You called Papias
A fool, and got history
Wrong. I'd take more texts
By good Baruch, and less 
Eusebius. Papias! 

The world treasures
You, and discards Papias.
Christianity 
Is now sterile, for no
Knowledge of the apostles.

I remember it
Yet, wrote it differently.
And history says
It the same as how I wrote.
To recall all, take good notes.

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.

On my Elementary School Playground,
I baited Richie and Seth to go to war.
I spread rumors of them, and was like a spy.
I tweaked and prodded, and then it erupted
Into a fabulous display of violence.
Both sides' children ran in full force, 
And tackled, and wrestled, and it was not fun.
And then I tried it again.
And all the children dogpiled me.

Be wary, America.

A basic, lightweight laptop, with 100 Gigabytes hard drive space, no internet connection, a USB drive that only exports documents, and 100mb ram, and 512MHz processor. Also very low graphics video card and no sound card. And built into the hardware is a Microsoft Office Equivalent, and licenses to an entire district's libraries, and all the district's textbooks. Also built into the hardware, are five encyclopedias, like Encarta, Britannica, etc. and five dictionaries, accessible from the Office Software in right click. And also a PDF reader and Printer, that reads the school's books, with the Encyclopedias and Dictionaries linked to the right click for highlighted words. Also, built into the hardware are programs like Starry Night Pro, Project Gutenberg, and MyMathLabs, and none of the materials are locked for the students. And also a library of basic animated and subtitled lectures, on things like how to simplify square roots, or identify direct and indirect objects. And the most advanced graphing calculators. They have access to all the licenses, as that's their privilege for going to school. So, a student could learn Calculus and practice it, on their own time, or do geometric calculations, or read Shakespeare, or read other class's textbooks. And they would only need one device for doing so.

The reason for this, is it wouldn't be susceptible to malware, and even if the students jailbroke it, there'd be no real reason to. It couldn't do a whole lot, in the way of running programs. It'd basically be a learning instrument, that couldn't be misused during class. And the computers couldn't download anything, which is a huge feature of it. It'd come preloaded with that year's materials, and the districts would buy a Learning Machine every year, and distribute them to the kids. Maybe the students would hand in their old one, and recycle it for a new one. And if they couldn't recycle it, the district would pay a fee. And if they graduated, they received it as a gift from the district.

This would limit distractions during class, and allow more room for class time, and less time for play. And it'd be so boring, there'd be no reason for anyone to steal it.

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.

1. A Redacted Quora Answer On a Poem for How I Feel Today

I read him... and I know now.
I am only as good.
Time and chance take the world by storm...
The prize is to the politicker,
The master is the one whom is bestowed graces.

As I realize, a certain politician
Was the only one my dad feared to criticize
As his voice cracks and he tries to sound tough
But I know it is dangerous.
Never were Americans afraid of a president like he were a king.

And eight years ago, the plague had not come,
And I say, "Listen to thy poets,"
But no one does,
As I made popuri out of yarrow
And diligently made sure it wasn't tansy.

The wall of computers now are our hell
And do our deepest thoughts.
The school is for teaching you how to prosper
Not to teach you eternal truths.

And I say, "When shall I be enraptured?
"This is not my America, where the small town must poke
"Rifles out their window, to shoot the mad men from the city
"Who wish to kill the farmer."
And the Country Boys sing of the stars falling
And the Black Boys sing of their father the thief.

I am told it was always so...
Yet Papa was a rolling stone
And there was poetry in our people at a time long ago.
Now the white nigger flashes his wads of cash and glocks
And the country star inartfully sings his war propaganda.

I say... it has not always been so.
For today, more than any other time,
There is no poetry.

2. Psychobabble

Therapy is the ultimate Machiavellian manual.
Distance yourself,
Love is toxic,
Be selfish and love yourself,
Set a thousand boundaries so you never can get too close.
Divorce.

3. ICE Came

ICE came for the Navajo because he was red.
ICE came for the Pennsylvanian because he spoke in a Dutch accent.
ICE then came for you.

4. Knowledge

Know?
Perceive.
Understand.
Look and listen.
Check what is real.
Read, write, visualize; mull.

5. The Truth

As I listen to
A pure hearted sermon, dad
Watches staged murder.
High and religious, the blonde
Victim kills her rapist. Black

As scum is his sermon. Wise
And perfect is mine. Fill your
Head with poetry, science 
And math. So you will find peace.
Give place to no evil thought.

6. The Squirrel Song

Driving down the highways
The squirrels chance the wheels;
Like a sinner saying, "My way,"
They stop the car and squeal.
But remember, my son,
One day the cars will run
And the tire will lay you
Spreadeagle on your back.

7. A Stanza for a Country Song

So you write a couple chapters,
Say you write them well.
You send them to the publisher
And wait there for the mail.
You keep them on the internet
And nobody says they're good.
You know that can make a man crazy
Crazy as a loon.

8. H. L. Mencken

The gods die,
Yet as I read your quote
A bird nested upon my windowpane.
Saying to me, "Look, there is good,
"And H. L. Mencken cannot understand it."
I'm sorry... God is real to me
Because of the pleasure and comfort of the Joy and Peace He brings.
And that is why God never dies,
But in 6,000 years of human history,
Keep having revival after revival,
And about dead, people see the mischief and chaos,
And believe once again in El Jehovah-Jireh Jesus Christ.

It was said before, and said again--
Man makes war, man sees his own evil,
But 50,000 virgin's blood, or 25,000,
The Sword of Christianity liberates them.

Also, I forgave a sinner,
And winked at a homely woman.

9. Victor Davis Hanson

Evil is ancient-- We both said it, never knowing one another.
Yet, what I was thinking about were the Romans and Aztecs,
And making them analogous to our current issues.
How we tend to, as Americans, remember our golden age
When the worst among us were better than today's saints...
For love abounded in those days, and I remember it well...
We tend to think it were the oldest--and it is actually--
But then I remembered Ransom's fight with Winston
And Perelandra's Eve saying the Devil's words were old.
Yet, I remember that Good is also ancient, and so I said
"Just like good." 

For our homosexuals are ancient: and so is the rampant swindling...
It has existed in India forever, and Juggernaut would trample
The suicidal worshipper. It's just the better part was my first experience,
And innocence my first thoughts, like any true child.
So, we must remind ourselves, evil existed before us.

10. Global Warming

February's Fay came on January 17th,
2026, this year. I saw a leaf bud already
On a neighbor's sickly tree. The temperature
Is 39 degrees, with a few days below 30. 
Orion is where he should be.
And so is Goliath. I am wondering...
Why did our elites suddenly discredit it?
I saw those leaves on the sickly tree
Sprout in November. Very strange winter
We're having. Very strange weather.
Also, the Samara twigs are still hanging
On the trees, and some of the leaves
Haven't fallen yet on many of them.

11. Saw an Indian Snow

Saw an Indian Snow, the pink clouds
Lighting the snow like it were the pink star.
The bright light warm, and peaceful,
As the sunset falls in the Western horizon,
A little southern is the sun, since it's winter.
Then, it shifts from warm pink, to mauve;
And the snow itself shifts too, taking upon itself
The color of the sky.

12. Gestalt

I think I am in the withdrawal phase...
Having acted all I could,
And never being satisfied.

Yet, perhaps it is that I am satisfied;
As Boethius was with Philosophy?

Perhaps that is why I withdraw.
I learned... fighting the war on the outside,
Is not as important as winning the war on the inside?

Is that not Philosophy's purpose?

13. Socrates Without

Socrates without his interlocutor
Is about as much sense...
So you may believe they are worthless,
But the opinions of other men,
Though disagreeable,
Are not to be erased because you won.
For then the argument makes no sense
Without them.
And this is why censorship is wrong.

14. Civil War

ICE and IRS fight their civil war
And the American people suffer.
Antifa and Proud Boys riot in the streets
And the American people suffer.
Let it go.

15. The Horse's Plough

The smell of the horse manure
Wafts up into my nose.
I walk, beating my chest,
"I am my enemy, not the world outside."
So I beat my swords into ploughshares,
And I do not learn to war.
The lake is frozen,
But the air and sun are warm.
It is better to be the horse
Taking the plough
And to ignore the world's warfare.
For it is not my war:
My war is much more severe than that.
I do not want it...
I fight you, o my adversary,
By taking the reigns and to plough
My heart's fields, and forget trouble in the world around me.

16. The Modernist Way

The modernist way
Is to make all things fay
As ugly as hell
And use it as a spell.
That is why no one is happy.

17. Buddha and Christ

I walk down the path,
And I consider, why He?
Jesus Christ my Lord?
And I consider Buddha
Whose feats impressive, seemed more

Like a warlock than
A genuine human being.
And Christ walked the walk.

I ponder myself,
That I, a glorious sage,
If I ever were...

If I could heal, or
Do any of the things they
Both did, and power
Proceeded from my voice. Shook
The world... were't not perfect.

I was stifled in
Inaction, and couldn't live.
I was imbalanced.
That is why I, nor Buddha
Could ever satisfy aught.

We were both too selfish. So
Do not worship us.
Though he a warlock and I
A scholar... neither
Of us lived the way Christ lived.

18. A Response to Atticus

“To be a poet,
“Arrange a broken flower
“So it’s beauty comes.
“Yet, know, youth’s bloom is fragile:
“Some things cannot be repaired.”

19. Watching the Theater

A woman played her conga drums,
Perfectly timed, expertly rhythmed.
The crowd at the theme park waited,
Silently listening, avoiding the heat.
She had played her best performance
And thought to receive thunder.
Only silence.

The company were too hot,
And didn't know what kind of show it were.
We didn't know...
Yet, years later, I still think of her
And her excellent performance.

I wish I had applauded then...
But the strangeness of it all
And the heat of the day.

20. Let America Burn

Let America Burn.
The illiberal gangbangers,
The mobs policing free speech,
The fascists arresting citizens and lawful workers,
The country bumpkin who only knows "guns, beer and titties",
The political manipulators,
The LGBT agendas,
The rich politicians,
The Atheist Illuminati Spies,
The greed,
The lasciviousness,
The bad educations, 
The colleges that undermine the students' faith in our ideals.

When I say burn it to the ground,
I don't mean Paul Bunyan or Johnny Appleseed.
I don't mean Mount Rushmore.
I don't mean our history.
I don't mean our science.
I don't mean our constitution.
I don't mean our freedom.
I don't mean our faith.
I don't mean our police or military.

I mean, burn down the institutions that took that all away.
And to give liberty and justice for all.

21. I, Like Mary

I, like Mary's witness,--
A child seeing things, she a woman,--
Didn't understand the details,
But saw the effects.
So she told Luke what she told him,
When it was merely coincidence
That they went to Bethlehem where Jesus was born,
And she thought it were for the census;
It was so their son could be born in the city where David lived.
I told the YouTuber what I witnessed...
But was wrong in the particulars.
But, I witnessed it all the same,
When Churches formed, and the slow decay
Of my denomination.
Be a little patient, if the facts don't add up,
That is a doctrine to understand...
For in-between the lines is where the true story is told.
Not the pedantics.

22.  A Poet on Descartes

To empty all my beliefs---
Let me do so. 

I see a world outside of me.
When I am awake.
I cannot sway it.
I cannot change it.
I can take its material
And shape it.
I can look at it
And report on it.
I can witness it.
But what I haven't witnessed
I cannot say is true.
What I witnessed
Are wills in opposition to mine.
A whole world, and many places
Where they create the way.
And that way you follow.
Or you do not eat.
Or you get thrown in prison.
Or the gun ends you.
Yet, there are also pleasures...
Good food...
Bodily pleasures like sex and soft furniture...
Emotional pleasures like love, peace and joy...
I see collective wills that shape fortune
And enable a soul to prosper,
Or hinder said soul and he starves.
And I see collective wills should foster
Care, and build a world where all can eat from their work.
For work tools the materials of this world,
And shapes them into useful objects.
And we should be free to tool our work
Be it intellectual, to create pleasure or wisdom,
Or material, to feed and comfort.
And we should be free to witness, and speak whatever we see
With no fear of punishment.
And then why do I believe in God?
Specifically Christ?
I look up on His life like I were a geometer,
And I say, "Without this proof, we could not have an evident
"Proof of what life we should live.
"For certainly, other wills make us have pleasure or suffer,
"And it seems this man, Jesus Christ, gave us a template
"To benefit mankind, rather than make man suffer.
"No other sage was like Him, who had both word and deed.
"And I suffer for what I have done to cause harm to others.
"And Christ releases me from this burden
"So I can be light, and not ashamed
"And do the good thing for my neighbor 
"Which I couldn't when I was too ashamed."
And then I look upon the chain of witnesses...
And see Christ was witnessed and accounted
In four self evident tautologies; corroborating His life.
And I say, "Where two men see a thing, what they account
"Together, proves the thing were true.
"What things a reliable witness remembers about a conversation
"Are reliable. And can be accounted as true sayings.
"For I remember stories I heard as a youth;
"And I speak them verbatim.
"And then they are written, and accounted for many generations."
So I know.

23. William of Orange

William the Conqueror comes riding in on his steed
Saying, “Look, o look, at all of God’s bad deeds!”
I look, and I say, “You haven’t a clue.”
And he says, “Why, yes, yes I do!”
And he has all the same critiques of my faith,
Talks about pomegranates and figs and is so irate.
Yet, what did you do that were so good?
Did you feed the homeless, heal the sick,
Or did you make burdens of proof?
Did you annul the righteous and destroy their hope?
Did you unbind the captives or the oppressed unyoked?
All your critiques are the same lame old ducks.
I’ve thoroughly refuted them, but would not say so much.
Greeks were from Canaanites, and Canaanites Amorites my sore
Friend of the bollocks, you have no new criticism of yor.
I say I still believe, and do you know why?
Because you’re just a lawyer, and very unwise.
What did Christ say about the Lawyers you see?
They bind yokes which they will not touch, for they are so heavy?
And do you not, o William of Orange the same?
When you come to conquer, but don’t know a thing?
If you were interested in a genuine faith,
You’d listen instead of argue, and rail and debate.
And may I say, the Hebrews were evidenced you see,
To predate the Greeks by a millennium you see.
More so, as if you account the true faith,
I’ve documented it all, which you seem to hate.
I would have spoken to you, I would I would,
But you said, “He has egg on his face,”
And you know what, you would.
For you are a judgmental tyrant it's true
And a blaspheming, railing, incurable…

24. I Saw My Shadow in the Night

I saw my shadow in the night,
Stealthy and careful for a fight.
A spy in trench coat and dark shades
He looked at me, but I was not afraid.

25. Everything in Life

Everything in life is a fight.
It is a loony tune, of strife.
We fight over our nugget of gold...
I say that is why this world is rather old.

Our homes decayed to the Railroad,
Our books sold down the river the same.
Our jobs stolen by the other guy,
And our wives and children the same.

We call out to God and He is silent...
We suffer in the prison of this world.
How if this were the only silence,
I would wither and die and curl.

You ask me why I'm a Christian,
I say it's because I've seen enough
Of you and your great fat glory;
I've seen the wicked given good lives.

And I've seen the righteous a ball of sorrows
And I've seen the wicked use enchantments the same
To cause bad thoughts to wallow
And to cause all our health and wealth to fade.

I still believe. You understand?
Because if there is no heaven there is only man.
And man I distrust more than God,
So I hope and cling to His cause.

If God is good then there is heaven,
And man cannot that treasure take;
In our lives we only become dead men,
Yet if only this life we get, there is hate.

26. She Has the World

Maub, David, Ferguson,
And the ten kings,
You will have the world.
You fought hard,
You are the champion
Of the world.
Take it... take it all.
Your world is yours...
And these books are mine.
You took your world,
So have it for your hour.
You will have your world.
I will have the city of Zion.
For she is beautiful.
More beautiful than what you can have.
And I will have cities of Gold,
And fruit trees of life,
And grain in every blade of grass...
I will have living water in rivers
And a plateau of Gold
144,000 cubits in breadth, height, and width.
I will marry Hephzibah,
And the trees will clap,
And the animals and insects
Will make all manner of milk and honey.

You have fought, and I Scythian war.
They forced upon me, and raped me
With their designs... so you take it.
I never wanted it, except for a foolish
And proud babble as a child,
Which took me from a good world
And put me here. So you take it.

27. Who Am I?

As man forgets to do his math---
It is no longer real to him---
And no longer can we do calculus,
And the English Scholar cannot read Dickens,
And the Physicists subtract their data...
I say, who am I?

Dynamometers and CAD programs 
Can give us the exact curve
But stubbornly we try to do it our way.
Reinventing the wheel and science...
For we believe ourselves to be gods.

We are no gods.

Who am I?
A man with a complete education.

28. My Soul

My soul is my living body.
My breathing, living body.
My breath, my life, my whole.
My mind, made of flesh.
My life, my very life.
Deliver my Soul from the Grave,
Oh LORD, and Keep me in your statutes.

29. The Acolyte of Destruction

The church, no matter where you go,
To one church, 'tis a liberal show
Of platitudes, and their one thing
They might get right, they get all wrong.
For, Arks must be carried on poles,
Ceremony a holy show.
And I go, not seeking sermon,
But rather my most holy bread,
And the acolyte proceeds not
Down the aisle at his hour.
No, he lights it yor the service.
So! Ceremony must be right.

Another church, speaks hour's long
Deep theology, talks too long;
And no liturgy do they have
But long winded sermons and dead
Anxiety in pews. Many seats filled.
And long winded, with many words
And hypocrites who love to curse;
One has no sermon, and no rites.
The other a long winded strife.
No song then bowing knee, showbread
Comes out with no splendid belief.
Just many words and no order.

30. Church 2026

Bread and circuses, trapeze and line dances;
Vulgar pop songs remade with Christian lyrics.
A little Magic by mixing oils in water
And enhancing them---for water has memory
I suppose, so the more you dilute it,
The stronger its healing properties get.
The Lutheran Church's liturgy is out of order.
The Baptist preaches platitudes, or searches for a large congregation
For it's his meal ticket.
The hard line pastors are trying to appeal to the youth.
But, the youth want the world, and its weird.
The preacher drop kicks a bible--literally--
Bathes in maple syrup, gives away fancy cars at a lottery.
Charity is also a sin... and there is only this life.
So get it, and get it well.
Church is a party, and not a place of peace.
Sermons are psychology;
Hymns are one dull sentence repeated a dozen times.
Sunday school? Where can you find it?
Where will they teach you the basics?
No, kids have soccer, and swimming,
For that is more important than reading, writing and arithmetic.
So doubly the children are illiterate and can't read their Bibles.
They date the Rapture, and sell all they possess, only to be thwarted
And left destitute. Unknown to them, is Jesus told them they couldn't know.
They cry for war, power, money, fame, fortune...
Go to war... for war is good. There is only this life.
Christianity is about the strong prospering.
It is about the weak being kicked.
It is about fighting war, and swords, and crushing the impoverished.
It is about winning. It is about loving life.
It is about loving yourself and not your neighbor,
And marriage, and adultery, and food, and drink,
And getting houses, and children, and clothes, and enjoying your victual.
For there is only this life. So have fun.
And employment ceases, so there is marijuana to save you. And make you feel good.
But alcohol is bad. Drink non alcoholic grape juice at communion
But smoke the reefer while you play your violent video games.
Men are no longer men, and women no longer women,
But we idolize both manhood and womanhood,
And know not Jesus who said both had the same kind of soul,
And the kingdom would come when there was no difference between us.
For we must be hyper masculine, and hyper feminine,
And assigned to our gender roles...
Acting, playing, pretending,
Never friends.
All things a formal joke...
Relationships shallow and at the local bar for some coffee, beer and appetizers.
That is where you meet, at youth group, and the moment there is community
It dissolves into nothing, and the next gathering is pioneered,
And sought, and then again, and again...
Never a real relationship formed beyond the skin level.
And then where your soul goes when you die
No one cares, for it is about getting and filling this life, and only this life.
Just as Jesus had said...


31. 70 x 7

Forgive your debtors.
For if you are poor, trodden
In the mire; weak.
If your life is destroyed by
Someone, rest assured, heaven

Ought to be your true pearl.
Therefore, forgive all

Your debtors, and rest on heaven's treasures.

Let them be rich, son.
Give them the world they crave.
And lay the bedrock
Of Christian counsel. Forgive.
Trowel heaven's golden streets.

32. The Fledgling

The Fledgling author,
Like me, like you, like us all,
Struggles to make sense
Out of everything. Thus, speaks
In long paragraphs, unknown

What he is saying.
Thus, if he continues, and
Breaks plateaus, he will
Excel above the rest. Push
Past the wall of writer's block.

He struggles to say
What he really means; embers
Of subconscious swear.
Unconscious, until words will
Become a true part of him.

33. Planetary Idyllic, II In Pentameter 

Across the planes of a planet, the size
Of Venus, right in the goldilocks zone,
There is a Red Giant---so this planet 
Is where Pluto resides, and is well warmed.
The red giant casts a sunset like glow
Over the corn, and the Maize, with yellow sky
And pink clouds. Continual sunset, peaks
Of red clay stand on a plateau, across
The horizon, a plateau larger than
Everest in width, height and its red breadth.
Sun sails pull a hexagonal beehive 
In a mushroom, in the red atmosphere,
And there it pulls across the horizon.
Threshing buggies made of wood thresh the corn
And strong, farmer's bodies make the corn, throw
It into barrels. A winding river, pink
Swerves across the landscape, the grass a dull
Burgundy against the sunlight. The sun
High in the sky, at this planet's noontime...
The clocks set for twenty-four hours of
Babylonian base twelves. But it is 
Truly like a twenty-six hour day.

34. Today

I don't know. 
If up is down, then down is up, 
If left is right, then right is left. 
Right? 
Male is female, Female is male, 
Everything is grey, nothing's white or black, 
Also no colors. 
A whale's a fish, 
And math is not real.

35. A Love Poem

If I were to write a love poem
What shall I say that hasn't been already said?
What shall I borrow, or lend?
Shall I call myself new, but only talk of lust?
The world's lust is new, but my feeling is old,
And my satisfaction deep.
My feeling is true love, my beloved,
And your drink is my opium...
But it wakens me. It does not put me to sleep.
Melancholia is my heart...
And I am too old to be infatuated.
No, it is you and I, building our house
And raising our children.
It is friendship I crave...
Understand?



©2025 -2026 B. K. Neifert
All RIghts Reserved

I think to rebel against good Jesus:
"You do not ever establish Your good law.
"No, Your flock now preaches sin is okay,
"And my poverty is proof of that. I'm
"Mocked and berated and called a fool by
"All Your people, and called a heretic
"For trying to live righteously." I sigh.
"Yet, will the world accept your law, though
"I know not even Your flock does? I love
"Your law, it is my whole meditation.
"Once again, will the atheist forgive 
"My debt? No, they will never. Thus, only 
"You have the power to forgive. Christians
"Will not love me, atheists neither. Yet
"You forgive all debtors. So I believe.
"Is there great reward for me on this Earth?
"None that I can see... for I love you LORD
"Yet why does Your hand not reach down and pluck
"Me from my desperate state? Why am I mocked?
"Why am I teased and called a fool by all?
"Ah, 'tis only consistent with Your Word.
"For the righteous suffer long in this life.
"Now I understand, my LORD, Your great truth."

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

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

My Blog is Free. So please help support my work, by buying a copy of my books. Either a Kindle, which will pay me 1 dollar, or a paperback, which will make me a premium. 

Thank you.

Noem v. Vasquez-Perdomo

The Wise Man's Meaning

Read George Eliot like Dr. Seuss.
Do a Geometry problem with ease of algebra.
Write with lucidity of the sages.
You have a complete education.

Love a wife like she were your own soul.
Feel her sting, and make flesh and bone from her flesh and bone.
Love your parents and grandparents who sired you.
Love your aunts, uncles, cousins and friends.

Work with sweat pouring off your brow.
Use wisdom in your craft, and be mindful of your every forge.
Understand the hidden mysteries, and seek out many counsels.
Combine what works of all men’s advice, and you shall be well.

This is life. Eat good food, drink good drink,
And love and learn and labor.
That is all life is for;
You discover this, you shall be content.

The Fool's Meaning

Avoid reading, for it is wearisome.
Math is not as important as play.
Write in the common tongue, for no one understands the sages.
Education is for making money, nothing more.

Make love to whomever you please,
For they shall be gone tomorrow.
Relationships are warm bodies and grow tiresome.
Family is not important, if they suit no need.

Work to eat, for it is burdensome.
Do the minimum to get paid, and no more.
There is no need to do it well, or learn from a master.
Just find all the art of your career from yourself.

This is life: adventure, play, and infatuation.
Eat or drink, it matters nothing.
That is all life is for, is to play
And it is all for thrills and enjoyment.

1. The Amateur

So defensive are you,
My good friend, for your soul
Cries out every word. Speak!
One day you may be the
Grandmaster poet. Though know
“A sigh is just a sigh
“A kiss is still a kiss,”
Therefore, seek the fortune
Of friendship… not barren
Craft of your own echoes.
Cares, joys, life lived in verse;
It will pass you by… she
Will look on you when you’re
Old, and say, “Where had you
“Lived?” and you will say, “I
“Lived in my mind…” and die
Knowing life was out there.
Yet, trapped in the silence,
And adventure is not
Possible, for a meek
Soul is your possession:
Write… yet know few truly
Can read. It’s all mirrors;
They don't actually know you.
As that is how they’re trained.

2. A Vision of my Future Wife

I see you, with your eyes so bright...
Looking at me in a vision.
Awake... alive...
Your beautiful face 
Framed by your eyes
Wholesome, true, for me.
Is it adoration? No.
Simple friendship and love.
It is that you like me...
And we love each other for all days.
And your eyes, shift to that wholesome desire,
They narrow, and look down.
Not bashful, or ashamed...
Simply as my wife,
With whom I will share true friendship.

3. Love

Your auburn hair—eyes so awake—
The beautiful nose, and teeth…
Lips with sensuous lines…
Will you smile for me?
Will I hold you in the moonlight?
Will our scent be filled in our room?
Will our house smell of us and our things?
I know nothing… save that I love you.
Laws change, wisdom changes, all things change.
History is written by victorious warlords.
Romance is defined by a few misanthropes.
Philosophy made new by new sages;
And then again forgotten except by other forgotten sages.
But, I know between us, what is defined
And my heart beats for you.

4. Calculus

Bonaventura Francesco Cavalieri;
How you bring your math to the forefront.
You discover Geometric Series,---
And some say Archimedes was close,---
And combined them with Babylonian math---
Of area underneath a slope---
And the knowledge of Asymptotes, so
Leibniz and Newton discover Calculus.

5. My Love

My Love is not a mathematician,
Like me.
She is not a student of literature,
Like me.
She is not a historian,
Like me.
She knows no psychology,
Like me.
She doesn’t understand politics,
Like me.

Why do I love her, though?
Because she understands something more worthy
To be called a subject…
Which is how to authentically love another person.
When we talk, she listens,
And she understands me.
She knows my ideas,
And often repeats them like her own.
She is loyal to me, and no one else.
She loves me… you understand?

I would give up all wisdom for her,
Save that one Lawful wisdom on how to love.
I’d be poor, and a ploughboy for her.
I’d give up my dreams and forfeit all knowledge
Just to know her.
For, what better thing is there on Earth?
Than to love the one who loves you?

6. Happiness

You see that I am unhappy
And you then say, "Aha, Aha!"
Without knowing, o thou foul fool
You destroyed my wealth, heart and joy.
As a kid I was full of joy.
I had love in great, great measure.
Rich off the sweet fat of friendship.
Then you all taught me how to sin.
And joy slowly stripped away, self, 
I was told to love;---and you too.
Your counsels made me so selfish.
And then you say, "Why, fool, don't you
"Rejoice with the world like we?"
And I say, "I'd rather suffer
"For doing no wrong, than rejoice
"In the mournful glee you possess.
"And then return to my joys once
"Again, when I enter heaven.
"For here, is no more of those great
"Ecstasies I have once tasted."

7. The Merchant

He lived life, a noble life.
It was not great, nor was it strong.
It was meekly blown by winds of fortune and chance
Where men could sail over the billows of foam—
He the sailor of life, not the captain nor the crow’s nest,
But the tar who shined the deck.
Fortunes were lost, fortunes were gained
Time was spent in vain and in noble pursuits.
Love was scorned and love was embraced.
Neither pirate nor a soldier,
But a marine upon a merchant ship…
He bore no arms, but was virtue itself.
His voice mild and tender, and without force…
He sung a thousand songs on that ship, never made rich
But never made poor.
The ship of life we sail.

8. Five Limericks

I talked to my girl last Tuesday;
She fell off the horse in a lewd way.
Cause she got steaming drunk
And called me a hunk
But I said “Ma'am it must be April Fool’s Day.”

I sent my son to the bar.
He couldn’t make it very far.
He came back with a degree
But I wanted some mead
Yet to scold him I hadn’t the heart.

I had some stomach pain;
My mistress, she had the same.
So we sat on the pot
And juggled a lot,
And that’s how Ol’ Scotty O’Neal was made.

The poet was told by the thief,
“You have nothing,” oh what a relief.
So the poet turned some lines
The thief drank a flagon of wine,
And the poet won himself peace.

There was a dog that always howls,
And a cat that had always prowled.
The Woman of the keep
Made a great leap,
When they couldn't even catch a mouse.

9. Fall of the Roman Empire

The fall of the Roman Empire,
Romans fight with Goths and Visigoths,
Vandals and Franks, as they also fight.
Then, the German Suebi, and Sciri and Rugii and Heruli
Fight their wars with the Goths and Visigoths.
Comes the Huns from the East,
And the many factions war.
And as the Western Empire dies,
Europe is born, from Franks, Vandals
Visigoths and Goths
Suebi, and Sciri and Rugii and Heruli,
Who become French, and Germans, and Spanish
And Portuguese. 

10. Jim

I read an unapologetic account of the life of one man.
The most wretched human being, the most soulless,
The one with the least amount of love for anyone but himself.
I read it, and understand... yes... this world is built for him.
Let him have it. All of what he's saying is false...
But he will never know, as his lifestyle becomes more popular.
And then, people who want the real thing
Will never have it. Because of Jim.
A 71 year old swinger.

11. Genius

If rich, you shall be seen by all.
If poor, you shall be ignored...
So said the poet McGonagall. 

If we just read it without music...
Not that artificial bell and hop...
Just read it like prose,
And let the music naturally aspirate...
It would not create the funny effect it does.
And we'd get an entire education.

I must say, I see myself in him.
I see myself in Chaucer, also.
What we learn, is politics makes the man;
And boasts leave you destitute.
But, McGonagall is right.
Genius is rewarded, more for the wealthy
Than for the poor.

12. Genius

Genius is rewarded,
Yet only if you're rich.
The poorer you are, the less there's to get.
The poor in their factories
Many a man,
Were by the blackness of coal
Worldly damned.
They could be great inventors
Or artists, or the sons of the dawn.
Yet, they died poor and miserable,
Enriching their magnate's sons.
Their peers say, "Enough!
"Try not to reach for the skies!
"Just do your work, and let your ambitions die!"
So they do, and are said to be stupid like you...
Yet if a wealthy man, no one would say it were true. 

13. Investing Advice

Find a way to make a lump sum
Of 1,000,000 dollars.
Invest in stock that pays out 5% dividends;
Or buy CDs at 4% annual interest.
Gambling.

Other than that,
You go into 120,000 dollars of debt
To purchase a degree
In an industry that may or may not exist in ten years.
You get brainwashed by bad information
And radicalized.
Too much debt.

Or, you go work for 15 dollars an hour
At some job, which never increases
And 10 years later your 15 dollars is worth 33%
Of what it was originally valued.
Too much work for too little.

Or you go to trade school,
Learn a blue collar job--which is safe--
But for someone who has a physical disability
Or isn't the most coordinated
This may not be an option.
Good for someone who has keen body awareness.

Or you become an Engineer or Doctor 
Or Accountant or Lawyer. Which loads a person with a lot of debt.
And some people may not be the best student
So won't do well in those professions.
Good for A students.

Go into the Military
Or become Police.
Good for ruining your faith in humanity.

14. A Basic Love Poem

Roses are red,
Violets are blue;
Come find me my love,
So our lives are made new.

Through the lattice
And by a cracked door,
The keyhole is found
And you I’ll adore.

Come find my my love
And we’ll be ever at peace.
We shall be wed to our deaths
And indulge every feast.

Roses are red,
And violets are blue;
I know not your face
But hope you come soon.

15. I Sit Upon my Chair, and I Wonder

I sit upon my chair, and I wonder…
What have liars said of love?
Was it all knowing, all seeking, all encompassing?
Was it brave? Was it irresponsible? Was it foolish?
When I was young I knew, and knew love well in me
Through every moment… every pretty girl out there, gave me
Swells of infatuation.
Now, I have dim feelings.
But, spark the fire again in me…
I know I am better for it.

16. As a Poet, I Put My Heart to School

As a poet, I put my heart to school,
Listening carefully to my tutor's words.
They impressed upon me, though once a fool,
A wide girth of knowledge and no great curse.
I saw the hyacinth grow, tuft to bell,
And its sweet perfume was sweet to my nose.
For life without poetry would be hell,
So no snob of this age can turn me cold;
Though they write upon my gray epitaph:
"He was lame, and dull of mind and so dumb,"
I harmed, know this all, I harmed at the last
Through my heart's pleasing epistles no one.
For without my songs I would then turn dark
And never found God, I would not be smart.
And at last, with fortunes made I'd turn black;
And upon my good God have turned my back.
For with the knowledge of this shining craft,
I have made to God a divine road-map.
I have laughed, and shed many a clear tear
And written of peace, for two dozen years.

17. A Poem

I look upon the rosy world
And I say, “My, how things have changed.”
Yet cruelty still abounds my dear,
It just took on a different name.
Suffering has been great and cruel
The mind dulled by the loathsome sting;
Where once men ate porridge and gruel
They now feast on sweets, figs and wings.
Yet they have no love to caution
And no comfort of greatest springs.
Where once all men had to suffer
Now in pleasure they call it king.
Thus, I wrest from my own demons
To warm my fellows with my wise.
I spar with them with sword and shield
And I kill them by being kind.
Yet I gaze at the prideful looks
And I shake my head with great grief.
I see revelry is partook
And I see none do lack their needs.
I say, “World is fat, and full
“And all eyes feast upon sweet pears.
“The white of their dolce, oaky flesh
“Says now, ‘Never have to beware.’”
Yet the world has coldest hearts
And men have sought the golden prize;
Wealth exchanged for loving virtue
Pleasure exchanged for what is wise.
And what was a good world turned back
To what was impoverished and grey;
As my expressive face grew flat
I found I needed Christ always.
For if I acted right and true
And wrestled my demons, not yours;
I’d be a better man, who soon
Would lift your sorrowed heart some more.
For I could light you with a fire
And make you taste what I now know;
All love and goodness and great joys
From Lord God Jesus Christ do flow.

©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. Letter to Amarisa

I feel like Hamlet, and you are Ophelia
And in some strange ironic twist of fate
The demon in me has found you, and like Althea,
Has left you, and I am only thwarting myself.

My soul, as Saint John had said,
Let it see prosperity. Shave off from me the grave
I ask God to take the knife of Circumcision
And cut the wicked thing from me.

I know that is not your name, Amarisa,
And I have only seen it once in a dream
When I saw that beautiful Amish Girl
Playing Frisbee in the woods.

Beatrice, Amélie, your face has inspired
Many poems, and so has your purity.
You have been heaven to me and Zion.
You wore God like Stephen did.

I have no memory of meeting you
Or seeing you, save that one time...
And I feel my Doppelganger thwarts me;
Is it a Folkstem of myself? Or some Magic?

Marry me... come find me...
But if I say, "I am born a Bachelor,"
Do not climb the willow branch
For that saber toothed lion is not me.

I have seen him in my dreams
And fear he is a part of me---
But I saw his canine teeth
In the mirror. Death, I call him.

Do not be maddened my dove;
For I wish only to have what is pure
And not be lonely. Stay strong, and alive
And know I--the conscious being who speaks--

Want love and matrimony.
But, Tyrants have placed death
As a veil over me, and I have become his puppet
As he teases the world with my vanities.

2. Cuddling

I lie with you, nude,—it never was—
And into your brown eyes—or blue or green—
Your heaving bosom beautiful,
I lay with you, skin upon skin,
Love exudes from my heart
And the opium of your love flows
Through my veins.
We made no loves, but slept in one bed
And lie in our nuptial bonds.
It was love, and skin, but not amatory’s sting
Simply love, full of friendship.
We said I love you.

3. Hope

What may be my last poem I ever write...

Let me never die, let me never die,
Do not let my hopes perish in this life.
Answer me swiftly, and give me Zion
And let me enter Everlasting Peace.

Let me love, o, let me love eternal
Souls, and let me feel compassion in my
Inward parts, and let me feel tender love
And mercies toward every person I meet.

Let me have desire; I will enter
My wife, and be knit with her soul
And create flesh tied with flesh, children
For us to raise and build a life in truth.

Let not riches corrupt me, poverty
Destroy me, let me not be foolish in
Giving, but let me uphold those whose needs
I have with me to fulfill; have and give.

Lord, let me learn, let me learn all there is
In Your Wisdom and Peace, and honor's might.
Let me be full of learning and wisdom
And let me teach many sinners the way.

Lord, I am sick in mind, and sick in soul
For I have doubts of myself, and sickness
In my very being. Yet, let me be 
Healthy, and an ointment on all others.

Lord, I have seen peace, so increase it well
And let me eat, drink, merry, but fast strong
And abstain from sin, and do good and well,
And  see good in the land of the living.

Lord, let me teach on the honor of God
And let me convert many sinners to 
Your paths, and let me build foundations strong
Of Christ's opal Diamond, red, green and black.

Lord, give me truth in my most inward parts
And give me truth in my inward being.
Give me faith, and truth, and honor's blessing.
Let me never be ashamed, and restful.

Lord, give me pleasant  labors, and good work
Which gives me rest in my inwardmost bones
And gives me health and flourishing, and feels
Good, and is not a strain to my body.

Lord, war is utmost evil, it is wrong
But sometimes what is wrong must be done. All
Things in this world have times and seasons
A season for all things under the sun.

Yet hope is perpetual. I shall live.

4. Gratitude

I sit upon my couch, and I ponder the blessings.
Cups I bought from the pickled peppers,
Perfect glasses for drinking.
Moana, which you see on my one book cover.
Jesus in the Garden of Gethsemane.
A Father-clock. The palm from a Palm Sunday
Accents the portrait of Jesus.
A green poinsettia in Mid July.
A Hexagonal Fish Tank with my fish
On a hexagonal wooden stand.
I have the 1947 portrait of Jesus
In my room, with a globe, lantern
Sea Shells and in them Polished Semi-Precious stones.
My Dad's poems he wrote, framed well by me upon the wall
With that little newspaper clipping off to the side and perfect formatting
Of attribution font.
My bookshelves my Pappy made,
The cupboards and paper towel roll too.
My chess table, expertly carpentered by a family acquaintance from church.
My Nanny's plastic vase with plant.
My Mom's glass bluebird and my July Bear.
Paintings which relatives made, and photographs.
Pound Puppy and my Nanny's Afghan she knit
And my Mimi's afghans too.
My bird book by Reader's Digest that 
I used while bird watching with my Pop pop.
My Grandma's memory;
My Aunt Kim's judgment of aesthetics.
A cappuccino maker, every household appliance
Good cookware. Stainless Steel cutlery.

One thing I learned from psychiatry
They left one good piece of advice
Out of thousands of bad ones.
Gratitude is the elixir which remedies depression.

5. Poverty of Sentiment

I look at other households,
And see things.
But not real things.
I see fancy art, made cheaply on cardboard
I see stone tables, plush pillows
Couches made from leather
TV and Computers;
Good appliances, wicker chairs---but artificial ones.
Most houses I go to, that's what I see.
Not antiques handed down from four generations
Or art and furniture made by family members.
I understand why our country is frustrated.
Everything is new, and disconnected from the past.

6. The End of Enthymeme

The sages discussed, "We cannot touch it,"
When adding up infinities...
Thus, all engineering failed
And so with it all laws of physics
And so with it all laws of math and science
Beyond rudimentary geometry.
All because they couldn't accept
The Bible were true.

7. The Great Horned Owl

It looks like a hooded assassin
Upon the lamppost.
Its head and neck like a man's
And body like a monk's.
Then it flies, and you see
It's speckled chest.

It helps you understand
Why ancients were fearful of them
And they will make their perch in Babylon.

8. Crookes

I see you fail at making the Rifle Team at school.
Looks like you shopped around, looking for a mark.
'Prince Harry--maybe--Joe Biden, Donald Trump.'
I see you see Trump will be nearby.
I then see, to prove to the world you got the stuff
I witnessed you kill a fireman.

Though, the question still remains,
Why didn't secret service cover the sniper perch?

9. The Death Penalty

I am a supporter of it.
People did not indiscriminately kill men women and children,
Nor were our cities a warzone,
When it existed.
50,000 people a year die from Gang Violence.
They hide that from you, though.
The fact that there were such a penalty for it
Would certainly make them think twice.
Not to mention, it'd be more merciful
Than simply locking them up.
It'd give the criminals a chance to repent,
And quickly go to the gallows,
Where they could at least save their eternal soul.

10. White Rider

Your peace is false...
I see it... everyone cries peace.
There is no peace.

11. 

She loved him more than all else, 
And he touched her walls 
With the flower petals 
And the two made children 
In the eveningtime; 
For Ten Months the child 
Lay in the womb from conception 
For his seed had found her. 
The two were wedded by Wisdom 
In passion and honor and truth. 
 
Do not awaken love, unless she is ready. 

12. Dick Dawkins

No, I'm not making fun of you--
My grandfather was named Dick.
You beautifully summate everything I hate
About Christianity. But know, that's not my religion.
My religion is not a mind virus.
It is compassion, and something much deeper.
Something the rational animal needs,
Or they go completely insane.

13. Five Meditations on Logos

1.

Know the way, but do not depart.
See it, but do not say.
Speak it, but not to excess.
Know only to walk circumspectly,
And do not daggle by falling off the balance.
For if you soil your garments by straying to the left or right
You are monumentally off the path.

Seek, and you shall find.
Know, and you shall understand.
But that which is known is known
And that which is unknown is unknown.
But what is known, can only be truly understood
If it is seen by others—
That which is unknown cannot be known by others.
But that which is not perceived, is not known
And cannot be knowledge.
And that which is knowledge,
Cannot be known if it is unperceived.

2.

To understand is to see what others have seen.
To communicate, is to cause others to see what you see.
To know is to see what others have seen.
To communicate, is to know what others have seen.

Underneath language is truth.
Underneath words are substance.
There is a faith associated with substance
That what is underneath is understood.
Can we know the substance of other's speech?
We truly cannot, but we truly can.
Hidden in the mind is its knowledge
And shared in another mind is its knowledge,
And two minds meet, and find new dimensions of the substance of language.

3.

To see is not to want to see.
To know is to want to know.
To see is not to want knowledge as you see it
But to see knowledge as others see it.
To perceive the words of other minds
Is more knowledgeable, than to see your own mind's knowledge.

Half of words are unperceived,
Until much later, they become perceived.
The mind has grown, and sees new things.
Do not let your mind darken
Into seeing the dark
But let your mind see light.
If there is no light in what another says
Do not be ashamed for hearing,
But shine your light upon it to brighten up what is cursed.

4.

Minds darkened by foolishness know nothing
Save their own desires.
Minds lightened by wisdom, see all men's desires are the same.
Yet, the foolish man, has foolish desires
And does not seek what he ought to seek.
For he is foolish, and desires that which will not make him happy.
Thus, the fool knows nothing but his own foolishness
And destroys the precious seeds of faith in others.

For all things are derived from substance and faith in that substance;
Not anything can be known, without the substance.
For, even the simplest thing becomes unknown, without seeing the substance.
Thus, the substance is lost, due to ill conceived desires
Which seek for the lesser pleasures of life.
The substance is found, by seeking the higher pleasures of life.
What are the lower pleasures of life?
Flesh.
What are the higher pleasures of life?
Trust.
Of the flesh, there is no trust or want for knowledge toward your fellow man.
Of trust, there is community and bonds and winsome agreement, and truth.

5.

Where there is no trust, there is no faith.
Where there is no faith, there is no knowledge.
Where there is no knowledge, there is no truth.
Where there is no truth, there is no compassion.
Where there is no compassion, there is no love.
Where there is no love, there is no mercy.
Where there is no mercy, there is no friendship.
Where there is no friendship, there is only self.
Where there is only self, there is only flesh.

14. Misunderstood

There is something about me, which isn't serious
No matter how hard I try to be.
People like me when I play the fool
Because I cannot trick or deceive,
But am a bumbling idiot they can lovingly condescend to.

I try... but my rude speech doesn't entice the listener.
My "Grammar" is bad, but it's that they don't want to listen.
My reasons for believing in God are not substantiated.
Though they are.
People see I am 35 and poor, and no job...
Success breeds success.
Fame, fortune, and popularity makes your word sound credible.
It could be I have solved mysteries,
But no one will care to tell.
It could be I am a silly genius which does my act in the woods---
I cannot perform for you. For I am silly.

I cannot hate Jews, or love Queerness, or wear Purple and Pink or tight fitted jeans.
Rather, people want there to be no good and to see no good.
For it is a mind virus.
Thus, life is about ingratiating the desire...
And no one ever sees there could have been more.
I am an anachronism, a relic, an artefact;
An imitation of older times.
I am new, and old, and modern, and archaic;
Futuristic and anachronistic and ancient.
Shall my time come in this lifetime? Where I can eat, drink and merry?
No... for all want to eat drink and merry their way
Which has no love;
I need love to be happy, and that resource is vanishing like the wind.

And that's all I ever had to say, was we need love.
Not John Lennon's love, but real love.
Not the Hippy's version or the Gay's.
Real love.

"Love is love."
Yes... and you know nothing about it.

15. The Feminist Cycle

For men to grow up,
We need women in our lives. 

Women don't want men, 
So we don't grow up.
Women become single parents,
Boys are their children's fathers,
A whole crop of brats are born who don't know love.

This causes more frustration, 
And frustration causes war and violence.

16. St. Broom

St. Broom came to town, and all the people did what they pleased.
He saw they knew nothing, and strove for all they could.
He showed them God and math, and reassured them with knowledge.
But they hated him and would not listen, thus were starved of good.
He died poor, but the people all saw they were unhappy, and saw he had told them the reasons why.

The people saw he was unhappy too, and saw they made it so.
They knew nothing but that they were all sad, and selfish.
They found God, and pored over His knowledge, and tried it, to see if it were better.
It was, and they all marveled, for they finally found knowledge.
And Broom gave them the knowledge of God and Math, and golden were the ages to come.

17. Literature

The place our good letters play
In the country--Mr. Lewis, 
I am not expressing self
But trying to save many souls--
Is to be a beacon for a better world.
It is not expression of self
But expression of what's true.
It transcends our bodies
And our minds, and communicates
The eternal Providence which guides
Nations, which Indians call Dharma
Greeks Logos, Chinese Tao.
It is so mystical, but it shouldn't be.
It is the eternal truth beneath our language
And the substance of our thoughts
Of which, if there were no substance
There could be nothing of which to say.
Thus, my substance is to save the soul
To save the country, and to save myself.

18. WASP

I am white. I cannot help it.
I am Anglo-Saxon--Scotch-Irish, PA Dutch-Polish--
I am a Protestant. That I can help, but do not see any other religion which fits me.

Do you wish me to appropriate your artform?
Then let me have mine, won't you?

19. The Meaning of Life

So much ecstasy in meaning
So much… but it is now all gone.
Silently, I muse upon nothing;
My mind is a quiet well.
All roads lead back to melancholy.

It shows there is an end to wisdom
And a beginning to folly;
Beginning to folly...
Let us just live and experience,
Yet not do so foolishly.

There is meaning in life
And it is to dance,
And rear children with one you love,
And it is to pluck the wildberry 
From the stem in June.

Yet, no one can attain this joy
For all alike go the same
Working tirelessly like I have
And putting their meaning into it.
There I have found little.

20. I Am A Plain Man Like Jacob

I am a plain man like Jacob---
So said the scripture, now,
Time has wended and bended
And brought us this story---

My performance is plain
My words austere and full
Like an Amish Maid
More beautiful than any other.

Yet, I am a plain man like Jacob.
And the audience looks, and sees
My butter churning upon the oak barrel.
It goes upon life, like bread, which though plain

Nourishes the soul with a slight hint of grain
And that flavor is best among all others.
For, it is not tainted with spice
But rather is a deep, satisfying wheat.

21. The Children

The children are left
Behind, in a winding wood.
I gently say "Don't
"Fall behind, children, for the
"Woods can be a maze. Don't stray."

22. All About Me

Give me one good wife, with good love
And riches not, I need them not.
A field to plough, and a farm to sow
And cattle to milk, I’d grow old.

Give me a little activity, games not a few.
Chess, Scrabble, Pinochle, Cribbage,
A few of the modern ones too.
I’d be happy with my ilk, playing in the rainy days.

Give me a bright virgin with red hair
And beautiful face, and bosom too;
Who loves to help me with the chores
And loves to live with amenities few.

Give me a chapel nearby with a good preacher
And a little beautiful art in my life as well.
Good novels, good poetry, good essays,
But the whole world would rather be hell.

23. The Unachievable

They say only a true master can write
A Petrarchan sonnet, Dear Beloved---
And they say syllabic meter is dulled.
I, a stupid, homely, and unschooled wight
Not schooled in the modern nonsense, will fight
To free pretentions of pedagogues, called
Weighty, and heady, and awesome, which led
To our modern art, where all verse is light.
I pause at every line; I see the pause
They say which interrupts the lay reader
When verse should be read like prose, naturally
Aspirated in our thoughts, for just cause
Have I to say they know not what tender
They deal in---all dealt artificially.

24. Chiquihuite

The Chiquihuite, the Clovis--
You disappear. Why?
Aye, a global flood?

25. The Raging Atheist

They called me a "Hypocrite" and a "Liar"
And said I had no righteousness.
My lie was that Christ is testified throughout history,
The gospels are witness, and there's direct
Corroboration of the events in the Bible.
Of which, I've found many.
I'm a hypocrite because I call out
People's sin, and don't want them to go to hell.

They were right I have no righteousness, though.
Of that, Christ is my righteousness, and no other.

26. The Mystery

I really don't understand the mystery
Behind knowing what something is.
It seems like we've lost everything
By forgetting how to do that.

27. Oh Pelagius

Oh, Pelagius, do you not understand?
By human will we are condemned, 
And not in restful Sabbath?
Man striving after the law
Loses his love, so said Ignatius
To the Philadelphians,
And Asceticism is not good.
Original sin, is that we understand sin
That is our original sin,
Is we chose to have knowledge of it.
Thereby, choosing a different path
We, even as infants, attain the Nation
Not that of Israel. But by choosing 
God, we walk in His rest
And thereby do what is good always.

28. My Life

I wrote volumes nobody would publish.
I rely on others for even the slightest morsel of bread.
I never had a wife, children, debts or money.
I will soon be without an automobile.
I sleep in my childhood bedroom.
But I wrote volumes. And everyone tells me that is no good.

29. School

Seek knowledge first
Character second
Honor third,
Only, make sure it is truth
Of a sort that shall give you wisdom.
Lose none of it.

30. God's Judgment

How might God persuade you,
That you are bound for hell?
I believe, He will give you the full peace
You might have enjoyed,
Should you have come into honor.
The full love, the full blessing,
And then He shall show you
Starting with your ancestors
Their sins, and crimes, which were passed
Down, and the King's sins, too,
Over the land, who wish to corrupt their people,
And then finally, your decisions.
He shall show you every moment
Where you had recourse to better your life
And change, and make way,
And He shall show you all the people
You would have met, and all the people you did
And their crimes, and what God
Would protect you from, should you believe.
And at the end, He shall say,
"If the world chose me, you could have entered this peace.
"And being that perhaps you would have mourned 
"In this life, for a little while, by making the choice
"To follow me, I would have given you this peace
"You feel right now as an eternal inheritance.
"Which you rejected, because your knowledge
"Puffed you up, and so did your sin."
Therefore, you will understand
Why you deserve to go,
And shall enter into torment 
Without protest, but rather a dejected sigh.

31. God's Design

Sine and Cosine, you little angels,
Legs of a right triangle,
With hypotenuse of a radius of one.
You determine so many things.
You shape the formula to get the real answer.
It is not a thing we invented,
But an inherent law in the universe.
To say, "We use it, because it's useful,"
Is teleological, for the cause springs forth its use
That the cause is its self subsistent nature
In the bedrock of all reality.

Calculus, you little angel,
A very difficult curve,
Just like a circle's circumference,
Determines the area of what's underneath you.
And in that area, we can derive
Anything that is the quadratic relation
Of two variables.
And it always works.
And through your infinite series,
And the rates of change,
And the slopes of  the curve
We find a real area,
That determines a real thing.

Quadratic Equations, you little angel
By observing the square,
And fundamentally understanding it,
We can reduce the area of any two dimensional
Object into one dimension,
And thereby, understand the linear functions
Of any area. And that area represents any exponent
To the second degree. And it is,
And this comprehension leads to other laws
And other truths about the universe,
And the logic subsists that it can derive
The substance of anything it relates too--
Including the arcs of a ball falling by gravity.

Infinite primes, you little angel,
We do not "know" there are infinite primes
The same way we do not "Know" there is a God---
Yet we infer in the logical next step,
Just like Calculus solves, that it must be.
For, we only know the infinite sums add up
Because we measure it in its limited dimension,
And see it solves for the rest---
We can know, just like we know there are infinite primes
Due to the nature of infinity,
That God exists through the coherence of the universe.
For we understand it is real, and it all works interrelated,
That a mind had to develop the reality
For us to truly understand and describe it.

I see a design, so know it only can be if God made it so.

32. Metamorphosis: Be in the World but not Of It

Flesh

First, there was the Big Bang
But before that all the cosmos was without form, and was void.
It was utter darkness. God moved among the cosmos.
Then He made Light.
Light was day, and dark was night.

Then, the earth congealed into a ball of magma
And it was liquid rock.
And an atmosphere surrounded it.
Below the firmament were the waters of magma
And above the waters of space.

Then the comets came, and gathered waters
And they fell upon the Earth,
And made the cooled earth an ocean;
And the dry land appeared from the magma.
From the vents of the magma, there began to be life
The first vestiges of green. And they multiplied by war
And violence, and strife.
But it was good.

Then the moon and stars began to form
And so did the sun, for they were dust.
For life began, before the stars,
Billions of miles away,
Were formed, and the sun too,
And the moon, and the constellations.
The life did burgeon forth from the beginning.
And the stars and sun and moon were for the signs of the seasons.

Then the fish, and the birds appeared---
The seabeasts, the seamonsters, and the land monsters---
They strove with one another, in violence,
And killed, and evolved.
And the flesh world was created, through strife.
But, it was good.

Then came the cattle, the little lizards and mice,
The insects grew tiny, and the land animals went to the sea
And the sea animals went to the land.
Some of them, and they made after their kinds.
And they fought, and strove, and evolved.
But it was good.

And then God, from the ape,
Brought forth mankind.
Not Adam and Eve, but men---
And if one wishes, they can be tied to the earthly strife and earthly passions
And its wars and strife.
It is good, but shall not always be.
And man ruled over everything,
The kine, the bugs, the plants, the sealife, the birds and the earth.

Spirit:

The plants are made first, and they are beautiful, the fruit trees of life.
There was mist upon the ground, and no rain,
And the LORD formed man from the dust.
And He breathed into Adam's nostrils,
And gave him life.
Then, Adam wandered, and ate, and was merry in the heavenly Eden
And then there was the Beasts made, who gave Adam company.
For they shall be in heaven, also.
And then there was fashioned from Adam's rib, Eve.
The two lived in worldly paradise,
And ate, and drank, and slept with one another for many days.
And their breath was from God, and given to them by God.
For this paradise had no strife, but was born from love and tender mercies
And man had lineage to their Creator.
And thus, being breathed into by God
On the first day of Creation, Adam and Eve were given everything!
But, they ate from the Tree of Knowledge, so therefore knew sin.
And were cast into this world, this fleshly world, born by strife;
The world created in six days, when God rested from its sorrows on the Seventh for us to be given example.
This world with sorrows, and strife, and famine, and pestilence, and disease,
And murder, and sorrows many.
And Adam and Eve had to clothe themselves, for they knew sin.
Thus, their lineage was directly to God, and they knew Him,
They and their ilk who passed down the stories over generations.
And upon the Ark their stories were passed down,
So men can flee this world of strife, this world separated from God,
And they can be breathed into by Him, 
And live in a garden paradise like these two once did,
Only for eternity, and with no threat of sorrow or sin ever again.

33. Radical Jihsade

Your dirty religion is to dirty 
The world, with your rugs, yes, in real time.

You are in hell, you violent, gay bastards
Who in your Keffiyeh, break in real time.

You ally with gays, and mobs and violence
And wish to purge the world, in real time.

You travel in rambling mobs with hatred 
You do not even know why, in real time.

You're disgusting and liars, and of gall
And your poisoned, green hatred, in real time.

Think about what the world did to me
You stupid fools; what you do in real time.

You are an evil brood, of philistines
And shall perish like Sodom, in real time.

This isn't about Islam or even
Hinduism, but bad faith, in real time

Blood drips from your jowls and your stupid fangs
The bile runs from your lungs in real time.

34. Gods of the Copybook Heading Part II

Then there came the Prince of a New Peace,
The gods they raged through their desire,
They wished to make their Brave New World
And to consume it with unholy fire.

"Men ought to be paid for existing
"Thus we will damage all he has done;
"We will make him a pauper and savior
"Of the world, for we wish only to have fun.

"All deep topics are annoying
"All deep arts are the same;
"Piss and a crucifix in a jar
"Is the only art that isn't lame."

Thus the gods went about their business
Named Athena, Abaddon and Thor,
They grossly laid out their planes
And they scaled a world, no more

Concerned for the worker or his rights
For a writer cannot be paid his dues.
The dog returns to its vomit
Thus they determined Brandon shall lose.

Yet, his work was truly important
And no it was not insane.
It was what would beat the gods
And the world they make, which is lame.

A small income from this art form
A couple hundred a month
Is all he'd need, that
And also a woman to love.

But instead the world went broke
And decided its lusts were grave
They shamed him into deliverance:
For the worlds gods they were made.

The marketplace was demanding
And it wanted no salary earned
Thus Muslim and Chinese terrorists
Flung into a rage, and so spurned.

They hated the truth, they loved a lie
They wanted their squalor back
Thus they took their knives and daggers
And they held it behind Brandon's back.

And at the end, the world was broken
And at the end no one was paid.
At the end they burned the world
And at the end, it was those end days.

All because they wouldn't listen
All because a writer couldn't make a buck
Not even five hundred dollars
A piddling salary earned in a month.



©2024 B. K. Neifert
All Rights Reserved

jeremiahs in the stocks
jude saw jeremiah in the stocks
stocks asked jude why stocks
stocks im in stocks because my nation sinned
sinned have I so let me wear stocks too jeremiah said jude
jude went and put on a wooden stock and stood next to jeremiah
jeremiah said good my friend we both wear stocks together dont we
we do jeremiah but why are we in stocks
stocks we are in because nobody wants any rules
ruling over us are men who are vain and self important and self willed
willing us to be poor and miserable while they grow fat and wealthy
wealth jude is all they care about
about what time will we be taking off these stocks jeremiah
jeremiah stood back and thought hard
hardly a day if all goes right
right then Hananiah came by and looked at jeremiah
jeremiah take off these stocks for god had commanded me the babylonians will be defeated
defeated god didn't tell me that
that god did not but hananiah was persistent
persistent until he had his way therefore jeremiah and jude both took off their stocks from their shoulder
shouldering this burden was heavy jeremiah
jeremiah looked at his friend jude
jude i know im just glad god didnt make me wear them too long
long is usually gods mode of teaching
teach me jeremiah why were the stocks on us now
now because the lord said that judah was wicked and that the whole nation was sinning
sin i dont see anyone getting any better jeremiah
jeremiah looked puzzled and thought
think about it did anyone get better said jude
jude looked at jeremiah and jeremiah frowned
frowns appeared on both of their faces
face me said jeremiah
jeremiah i face you so what do you wish to tell me
my brother you were right for god had just told me hananiah lied
lie down in ashes jude we both had sinned
sin i have jeremiah for i knew it was too good to be true
true now i shall put on stocks of iron
iron stocks hananiah that is what you made all israel wear
wearing down my soul with your spoiled rotten attitude
you caused all of israel to wear stocks of iron now and not stocks of wood
wood stocks shall you wear for a while jude and not iron
iron bonds shall be far away from you
you have shared the burden with me and now i break your yoke
yoke to me the iron jeremiah i wish to share in your shame too
too long will you be in stocks jude if you wear iron for you were wise
wisdom shall be your bread
bread i have never bought with my hard earned money for my stocks are heavy jeremiah
said jude this day panting for the waterbrooks
brooks of water flow in your land jude while many lands are dried up
up you shall be born upon your friend and shall have the scent of lebanon and drink milk and eat honey