when+God+Came+Down&hl=en&newbks=1&newbks_redir=0&sa=X&ved=2ahUKEwikidz1iseFAxUmHjQIHYBdCZ8Q6AF6BAgLEAI
The Case for Christ.

The Case for Christ
The Case for Christ: A Journalist's Personal Investigation of the Evidence ... By Lee Strobel
https://books.google.com/books?id=Qtij8BIhGpcC&printsec=frontcover&dq=the+case+for+Christ&hl=en&newbks=1&newbks_redir=0&sa=X&ved=2ahUKEwilyey1js7_AhUGlokEHUfYB0sQ6AF6BAgCEAI#v=onepage&q=the%20case%20for%20Christ&f=false
Cold Case Christianity.

Cold-Case Christianity
Cold-Case Christianity: A Homicide Detective Investigates the Claims of the ... By J. Warner Wallace
https://books.google.com/books?id=GtQdNxDsXTsC&printsec=frontcover&dq=cold+case+Christianity&hl=en&newbks=1&newbks_redir=0&sa=X&ved=2ahUKEwjNmIfCjs7_AhVCkYkEHdhpDhIQ6AF6BAgGEAI#v=onepage&q=cold%20case%20Christianity&f=false
Here’s another great Channel called Testify that I just stumbled upon and adore.

Testify
I explain why you can trust the New Testament and believe Jesus' resurrection. William Paley is my homeboy. John 19:35: "And he who has seen has testified, and his testimony is true; and he knows that he is telling the truth, so that you may believe."
https://www.youtube.com/@TestifyApologetics
There’s even Catholic monks that’s all they do, is find that stuff. And they’re really good at it.

The fact is, the market demands that God doesn’t exist, so that’s the information that people get. Things like Bart Ehrman or Richard Dawkins. But, the fact is Bart Ehrman is usually wrong, and Richard Dawkins is not a Religions Scholar.

So, generally, there’s a lot of evidence that shows the Bible is historically reliable. You can actually go on my blog, and see.

That’s my own scholarship on the issue. You can also check out my podcast:

Evidence for the Exodus
B. K. Neifert · Episode
https://open.spotify.com/episode/247ifjTSsA77WjSmvsXKCl
Evidence for The Book of Genesis
B. K. Neifert · Episode
https://open.spotify.com/episode/6JduyyL2WAmDqOqxbiRVbD
https://brandon.water.blog/2023/11/12/a-body-of-evidence-2/
You can listen to Through the Bible by Jay Vernon McGee. He often places a strong emphasis on the evidence for the Bible, too.

Click to view
Check out our site here!
https://www.ttb.org/
There’s lots of evidence that the scripture is true. It’s just nobody wants it.

Here’s a link to the Tablet at Ebal and that document, so it can be easily accessed.

Profile photo for B. K. Neifert
B. K. Neifert
 · 1y
Was the Bible written post-exile?
No. I asked this question, so I’ll answer it. The Bible was not written post exile. For a number of reasons. 1. The evidence we have that the Bible is contemporary of the events it describes. I’ll post a link to a comprehensive analysis of the evidence I’ve found. 2. The Bible could not have been written post exile, do to a new discovery we’ve made from the Tablet at Mount Ebal. I’ll post a link to the study. So in this study, it actually has pictures of the Tablet in question, and you can see with your naked eyes, from the study, that the Tablet actually says what it does; just compare it to the scans and then look at the imprints on the tablet. This would be dated to the Mid 13th century. Maybe earlier. Which corroborates with a lot of the other evidence for the time of the Exodus and conquering of Canaan Land. The inscription of the Tablet reads: Wicked, Wicked, Wicked, Cursed of that El Yahweh;--- Cursèd deaths await you. Cursed you will surely die You, cursed of Jehovah, Wicked, Wicked, Wicked! We also can date the Torah as being written around the 13th Century BC because of Egyptian Loan Words that were only present in the Late Bronze Age and 18th Egyptian Dynasty, which was at the exact time of the Exodus. Also, the Jews were a people who did cross into Egypt. There’s a semitic language group found in Egypt around the time of 1800BC. And we see this from the Wadi El Hol. This inscription was found on cave walls in Egypt, and dated to about 1800bc. So, the Jews are a pre-Exile people, and they were worshipping the Lord Yahweh before even Zoroastrianism.
https://biblearchaeology.org/

No. I asked this question, so I’ll answer it.
The Bible was not written post exile. For a number of reasons.
1. The evidence we have that the Bible is contemporary of the events it describes. I’ll post a link to a comprehensive analysis of the evidence I’ve found.
https://qr.ae/pyPa1i2. The Bible could not have been written post exile, do to a new discovery we’ve made from the Tablet at Mount Ebal. I’ll post a link to the study.
https://heritagesciencejournal.springeropen.com/articles/10.1186/s40494-023-00920-9

So in this study, it actually has pictures of the Tablet in question, and you can see with your naked eyes, from the study, that the Tablet actually says what it does; just compare it to the scans and then look at the imprints on the tablet. This would be dated to the Mid 13th century. Maybe earlier. Which corroborates with a lot of the other evidence for the time of the Exodus and conquering of Canaan Land.
The inscription of the Tablet reads:
Wicked, Wicked, Wicked,
Cursed of that El Yahweh;---
Cursèd deaths await you.
Cursed you will surely die
You, cursed of Jehovah,
Wicked, Wicked, Wicked!
We also can date the Torah as being written around the 13th Century BC because of Egyptian Loan Words that were only present in the Late Bronze Age and 18th Egyptian Dynasty, which was at the exact time of the Exodus.
Also, the Jews were a people who did cross into Egypt. There’s a semitic language group found in Egypt around the time of 1800BC. And we see this from the Wadi El Hol.

This inscription was found on cave walls in Egypt, and dated to about 1800bc.
So, the Jews are a pre-Exile people, and they were worshipping the Lord Yahweh before even Zoroastrianism.

https://www.google.com/search?q=dinosaurs+on+ancient+pottery&sca_esv=54fcc75b4f72cd60&sxsrf=AHTn8zoNVhGaUegww8ruFo75jyPNGBIIig%3A1739490590121&ei=HoWuZ9KJB-Ku5NoPvOPNgAQ&oq=dinosaurs+on+ancie&gs_lp=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&sclient=gws-wiz-serp

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Mid-24th_century_BCE_climate_anomaly

https://www.google.com/search?q=are%20there%20fossils%20on%20mount%20everest&sca_esv=54fcc75b4f72cd60&sxsrf=AHTn8zrk7-EeeAL8im_2mzvL2l80rKIW_g%3A1739491205052&ei=hYeuZ4HkAvai5NoP9eizqAE&oq=are%20there%20fossils%20on%20mou&gs_lp=Egxnd3Mtd2l6LXNlcnAiGGFyZSB0aGVyZSBmb3NzaWxzIG9uIG1vdSoCCAAyBRAAGIAEMgYQABgWGB4yBhAAGBYYHjIGEAAYFhgeMgsQABiABBiGAxiKBUjzK1CZA1iWGHABeAGQAQCYAY0BoAGUDKoBBDE2LjK4AQHIAQD4AQGYAhOgAvQMwgIKEAAYsAMY1gQYR8ICChAjGIAEGCcYigXCAgoQABiABBgUGIcCwgILEAAYgAQYkQIYigWYAwCIBgGQBgeSBwQxNS40oAedgAE&sclient=gws-wiz-serp

https://www.biblegateway.com/quicksearch/?quicksearch=peleg&version=KJV

https://www.biblegateway.com/passage/?search=Job%2040%3A17&version=KJV

Some of the evidence for the book of Genesis.


https://isac.uchicago.edu/sites/default/files/uploads/shared/docs/mad2.pdf


https://www.academia.edu/22455640/Lipit_Ishtar_Codex_Text_Summerian_English_orginal_transcription


https://www.jstor.org/stable/275162
Above description, of E. B. Renaud's discovery, as elaborated by Robert F. Heizer and Richard K. Beardsley. 


https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VS-sKQwB-fc


Renaud, E. B. 1929: Prehistoric Female Figurines from America and Old World. Scientific Monthly, 28, pp. 509-12


https://web.archive.org/web/20070212122549/http://www.knowledge.co.uk/sis/abstract/courty.htm


https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Mid-24th_century_BCE_climate_anomaly


https://www.academia.edu/25453934/Why_we_shouldn_t_ignore_the_mid_24th_century_BC_when_discussing_the_2200_200_BC_climate_anomaly


https://iranicaonline.org/articles/elam-i


https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Naqada_culture


https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Gerzeh_culture


https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=oDu2rUoT2NM


https://www.metmuseum.org/toah/ht/02/sa.html


https://jashow.org/articles/the-evolution-of-life-probability-considerations-and-common-sense-part-3/#cite_note-12


https://www.jmtour.com/personal-topics/evolution-creation/

Evidence for the Exodus.


https://penelope.uchicago.edu/josephus/apion-1.html


Amenophis is another name for Amenhotep III.


https://bibleinterp.arizona.edu/sites/bibleinterp.arizona.edu/files/docs/Noonan.pdf


https://jbqnew.jewishbible.org/assets/Uploads/454/jbq_454_FriedmanAmenhotepzz.pdf


https://www.galaxie.com/article/bspade07-2-02


https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=kqIz9vjjtDs


Also, there are chariots, animal and human carcasses found off the Coast of Newiebu Beach, which have been excavated by three separate research teams, dated to the 18th Egyptian Dynasty.


Translation of the Peace Treaty of Kadesh


https://corum.ktb.gov.tr/EN-61494/kadesh-war-and-peace-treaty.html


For those wondering why this is a broken link, the former was a legitimate website, where they had photos of chariot wheels and other things at Ra's Gharib. They are hiding the truth from you. You've been warned.


And now Christians are lying about it, too. We're in the end times, folk. Just buckle up. And he who loses his life shall gain it, and he who gains his life shall lose it.




Hebrew Writing on Egyptian Artefacts, found in Sinai Peninsula


https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Serabit_el-Khadim_proto-Sinaitic_inscriptions


 Graffiti in an inscription on Sinai 357 Stone that may indicate it's from Moses. Possible Evidence of Slavery, too, as it came from a Turquoise mine.
https://www.patternsofevidence.com/2025/06/13/proto-sinaitic-inscriptions-at-the-sinai-mines/
https://sites.utexas.edu/scripts/files/2020/10/2016-AWW-Sinai-357.pdf

Some of the evidence for the Bible's Authenticity.
Before it goes missing, here is a link to the research which went into the Lead Tablet at Ebal. You can see, plainly, the letters on the tablet, and how scientists can't say it's like a "Rorschach"; you can see with the naked eye it's pretty obvious.


https://heritagesciencejournal.springeropen.com/articles/10.1186/s40494-023-00920-9


https://biblequery.org/Bible/BibleCanon/EarlyChristianNTGridReferences.html


https://www.catholic.com/tract/the-divinity-of-christ

https://brandon.water.blog/2026/04/26/tel-hamam-trinitite/

All my life, my dad had a hexagonal fish tank, that has housed dozens of aquariums. Periodically, it sits in storage, and then gets set back up. We've had African cichlids, angels, swordtails, Jackdempsies, Oscars, tetras, rams, tricolar and rainbow sharks, corydora and pictus catfish, but every tank always had a Pleco. And this tank was no different. But, this Pleco, was different than all the others. We named him Special, and the first weeks of having him, he liked to feed in the filter. Well, seeing that when he got a lot bigger, he might knock the filter off the tank, I flicked him in the back, to scare him. And scare him I did--had I known--the fish was traumatized, I thought, for life. He wouldn't come out from underneath his log; he would skitz out every time someone came near the tank. And for a long time he was like this.

Well, Special was such a frightened fish, that sometimes at night, he would panic, and rush so hard that it would cause a wake, that spilled water out of the tank. We didn't know what to do with him. For a few weeks, we thought to get rid of him, because the water could drip into the light socket, and start a fire, but nobody wanted to take him back. So, we were stuck with him. And good thing, too, because he is an interesting fish.

Well, today, Dad was doing his monthly cleaning of the tank, and the water and filter change, and I noticed something odd. Special's fin was up, as Dad was siphoning out the water. And not only that, Special was playing a game, where he'd move into the area that Dad was about to filter, and with his fin up--almost like he had a sense of humor--he lay there, and laugh. He wasn't afraid at all. It's still Special, he does the same bizarre top feeding that no other Plecostomus did. He still hides underneath his log all day. But he's completely different. And I suddenly realized... his trauma was soothed. What hope have we, now, that our early childhood traumas can be soothed by a gentle hand, and years worth of building trust? 

Such hope I have, seeing Special the Pleco today, not afraid of my dad's hand, and even jesting with him in a sort of bottom feeder way. And I realized, our traumas can be soothed too, by a gentle hand, and a slow build up of trust. We can be just like him, and healed through kindness.

So therefore, be kind. As Paul said in his epistles, there is never a law against it. So you will heal others, too.

©2026 B. K. Neifert
All Rights Reserved

Neo-Formalism: An art movement that deals with structure, form and logic, seeking interpretation through authorial intent, biography, and history as a context, but also accepting classical formalism and postmodern interpretations as a means to find true meaning and wisdom in a text. Particularly, as a rebellion against the stale and perfunctory amorality and clutter of modern art movements, using Form, Aesthetics and Meaning as a rebellion.

The Questions I Ask

Why don't people see what's right from wrong? 
Why do people hurt one another? 
Why do people not believe in Jesus? 
Why are people so evil? 
Why are questions deemed more noble than the answer? 
Why is everyone a skeptic of what's plainly true? 
Why does everyone need to be taught by one another? 
Why does everyone have to reinvent a system of morals? 
Why do the most intelligent men find answers? 
Why do governments oppress people? 
Why is freedom of speech not a given in every country on Earth? 
Why is the Human Rights Charter ignored? 
Why is the Constitution ignored? 
Why did men in the seventeen hundreds know our rights were unalienable, when now that's even questioned? 
Why doesn't everyone say, "Give me liberty, or give me death?" 
Why is everyone a coward? 
Why is everyone morally bankrupt? 
If there were a righteous man within a hundred miles, let me find him. 
If there were a wise woman within a thousand miles, let me find her. 
The rights of the people are infringed, and I'd like to know why. 
Why are sales more important than content? 
Why is poetry considered "Untrue"? 
Why do people believe that words have no meaning? 
If this sentence were understood, doesn't that insinuate everything we question about meaning is a lie? 
Why do strings of meaning tap into the Logos of the universe: Why is Lucretius discovering Newtonian Physics, and Milton hypothesizing the Atomic Bomb? 
Why do poets prophesy? 
Why is Love the muse of the great ones? 
I can answer this, but it still has even greater mysteries. 
Why is math more precious than language arts these days? 
If people read more poetry, wouldn't they have less time for idle minds? 
Why do Literary Critics snob at the greatest letters? 
Why does everyone have a different opinion, and why are they often wrong? 
Why can't people relate to the real world? 
Why is beauty not patronized in the arts? 
Why is truth so self evident, yet everyone pretends it not to be so? 
Why are we born knowing the way, and how do we stray from that path so quickly? 
Why are Tao and Logos so similar? 
Why are the sages always affirming what the Bible says? 
If the Roman Church burned all the books, why were they so careful to preserve them? 
If the Library of Alexandria wasn't burned, would we have any more noteworthy classics still being read today? Likely, I deem it not. 
Why do the stars tell the story of Jesus? 
Why is there so much proof that Jesus is the Christ, yet everyone pretends like it isn't there? 
More importantly, do people know the proof that Jesus is the Christ, and maybe they aren't pretending? 
Will God damn someone for ignorance? 
This I don't know. 
Why is racism a worst crime than theft these days? 
If Racism were a three, cussing would be a two, and homosexuality would be a ten; yet, we have it all backward. 
Why is adultery considered noble, when it obviously hurts so many people? 
Why is Homosexuality considered noble, when no society can function justly which accepts it? 
Those and many like it are the questions I ask. 
Questions for poets. 

Evidence

When I look into a baby’s eye,
When I see coefficients can be used to find the area of any quadrilateral,
When I look into the moon against a blue sky,
When I see Pi is a circle’s circumference if the diameter is one,
When I see lines, arranged, follow certain rules when taking shapes,
When I see a sentence can always be understood, regardless of syntax,
When I see moral philosophers discovering the very principles Christ taught,
When I see ancient myths of resurrections,
When I see miracles described by Plutarch,
When I see the ramifications of bad philosophies on the world,
When I see the effects bad behaviors have on societies,
When I see Christ prophesied in the Old Testament,
When I see genuine human kindness, oh how rare it’s become!,
When I see the stars and Niagara falls with the feelings they arouse,
When I see genuine romantic love that will persist,
When I remember peace,
When I watch a movie, and the good men kill evil ones,
When I see people who want to love themselves are the most selfish,
When I see falsehoods spring up into popular ideology, and they warp society into melancholia,
When I see nobody is happy, but I remember a time when they were,
When I felt the love of my family, my grandmother, my grandfather, my aunts and uncles,
When I see morals are certain because behaviors have consequences,
When I see selfishness hurts people, and twists all of society into a deep sadness,
When I see lustful people are vexed all the time, and filled with anxiety and bitterness,
When I see prideful people are loved for a short time, but it’s only because everyone has too much pride,
When I see science calls evil things good and good things evil---I say to myself, "That can’t be right",
When I see rainbows, saw cicadas in 1996, see the diamond of life within an Animal’s mien,
When I remember being a baby, and not being an Atheist, but rather I talked directly to God,
When I see beauty is symmetrical and beauty is health,
When I see the colors of wildflowers and the bees pollenating them; 
What caused the bee to fly and need plant nectar?,
What caused the beginning of the world?,
What reason do we grow colder the further we drift from Christ?,
What reason do the men claim there is no God, when their very breath is the evidence?,
What reason do we believe our consciences cannot perceive the real world?,
What reason do we pervert our nature to cause ourselves suffering, but then lie to and say we do not suffer?,
What reason do we say "Morals are universal," when the only moral men agree upon is "Thou Shalt not Kill?,
How long will it be when even that moral is no more?,
How many times must we witness a miracle, before we can stop rationalizing to ourselves that there is no God?,
How many beloved Christians have to die for the faith?,
Why did St. Paul and the other Apostles die for Jesus?,
Why is it said that Christ never existed, when His birth and death records are so stored in the Vatican?,
Why does Christ’s death record say "He who claimed to be the Son of God," if not for Roman Conspiracy?,
Why did Rome spread a rumor and say the Apostles overwhelmed Centurions?
Why need this lie if He did not exist? ,
Why need this lie if He did not raise from the dead?,
Why are so many in self deceit and unhappy, when they can loose themselves from the bonds of Sin?,
Why are there righteous men who suffer, if not because Christ had said it?,
Why are there evil men who prosper, if not because Christ had said it?,
Why do we all know right from wrong, until we start claiming that neither can be truly understood?,
Why do we claim there is nothing certain, when there are many certain things?,
Why do we claim reason is subjective, if not only because we ourselves cannot understand?,
If we cannot understand something as simple as the meaning of a sentence, then how can we claim there is no God?,
That is the evidence I see, and there is much more.

The Mercy Dog

How strange is the war
Which trepanned the heads of men, women, children.
The mercy dog wanders the battlefield of the Somme;
There he lays dying in no man's land.

It is a strange thing, to contemplate.
The dog, the brown of a German's hair,
A hound shaped body, or a mastiff's,
And its red cross upon its shoulder.
It wanders, sniffs out blood
For men---this is the strange thing
See how strange it is
That a man lays dying from the wound
He took from another man---
Why do these men kill?




For Kings, Queens, Democracies,
Autocracies, Panopolies arrayed in rows
Firing mustard gas, its licking smoke
Maddening Prufrock, who probably should have died.

Yet, this man lies dying on the battlefield,
An Irishman, taking a wound in the head.
The mercy dog comes to him,
Lays down, as a bloody hand scratches behind its ear.
Soon, the fingers draw lifeless white,
And they stiffen.
The dog moves to the next body.

How strange it is, that men do this thing.
It is an alien thing that armies move across frontiers 
And the obdurate faces of men having raped, murdered, stolen, killed,
They stand in their glimmering rows.
Afterward, their friends are lying dead upon battlements
And the Mercy Dogs, the Chestnut Mastiffs,
Wander to the wounded, wagging its tail
And what a wonder it is, to lie dying on the battlefield
To see life will leave you listless, to where will you go?
Heaven? Hell? You have fought in war;
The mercurial ichor drips from 
The heathen gods you have slain.

The dog lays beside you, or it takes your cloth
To retrieve it to the medics, and lead them to your wounded corpse.
It is strange, know how strange it is,
That the man lies there, having been hurt by his fellow man;
He dreams of his Beautiful Redhead
The one he never had
The one he never made love to
The one... it was made his God.
Will he have her in the afterlife?

The dog licks the wounds of the dying man,
Its antiseptic tongue licking away the soreness by its breath
And where does the soul of those slain go
On the battlefield?
Young virgins, only twenty years old
Who have shed blood before the virginal flower?

"I do not want any kingdoms
"Or strange worlds vast...
"Simply, my only desire
"Was to have her naked body in my arms,
"And yet, I die never having shared in her warmth;
"I know not amatory's sting,
"And I die."

Neifert, B. K. “The Mercy Dog.” 2022.

©2022 B. K. Neifert
All Rights Reserved

The frost makes firm the icy lake,
The samara twigs do break off;
The deer and rabbit prints of late
In the snow are made by paws.
The blackbirds sing their songs
And the bear do sleep at ease.
Love is burrowed in the fields
Where some creatures there do sleep.
The insects are all in the ground
And in peace, the trees art bare, surround.

No great thing disturbs me now
As winter is in her hoary home.
The furnace burns, and makes a fire
Keep it stoked at perfect coals.
Great harrowing war echoes there
And great sorrows the people have;
They are actors in great halls
And I feel that I am mad.
For I cannot but see them all.

Their faces are so stiff;
Pleasures are also dried.
I walk along the silvery path
And say, "LORD make me ever wise."
I cry to Him for pleasures true
As the lake whoops so divine.
The foolish of this world do skate
Upon thin ice to see.
That they are fools, but I, but I,
Am the fool of fools indeed.

For Trumpets blast in silence,
And the greatest are made small.
Petulant sinners are so dense
And the leaves do blossom wrong.
In the dead of winter, I at a green leaf pause.
"Why did they not listen? And why were they all false?"
Yet, the rabbit tracks and deer like hooves
Make a satyr print, I find.
The brother deer do lick the ice
And the squirrels there do pine.

And as I walk through this brave new world
I say, "It is not mine and never were."
For the great man wants to steal the prize
And the doctor wants there to be no cure.
Men say "Fascist" in the night,
But both sides are so obscure.
I wish this song were just 'bout winter
But, like Orwell I must be weird.
So, the whooping lake, no preternatural song;
I know 'tis not ghosts and choks.

©2026 B. K. Neifert
All Rights Reserved

"life is merely
"to ovum and sperm
"and where those two meet
"and how often and how well
"and what dies there[,]" says Renee Nicole Good.

Life is a checkpoint
At an ICE barricade;
Unlawful police
Stopping poet laureates from publishing.

If she read her Bible
Instead of put it in trash bags
To donate...

No, that is my job.
To show the rightwing their error.
I believe in the Bible
And I believe in Biology.
And I believe it was wrong.

To recount the pain of my foolish youth,
My foolish life, I shall give a good proof,
Of what not to be at first dawn of light;
What foolish beginnings bring forth great plight.

My first memory was when very young
Drinking a thimble of milk from a thumb,
Sitting in my liar's chair, a child
With great joy, yet I were never mild.

At a young age I sat with my Pop pop,
So serene, looking at the birds, their lot
So free, I would become just like them soon;
We looked at the birds, and could see they flew.

Then I would learn how to count and there spell
I would learn about change, money so fell
That I loved to count and hear my mom read
I loved it so much, to see great stories.

Thus, my mind was born a poet at last
A writer, and nothing more would pass;
For I had one thing I were ever good,
Was be a writer, that is what I should.

But alas, I scorned at all of the meek;
I, pleased by cruelty, was but very weak.
I thought I were strong, but was truly not.
I should have been mild; instead I fought.

And to say at school, I was such a dork;
To do nothing, not even a bit of work.
I sat and played, and gorged on all the arts;
I twiddled my thumbs; none knew I was smart.

Pleasure was my only way, hedonist
I was, and was also gay. The truest
Thing, I felt that wrong amatory young;
A wicked thing, born of a wicked son.

Then, had committed miserable offense,
And ten years later, there was no defense.
I had confessed my every heart felt sin.
Then sinner to saint, I would turn to win.

For I had harmed four goodly hearts it's true;
Once at fourteen and then once as a youth.
And pine over my offense, many years,
I transformed from criminal to saint. Hear!

My journey began when I fell in love;
She were not real, but Beatrice above.
And in that moment my foul heart had gained
A conscience, and a truly better name.

For once wonton and filled with awesome sin,
My heart touched love, and said "Never again."
But, then, in love, I touched another mate;
A few, for I had not been yet made great.

Then, a young man, I lived as a child
And, an adult, still invalid mild.
But, I learned the great, everlasting truths;
And to all good things I put to hard proof.

For God had turned my gravely foolish mind
Into a wiser man, and gave me time.
Thus, for God, and Math and Good I had proved;
All things point to Christ, it's forever true.

For last, I say, a great sinner I am;
What hope have I without the Son of Man?
For with time, and grace, set my mind to prove
That my LORD God Most High was ever true.

©2025 B. K. Neifert
All Rights Reserved

Fruitful Years: 

Of Theodore Marmaduke
The Odes of Ferguson
A Tale of Seven Kings
The Myth of Subang
A Meditation on Keat's Fall of Hyperion 
Transubstantiation
The Muse of the Arabica
The American God
The Children's Crusade
Prince Absalom
O Pilidod Grass, Spread 'pon the Breadth of the Mountain Valleys
Erin O'Conner
The Flying Dutchman and the St. Brier
The Love of Ellavine
The Ballad of Maddok
A Body of Evidence
What I've Seen of Love
Four Musings on Evolution and the Bible
Autobiographical Pieces
Jack Rogers

Storyhouse:

The Odes of St. Clause
Heaven's Imaginings
The City of God
The Jude Play
The Psalter of the Broom
Tall Tales

The Wisdom of B. K. Neifert:

Collected Maxims
Hyper Modernity
Meditations on Logos
The Little Book of What I Believe
My Politics
Laws of Wisdom---an Essay
A Complete Analysis of Paradise Lost
Visual Demonstrations of Basic Math Concepts

My Collected Writing Collections:

Utopia: A World Without Us
The American Civil War 
The Elf in Manhattan 
The Most Bitter Thought
The Jude Responses
The Tragedy of Joan of Arc
The Ascent of Death
The Jet Car
Man and Wo
Artemis XX 
The Third Reich
Ayin and Athrin
Cyrus Versus Caesar Battle Royal
The 90s
My Best Short Stories
Haikus
Songs
Nature's Portraits

Bread of Harvest:

The Master Key: The Orb of Fortuna and Wine of Kairos
The Prose Mythos
Anthem Louise Alcott

Flirtations with A'te:

Why I'm a Christian
Prose Poems
Animal Fables
Nature's Symbols (A Year's Worth of Nature Poetry)
A Collection of Some of My Best Poems (2017 - 2025)
Some Writings From When I Was Still in High School (2004 - 2007)

Young Shadows:

The Odes of Brittos

Fairyland:

Prester John
Hymn of the Dark Crusade


Purchase a Copy of My Books Here 

https://www.amazon.com/author/broomcrownnewpeace

1.

i am power
i am strong
but i am frail in heart

2.

i write like a madman
and get all i want done
but none

3. 

a trick a track
i have tracks up my sleeves
not of heroin needles
but needs

4.

do you want to know me
you can't
because i am an enigma to myself

5.

run through the looking glass
i found alice at the bottom of the hole
and then i drank some rum

6.

i literally can write all of this in ten minutes
with just stream of conscious thought
scary ain't it
this is the effort of a grandmaster
or is it the effort of a poser

7.

am i a poser
or am i only realized
when i write platitudes

8.

instagram poetry sucks
i was told
it took me too short to write
give me meter
rhyme
and not just fortune
i stuck to the high ground

9.

it stinks what's been done to the art
but it all dies by offense

10.

i feel the bones of my depression deep
like a knife cutting my skin
and i feel its razor over my blood
dripping down my side
i say i will not commit suicide
for this is only mental anguish
and not blood

11.

the sad thing about instagram poetry
is the most challenging part of writing it
is undoing the punctuation

12.

i am a powerful warrior
but i lost too much time

13.

i spent twenty years to write this poem
only so another could call me a joke

14.

i truly love to write
don't you know
and i am as good as any
but they stalked me like a tiger
and took away my meal

15.

i thought to myself
i am not the greatest
or the best
but then i saw what was being written
and i said i cannot compete

16.

the princess was there
and i wooed her
but she moved to another table
and i was sad

17.

the princess always saves her self
but when will the princess save her boy

18.

we are all lonely in this world
and whos to blame but men who think
procreation is a sin

19.

if i had a dime for every hour spent in misery
i wouldn't be rich
for i know the misery of those beneath me

for an american i am miserable
which isn't much

20.

i cannot write a stale platitude
though i try

and that is why i cannot be famous
i know too much about nuance

21.

full belly full life
do i write like her
and betray myself so it continues
or do i make my own spin

nobody likes it for gratitude is in famine

22.

take the most lucid thought
and dull it

23.

i am blue and wear my glasses
with the tint of green i saw them in oz
green is life blue is sadness
i know not which one to wear

24.

oh please let me write my odes
which let me express the full measure of my thoughts
so i do not get relegated to this

25.

i could literally write fifty of these
in less than an hour
as time to write is only worth every stroke
yet the lioness stole the prey
and mercy stands by waiting for me