A Prayer

Bear with me in my foolishness,

That we may find what is my sin.

I am poor, so therefore live with my brother

According to the ordinance of Leviticus 25.

I have worked the hours of a day laborer

These past ten years, but have not been recompensed for my labor.

I cry out for my labors, yet the peoples say, “He is prophesying for gain!”

I prophesy because of the labors stolen from many of the poor of my people

Who go about their tasks, but become too meek to make meat

For none will take them into their homes.

In fact, even brothers, when they see the poor are struggling

Conspire together to cast him from his home

And band together to seek his life, and to throw his soul into prison.


Yet, the people say, “The prophet preaches for gain.”

If I do, then the gain is only for you;

Do I have need of riches in great abundance?

For I want the poor to be upheld on this earth

And to eat, and drink, and be satisfied with good.


The people say,

“The prophet preached his good works

“And has given a publishing of the free will offerings.”

Have I? I have compared myself to you. Yes.

Perhaps I am a hypocrite.

I lay this to bear, that perhaps I am,

Having suffered much for the Christ

And spoken with the Apostles

And also with the Prophets.

Have I suffered like Paul?

Was I scourged? Was I cast into prison?

No, but all I love have stopped their ears from listening to my mourning

And have plotted to throw my soul into prison.

I feared continually, every day, that I would be cast onto the street, to be a vagabond,

Where I will certainly perish and die, for I am meek.

I have none to uphold me, except men who have despised my soul.

This is not the suffering of Paul, it is correct.

Rather, those I have loved and trusted have despised me;

And what I would have to liberate me from this strife

Those who despise me more and more would not liberate my sustenance from the hand of thieves.


I have been under investigation for a word;

I have been spied on for a word

And every word has been taken into account

Even my secret prayers.

They come to pass, and I say, “Who, who has done this?

“Is it not the LORD?”

And I wonder at the deep revelation that this is.

Yet, my wages are not liberated.

And war will not liberate them.

Rather, who is it that will liberate my wages from those who have robbed me?

Have I taken a loan on usury? Is this why I am being robbed?

Is there any way in which I have committed a fraud?

No more than they do who call themselves “Prudent.”

I say this, “Where is my wage? Why am I still under my brother’s roof?

“I have worked my day labor. I have given myself to work and labor,

“But now I am too wearied, and all my clothings are rags

“And I cannot but sleep, for I have no task throughout the day.

“I cannot dig, but I can offer counsel and aid to the poor.

“Where is my wage? Where is my price?

“I will use it unjustly?—is this why they try to devour my sustenance?

“Must I be with those who have despised my soul?”


The LORD said unto me,

“Do not worry, for I shall bring you the sustenance you desire

“And you will not fear the Heathen who tormented you any longer.”

I say to myself, “It will not be. Will not my soul be among the jackals,

“And my heart among the thorns forever?”

The LORD says, “Oh ye of little faith, believe, and it will be established.

“For your word is Mine, and I shall establish it in its time, will you not see it?”

I then say to the LORD, “Yes LORD, You will establish my work, but how long?”

The LORD says, “No longer will you be called despised, for the LORD has worked

“A work, and has validated your fears for the nations to tremble.

“For you have not prophesied in vain, but have established your word

“As a judgment against the nations; ask and it shall be granted.”

I would not be fearful, but would ask this,

“Let the maid give birth, and let the Assyrian be broken in this land.

“Let the thorns grow up, but Milk and Honey be eaten by your servants the Prophets

“And Apostles, those who were not hypocrites.

“Give them the desires of their heart, which is food and sustenance,

“And satisfaction with offspring, and let us feed on milk and honey

“For our lives,—and the safety our souls with good.”

The LORD says, “One more thing you must ask.”

“Then LORD, let me have the desires of my heart

“To establish Your Word throughout all generations,

“And do not cast my soul into eternal torments,

“But give me everlasting life in your Kingdom. Amen.”


Amendment XXVIII; as a Note, This Is not Law, but You Would Want it To Be.

Article 1: No test shall be administered in due process or in an investigation that is based on subliminal interpretations. Citizens have a right to a fair investigation that does not interpret subliminal actions which are out of a Citizen’s control, due to the possibility of false representations of such actions by authorities or court officials.

Article 2: The rights of an offender are to have public records expunged—in a compulsory act of the courts, by the courts at no fee for the defendant—the moment their punishment is over; and no public record of such criminal offenses are allowed to be kept by private or public officials or individuals, except as a matter of court records, and only for Aye or Nay that such a proceeding had happened, without injury or bias toward the defendant of a criminal justice proceeding.

Article 3: No crime is to have statutory conditions; all crimes must be arbitrated by the courts, and all penalties and duties must be arbitrated by the courts prior to sentencing.

Article 4: Police, prosecutors and investigators, as a matter of jurisprudence, cannot have access or possess records of criminality, due to the inherent bias against individuals who would hold such records. Criminal records, also, are not admissible as evidence in a court of law.






“This Generation Seeks Me With Their Lips”

“This generation seeks me with their lips

“But not with their hearts.

“They change the prophet’s words in order to confound him

“And say, ‘he will neither notice, nor take care.’

“Who, I ask you, Who brings the sun through its course?

“Who waters the lilies, and causes the wetlands to dry up?

“Who causes the rains to fall in one place

“Upon the forests, and yet they do not bear their leafs?

“I, the LORD your God.”

I heard this and sat in wonder,

Seeing the almighty acts of the LORD

Who to this day was good to me

And has not filled my heart with sorrows.

The nations bray and burst into laughter

When they hear the awesome wonder of our God.

But, I say, it is they who are deceived.

Does not rain fall in one place

And not another?

Does not the warmth shine in one place

And not another?

Is there not cold in places where it is warm,

And warmth where it should be cold?

Do the nations truly deceive themselves

To consider that they truly understand this?

For it is the wrath of the LORD,

And no thing else

That causes my lands to dry up.

I watch, and am sore vexed

As pools of water fill the gullies

But where are the budding flowers?

Are they not in Shevat?

Why then do the nations say,

“Aha! Our idols have told us so!

“We are sore vexed, let us fix it by making the nations even more poor!”

Yet it is because of your idolatry,

And nothing else.

For your dishonoring the Sabbaths

And violating the workers’ rights.

For, one man is deathly ill

And you provoke him to come in and do his task.

Another is healthy, but he does not come into work.

One man says, “I wish to have off on the Sabbath.”

And the nation laughs him to scorn.

On your holidays, yes, even these,

All men go about their business

Buying and selling, and having no rest.

Therefore the land has no rest,

And it mourns.


Do the flowers bloom in Shevat?

Do they not sleep?

Do the little animals frolic in the winter?

Why then, do you wander to and fro

Looking for you food, and do not take wonder

At the strange thing the LORD has done?

For you wish to place Baal at every street corner.

Must I be like a diviner

And tell you what is not true?

Tell you strange enchantments to get you to listen?

Must I talk to the flowers

And pretend like they listen?

No, for the LORD has told me.

He is sore wroth at this generation

Who has not the rest of the LORD.

To and fro they go,

Therefore, the forests are become a desert.

And the deserts a forest.

The peoples who have not known His name

Shall know it, and the peoples who honor Him

With their lips shall stop taking the name of the LORD on them.

For they are deceitful.

Do not the nations know that the LORD is God?

Yes, they do know, but they stiffen their necks.

Who is it, I ask you, that brings the rains?

Who brings the circle of the earth to bear

And brings light in due season

And shuts up the light in due season?

Is it not the LORD Who created man and the earth?

Why then are you so mad?

Why do you drive your wagons to and fro

Going place to place

Roaring like a lion fed in the wildernesses?


This people dishonors their God

And they take the name of the LORD falsely

Upon their lips.

This prophet shall be at rest.

He shall eat, shall he not?

And even if it is not so,

He shall rest, knowing the wrath of the LORD

Is upon this nation, and he will sleep

And know that the LORD is God.

The evidence is all around you

Why do you not look?

Did you seek God?

Is this why you said, “I cannot see Him.”

Is this why you offer incense to that shameful thing Baal?

“Come together, and let us reason,

“Though you sins were red as scarlet

“Yet will I make them white as snow.”

Yet, men said to themselves,

“My sins are not scarlet

“They are mine, and mine to bear.”

Therefore, you must bear them

Shameful nation of the Philistines.

Had not the LORD spoken

Yet the prophet sealed the vision?

It was sealed for your hardheartedness

Yet none speak the Words of the LORD

Which are loving-kindness to the generations that seek Him. Selah.


Therefore, repent, and throw from yourselves the idols you carry.

Throw them into the waters,

Like the priests of Rome.

For even they, whom the whole world scorns

Know the LORD is awesome and mighty.

They fear Him, whom Israel says, “These are sinners worse than us.”

Are they Israel? Is not Judah suffering from an unrighteous king

And yet the priests perform the rituals, and they throw away the abominations?

They live poor, and they minister like workers to cleans the sinners?

What does Israel do, but call the police on the innocent man for a word?

What does Israel do, but band together and stiffen their necks against the prophets?

Yet, I say to you, greater woes come if there is no rest.

This prophet will return to his LORD with an ill report about this generation

Who had not liberated him,

But rather loved to have him poor.

“How have we not liberated him?”

By words accountable, you had not laid accusations

Against the government that did this.

Which professes “Freedom” when there is none.

For this, you band together with arms

Which is just what Satan wanted!

No, I say, repent, in dust and ashes.

You grow worse with every folly

And you grow more cold with every sin.

Rather, a man’s work is to be eaten from

And where is this prophet’s work?

It is spoiled by Jackals

And you all know just who they are.

Yet you say, “Let us fight!”

No… For then you will lose.

The Assyrian will be broken by the sword

And by the exorcise of laws.

Yet, my people would not have it.

Therefore, this prophet will rest.

What will you do?

Continue to go to and fro

Eating and drinking,

Marrying wives and blessing children.

Mixed wine is in your cups.

Therefore, the nations who have not known the LORD

They shall seek Him and they shall find Him.

Woe to the generation who rejected the LORD their God

Mighty to save and compassionate to a thousand generations.


Was not my command to you that you be charitable?

Yet, you say, “Charity is weak.”

Is charity weak? Is it an abomination

To give to those less fortunate than you?

Must you, in your vanities

Perform the service of healing,

Yet heal it superficially?

The daughter was violated

Yet you say to her, “Be still, for it is of none affect.”

The man was falsely accused,

Yet you say to him, “It will be alright. Be at peace.”

Yet, with what little abundance they had

They gave to the poor, therefore they will be at rest.

What of you, nation of hypocrites?

Your offerings were to the priests

But what of the poor?

The poor you cast off your stoops.

The poor you called “Degenerate”


And “Lazy.”

Must I prophesy to you?

Is Esdras in your holy scripture?

Is there not prophecy in it?

Is there not prophecies all around you

To testify the power of the LORD Almighty God?

Does not God show Himself through these things?

How you judge a prophet for a little error of wording

Yet you, by your great abundant hypocrisies

Speak foolishness to thousands?

You tell them, “God loves the powerful one.”

You tell them, “God is with the one whose arm has brought him all things.”

Yet, to the poor digging through your  garbage you say,

“Get away! Even our garbage is too sacred for you beggars.”

When will this generation learn?

Did not the prophet set examples for you?

When to follow laws,

And when not to?

When to give, and what to give

And how did he give of his sustenance what he could afford?

You call him lazy, yet he works every day

Silently finding the truth, seeking his God

Finding wisdom, and telling it to you?

If he has one  fault

And LORD knows what it is,

What faults do you have?

If he has spoken falsehood

It shall fall upon his head,

Yet why do you listen to him

Secretly in his bedchambers?

Is this the light of God?

To spy upon the innocent

And lay to bear his every word

Like you yourselves were God?


For the nations are filled with wrath

And the poor man is still not fed.


Was there not one commandment given to you

Above the rest? Who clothed Christ? Who fed Christ?

Who visited Christ in Prison? Who healed Christ when he was sick?

Who had comforting words for Christ? Was it any of you?

Yet you call yourselves greater than this man who speaks to you,

Who did all these things.

You call him a liar for speaking words in utterance hastily.

While you bring it to pass.

Hypocrites. Idolaters. Thieves. Jackals. Serpents.

These words mean nothing to you

Therefore, a new generation will serve the Almighty

And you will altogether go to the pits.


A List of New Literary Devices

  1. Ekphrastic Motabilem – Detailing the process of creating a work of art, or describing the process of skilled work. More specifically, utilizing Ekphrasis through describing the art form or skilled work in its process. Otherwise called “Ekphrasis”, but more technically called Ekphrastic Motabilem.

1. Example: Jeremiah 18:4 “And the vessel that he made of clay was marred in the hand of the potter: so he made it again another vessel, as seemed good to the potter to make it.”

2. Example: “Go, Ploughman, Plough” By Joseph Campbell



2. Hyperloxy or pl. Hyperloxa – An oxymoron expressed through hyperbole, to especially emphasize the last statement and make it stronger than the previous statement, which otherwise should be stronger.

 1. Example: “He is not very wise, but has an unrivaled wit.”



3. A Vulgar – When taking something that usually isn’t vulgar, or even taking a Euphemism, and making it vulgar through tone.

 1. Example: From Wordsworth’s “Transubstantiation”: “And, while the Host is raised, its elevation/ An awe and supernatural horror breeds,”



4. Cantor – When a work breaks into a text with a voice dissimilar to the one established throughout the work, intentionally or unintentionally. Especially where it can be readily noticed. Derived from the word “Cantor” a responsive hymn, where the solo is the break in voice, and the choir is the established voice.

  1. Example:  The Gospel of John as opposed to the Synoptic Gospels.
  2. Example: The Egyptian Maid or White Doe of Rylstone by Wordsworth, as opposed to the rest of his body of Work, reflects stories in the forms of Southey or Coleridge.
  3. Example: The Last few segments of The Riddle in the Sea, by B. K. Neifert, where the form breaks to create an added effect of suspense.
  4. Example: The use of “Mirkwood” in Tolkien’s The Fall of Arthrur.


More will be added to this list, as I discover them.


Save Your Servant Israel

LORD, to where do I turn?

LORD, to where do I turn?

Do I turn to the north?

Will my help come from there?

Do I turn to the south?

Do I turn to the king?

Do I turn to the earth?

What is underneath the earth?


From where does my help come?

Idols do not set before my eyes

I have heard your voice

Idols do not set before my eyes

And I, LORD, I am a listener ready to listen

I am a sheep ready to be set down

In the pasture.

Where does my help come?

Surely all other gods are wolves

Ready to steal

And destroy.

Surely all other gods deceive

And surely they say, “Do some little bit of evil

“So that your will comes to pass.

“Love your life so much

“That you will do this little evil

“And your desire shall surely shine forth like the morning star.”


Yet, LORD, if there is error in my heart

If in my way are stumbling-blocks

Surely You shall remove them.

Why do I, LORD, why do I excel above other men?

Am I something which men look to and say

“This man is my example.”

Surely not, LORD, for You are the example

You are the path set before our feet.

If all else follow after vain idols

I shall surely stay steadfast in Your love.

For where does my heart lean?

If there is a company against me

I shall call upon you early

I shall, before the war

Constantly speak into your ear.


Who are the men who trouble the meek?

Who are those who cause trouble for your servant Israel?

Surely they shall be set forth ablaze

And shall burn for eternity in hell.

Yet, I, I shall listen and wait upon You.

For my salvation is like a wellspring

And my heart a steadfast servant.

Though the company does not believe my words

Though they say, “He lies, there is nothing good in him,”

Though they wait for my feet to stumble

And though they make a diligent watch for sin

LORD return upon their own heads their mischief.

For dreams they accuse Your servant

While they walk forth in slander and murder all the day long.

How long shall the wicked prosper?

Surely you shall not let your servant see decay.

What Faith Is

Faith is substantive.

People say, “Just believe it, and it will come true.”

This is not true.

If there is no truth in what you believe

It will not come true.

That is why faith is the “Substance of things hoped for

“The evidence of things unseen.”

There must be evidence.

If there is no evidence, then there can be no substance

To the hope, therefore, it is not faith.


Faith is not blind.

It is substantive

That there is evidence to believe

What is to be believed,

And that the things you hope for are true.

When hopes are true,

And there is substance to the hope,

And the evidence proves that the hope is true…

Then, there can be faith that what is hoped for is true.


Willing into existence something ex nihilo

Doesn’t work. There must be a tangible

String of real continuity.

It is what separates a mental illness

From mere anxiety.

The mental illness, there is no string of faith

To make the delusion real.

Or, rather, perhaps the faith in the delusion

Is that it is true, and that is your punishment.

Or, perhaps the delusion is positive,

And perhaps there is some faith

To believe the delusion,

And the delusion turns out to be true.

Rather, faith is convincing because of the evidence of substance

On which we hope for something.


It is why Christians are fundamentally wrong.

They cite Moses in Exodus.

But, could Moses have truly walked into those lands?

Was his people able to do so?

Were they able to conquer giants?

The answer is no.

There was no substance of good

In them, because they were all taken into idolatry.

Therefore, the movement into lands

Hostile, and filled with giant men would have been impossible.

Therefore, they all died.

Not because they didn’t move,

But because their hearts were given to idols.


Likewise, when you see a hope dangled out in front of you

And it is retracted,

The best measure of business is to assess that there was no faith

In the hope. There was no evidence of substance to be a reason to hope.

As, faith is logical—

It is not blind.

Rather, if faith is blind it leads to the kinds of issues we see today

Of men zealously trying to climb a corporate ladder

In order to garner the success they so desire.

Faith is not magic.

Faith, rather, is what is.

If something is believed so stongly

As to move a man,

It could very well be a delusion that moves him.

It is not faith.


With that, there is plenty of evidence

That Christ is the LORD.

My faith is built on moral observations

And nothing less.

The world moves,


To the laws set in my holy scripture.

Men behave the way it predicts.

It tells me what I already know to be true.

It doesn’t invent a morality for me,

But affirms the one I already know.


Bad people are bad,

And must be destroyed.

Good people are good,

And must be blessed.

There are a lot of bad people who get nothing bad in their lives.

There are a lot of good people who get nothing good in their lives.

But, it’s up to good people

To make sure other good people stay good

By encouraging them,

And being there in their sufferings.

That is what separates a good Christian from a bad Christian,

Is that a good Christian will see the destitute

And have compassion on them.

They will read their law

And see violence was done away with

When Jehoakim and Manasseh broke the Everlasting Covenant.

No longer are we to slaughter infants in battle.

Rather, the patience of the saints is that they will not

Fight, nor lead a man into captivity.

Rather, it is Christ who will kill

On His second arrival.

And will He find faith on the earth?


Democratic Debate Fails Miserably

I am watching our world fall apart.

There are no responsible leaders


I am afraid,

As is true with all Christians,

That the end is upon us.


Only, this time, it is not just a hoax.

It is not just a careless shout.

It is, with all truth and honesty,

The end.


The democrats, it seems,

Cannot muster the good faith

To help one another.

Warren hounds Bloomberg about non existent sex crimes;

The simple statement, “Women lie,” would have been the first thing that came out of my lips.

And frankly, it used to be that making a reference to someone’s bust

Was merely a summary social faux-pas,

Not a misdemeanor offence.

Buttegieg and the Candidate I did not pray for

Fight and lock horns over who loves Mexico the most.

Sanders, wild eyed, screams about socialism.

Warren defrauds herself to the conservatives

By pandering to Me Too—a cause of false rape accusations

For every woman—

Biden never ceased to make a complete dingbat out of himself.

Bloomberg sympathizes with women who have victimized men.

Nobody likes Me Too;—except the portion of radical feminists

Who can benefit from it.


It is like the Democrats want Trump to be reelected.

But, I know their rampant narcissism is the only thing.

Pandering to radical populations

Who want a socialist dictatorship

Where men are forced to become women, and women men,

And every rape allegation is credible to besmirch a man’s good honor.


Bloomberg looked good.

The conservatives would vote for him;

The moderate Democrats too.

But he should have ran as a republican.

That was his only mistake.


Frankly, we need God right now.

No politician will fix this mess.

None can. It is impossible for them.

As it is, Trump might be our president for another four years.

All I hope is that he does not know;

And if he is angry at me for saying the truth,

Then perhaps the truth needs to be said.

Perhaps he doesn’t know.

Or, perhaps all of congress knows.

More than likely, that is the case.

Let All the Magic Flow/ Into a Little Crazy Book I Know

Let all the magic flow

Into a little crazy book I know.

Let my mind’s greatest fears

Relieve our listeners and reader’s leers.


Oh, how crazy is the thought

Of a magic witch hunt in the spot

Where my ears had seen

Such delusional nonsense to preen.


Oh, make it so, that this little delusional book I know

Takes up all the magic in the land.

Let my books be fair and grand

To help our peoples of the land.

Let them see and read and fuss

And be thrilled by my stories’ rust.


Oh, please absolve me from the sin

Of looking at those pages grim.

Send all the magic into that book

Of fairies, orcs and goblin spooks.


I say, it is all a lie

Simple fairy tales are meant to scry

Into our hopes, our dreams our failings.

They are not meant to cause our railings.

Forget me not! Read my tales

As words that help heal our fails.


Let all the magic flow into there

A little book, a little tear

A little wrinkle of failing ail.

For a desperate monster is this

Book of lies and lustful tricks.


Stay away, let the magic stay…

Please, let my tales be light and gay.

Not to be believed, but rather a farce

To help the subconscious defecate

Its deepest fears in the dark.


For magic is delusional thoughts

Magical thinkings make the brain rot.

Let my books be nice and hearty

Not a magical word spoken tardy.

Let my words be simple tales

Which help my readers feel, so frail

That our sins need washed and bleached

Let the magic go into another book

Not mine, which are so meek.

My Aspirations

I would hope that one day my work

Were like a bridge to the classics.

That a reader would pleasantly love my verse

And start reading more.


Though, on a second glance

After reading those daunting litterateurs

There will be a realization of how poor my craft is.

That my writing, being a bridge,

Brought you to the banks of a better shore,

And my writing was simply a boat that got you there.

Soon, I would wane in significance

As the reader began tasting the treasures I have tasted.


However, when reading over my verse,

There will still be joy,

Like an adolescent writer jotting down journal points

Which are read some years later.


My poetry, compared to the old masters

Is like an adolescent.

It is hard to put down when youths,

But into our blooming years of success

It becomes a sort of gesture to smile upon.


I would like to be smiled upon

By my readers, years after I have been read.

Not as something emulating or imitating old masters

But as someone filling a void in literature that might

For as long as there are letters,

Never be filled again.

Our Missuses

It amazes me how something

Finds its niche

And gets misused.

How YouTube could be the premier site of an education

But it gets used so stupidly.


I think of WordPress.

It could be used for so much more.

I think of Poetry.

It could be used for so much more.

I think of Novels and Science.

It could be used for so much more.

But, it finds its popular niche,

It finds its populous milieu,

And that is what it is known for.

WordPress for journaling.

Poetry for confessionals.

Novels for entertainment.

Science for blasphemy.


WordPress could be used to share cutting edge ideas.

Poetry could be used to share important truths.

Novels could be used to teach us how to live.

Science could be used to end famines.


I suppose there is nothing to offer.

Our moral education is in the Bible.

Summed up, there is nothing new to discover.

Science blatantly contradicts morals

So every discovery must break down our belief in good.

Why then is it a problem that these innovations get used

So poorly?

Maybe I am just a mouse turd in the peppercorn.

Or, maybe, I need to convince you to read your Bibles…

Because there are answers in Genesis,

But it’s more important we understand the story’s moral

Rather than the story’s literal application.

Who knows what Science will learn 1,000 years from now?

I don’t, which is why I find satisfaction in the Bible’s

Moral suppositions.

They work. They predict society.

They even help you live with a clear conscience

If you’re paying attention.

Whether there really was a Garden of Eden,

Let’s live like there were.

That way we understand the story is about

Growing up, and discovering what it is to have sinned.

What Hurts the Most is Seeing the Thing You Want

What hurts the most is seeing the thing you want

And not feeling like the moment to grab it is at hand.

Some strange distance is between us…

The girl at the ____________ register


Sure, I can talk to her about Yawning.

I can tell her about my theories on time.

What becomes difficult, however,

Is working up the nerve to flirt.

I don’t want to

Because the situation is wildly inappropriate.

I don’t like flirting.

I want a steady conversation.


As a youth, there were those I played with

And it just clicked.

Rare were those encounters,

Where I just clicked with someone else.

The play was fun…

They got me, I got them.

There was an ease of knowing them

Like I had known them my entire life.

All sincerely cliche lines,

But we still all know the feeling.

Precious it is, it’s how I met all of my best friends.


Why one of them wasn’t a woman;

There’s always been a strange fear of them for me.

A fear of obtaining them;—

I have that fear of getting to close to them

On the chance that they would find out what I was really like

And walk away.


But on rare moments, I could be just myself

And similarly find myself at ease with them.

I suppose I want conversation more than anything.

I want agreement, even if I’m dead wrong.

I want resistance on moral truths;—

Not intellectual ones.

I feel there is a strange chasm between me and the woman at the ____________.

Perhaps if we met at the book store.

Perhaps if we met anywhere but there.

But then again, I am quite unimpressive.


A woman wrote a poem about Echo and Narcissus.

I felt like Narcissus.

Perhaps I am becoming him…

However, I don’t like peering into the mirror

To look at myself. I am hideous.

Rather, I have been taught to love myself by therapy…

I would like the _____________ employee to unlearn me

Of all those tricks.


Therapy seems to colden and deaden you to the harsh realities of life.

It seems to put up walls,

It says, “Don’t trust anyone.”

And soon enough, you live, can wipe your own ass,

Can eat and live off of work.

Just, something is missing in life,

The more important part.

But I have the pressure of family

Telling me all life is about wiping myself.

Wiping my mouth, my butt, putting soap on my hands

And cleaning out the nether regions.

As if that is the only joy of life.

That, and doing labor I am not willing to do

To serve a purposed end of what exactly?

Did I forfeit my happy life from two crimes in youth?

If so, maybe I don’t want to take care of myself

If this writing cannot earn me enough to win bread.


So… I twirl about two desires

Being an author and being in love.

I want to be an author for the purpose of wiping myself.

I want to be in love for the purpose of having something beside

Hygiene to live for.

If you could understand my families indoctrination,

Life is all about cologne, toilet paper,

And eating. Pleasures to be derived

From the excess of bodily functions and their expressions.

Of course, I became angry at one of them in particular

When they said, “Let the TV raise your kids.”

It had never been their philosophy of life…

One of the things I appreciated most was how they nurtured me

And cared about me when nobody else seemed to.

But, life is all about liquids.

It’s all about dopamine.

Meanwhile I stand quite helpless

Not wanting my life to resemble it.

The girl behind the ____________ counter could have fixed it…

But, truthfully, was there a chance at bonding?

None whatsoever.

She had a job to do.

I had a job to do.

Anything extraneous beyond that

Would get her in trouble.

As, that exact life is what I despise.

We could have been soul mates

And the de facto laws of business

Kept us apart.

Somewhere, I’m looking for a life

Where you just meet the girl in your tribe

And fall in love with her because you don’t know any better,

Marry her, and then grow up and have children.

You’re never taught to covet beauty,

So even when someone more beautiful arrives

It’s not this immediate lust and gravitation.

You simply don’t know any better because there is no sexual desire

Except for the one person you found it with…

That woman you met in your village.

Yet, there were old maids then, too.

So, I have no surmise,

Except to say that I didn’t want to flirt

Because I felt a boundary.

When I find the right woman

I want there to be no boundaries.

Rather, if she shows up at two AM,

Or I do, we’ll be none the callous for sleep.


In laymen’s terms

I want a friend I can have sex with.

I think that’s what everyone desires in a mate

As there is nothing else in this life worth obtaining.

Success, glory, honor,—

It seems too much like wiping myself.

Rather, when I’m old,

Maybe my desire is for there to still be someone left to wipe me.

I Don’t Think I Can Love

I don’t think I can love

Like I used to.

I’ve become jaded.

I would like someone to penetrate my walls.

I would like someone to peer into my heartache

And draw from it something choice.


But, there is some resistance in me.

I cannot, as it were,

Draw happiness from another person.

It’s impossible.

It does not come from the self, either.

Where does happiness come from?


I suppose it comes from a clean conscience,

Knowing we had not done wrong.

I cannot have that,

So I look for the palliative of a wife’s mouth

To sooth me, both with her kisses and her kind words.

We all desire to be loved.

Each of us.

It is why dogs make wonderful pets

Because we enjoy the enthusiasm of the animal

Always wanting to be near us.

Cats, too, that they are exclusive

And we do not have to feel jealous of our friends

When they come by.

Horses are great pets because they are bigger than us

And teach us to overcome our fear; we tame them

Who can easily overpower us.

So much trust is needed for a horse

That the animal can kill you at any moment

But you still overpower it with force of intellect.


The cattle skip in the field

The fish loaf about, happy to eat and be big.

The birds sing their melodies.

Animals are such a wonderful kine

To the human soul.

I would like to define kine

As family. It means “Cattle Herd”

But we, ourselves as a family,

Are like cattle that roam here and there

Following our families to hither and thither.

We are kine, and I would like to have a blessed kine

Of loved ones;—which gets me back to why I need a wife.

I want my little pack of children to run about

And keep me company until I am old.

I want a cat, a dog and a horse.

I want a wife who is loyal, loving and affectionate.

It’s amazing how this cliche want is in every dating profile.

Yet, how many of us are deserving of love?

I’ve thought back to my crimes in youth

And see myself committing felonies.

I say to myself, “It is this reason I do not deserve love,

“But could I please be forgiven for it

“As the gospel promises?”

The answer comes to me,

But in my heart is could be either “Yes” or “No.”

I lean more toward the “No”.

It is why I’m afraid.

Not of death, just of living.

Life scares me, as it is an impending obelisk of looming catastrophe.

I cannot get a reign on it

Because some force greater than my will does not let me.

Who that is, I cannot know.


So I wish for a wife, children,

What I see is obstacle after obstacle

Preventing me from obtaining my earthly award.

Which I say “Award” not “Reward”

Because it was not earned.

How can I earn anything with such depths of sin?

Hidden to myself, maybe?

I do not know.

If there is any sin hidden from my eyes

I cannot know, but I want to awaken from the possibility

And live in the reality that other men take for granted.

Not speculate on all my past crimes

That never were committed

Because of two flagrant ones in youth.


But, back to the meditation.

I want a wife. Plain and simple.

And I will get one. Either here

Or in the afterlife.