Category: Uncategorized

As a Child, Oft was I Wrong

As a child, oft was I wrong.
Kindhearted, filled with liquor
Of love and joy, I would speak
The things I felt were true.

Soon, tremendous attacks
Would aim their darts at me
And I would defend my halfwise
Positions. Yet, through right,
My peers were unkind in their
Rebukes of my ignorance.

Today I am just like them.
I rebuke my family, friends
With the curse of knowledge.
I ought to keep my mouth shut.

As, kindness is more right
Than the factoids of truth.
So a man thinks his folksy wisdom---
If it is his, it is his. Hers, it is hers.

Need I contradict the truth
Of another? For kindness' sake
I shan't. Unless that truth is sin.

However, I see in a man the rogue
Confusion of modernity...
The Congress passed a law
Forbidding lynching.
The Congress also passed a law
Distributing "Safe Pipes"
And "Safe Needles" To the poor.
They are not really giving out 
Crack pipes, they are just 
Distributing safer pipes
To smoke crack in.
Both these innocuous truths
Are true---each an elixir
For a certain man's ideology.
Each fuel for a culture war.

Shan't I sustain in the middle?
Shan't I simply see the enflamed
Tongues, and know that each
Of these men live within their vacuum?
Why need I add to it?
Both men are sufficiently convinced
By their truth. So convinced
That I, knowing the truth,
Need simply write it in poesy
And hope one day another
Will read it and understand the problem.
Everyone is filled to the brim with facts
Aimed at tearing down their opposition.

The truth is, it is unkind to correct someone
For their every faulty belief.
I should be focused on Christ and Christ alone. 
And beliefs are stronger than opinions---
Yet, everyone has conflated the two
For every opinion these days
Is as strong as a belief.
Therefore, there is no peace.

Romantic Naturalist

Heaven is a romance;
Align it with the soul
And life shall be good.
The flesh of man---
The naturalist in me---
Sees every failure
Underneath every 
Forbidden rock.
Pick up the rock---
As Cain had---and the earth itself
Becomes a stone.
Pleasant natural highs
Intonate the Romantic's
View on life.
Live in the high...

Yet, true love is found
In some who feel little.
So cruelty is found
In some with the opiate of infatuation.
Sobriety can make one right;
Pleasures can cause harm.

But, to know love...
To have felt it... or true joy
And have it snuffed out by one
Whose pain is caused by another's pleasure...
It tethers me to reality.
I understand it both ways.

The Naturalist is not evil;
Nor the Romantic good.
My virtue is not a warped portrait
Nor is it self medication.
I know the opium of love
That it is true.

Yet those who call it aught a drug
Are addicts who will shirk anyone to obtain a fix.

Tulsi Gabbard and Tucker Carlsen

These are two of our best and brightest. Good people with common sense. Not stupid. The media and some people in the government are hinting at throwing them in prison, because Tulsi reminded the American People Ukraine has Bio Labs---US Funded---and that war could compromise them. And Tucker repeated what she said.

I stand with free speech, and it's time that Americans stand up to their government and say "No" to this authoritarian move. We deserve to know these things, because who will suffer if this happens? All of us, like we did during Covid. We---being voters---have to know exactly what our officials are doing, and its time the government stop hiding secrets from us which we need to know in order to elect sound officials. As, the officials of our country are betraying us.

There is no reason anyone should be talking about sending anyone to prison for free speech. And I have half a notion to think if we knew the compromising position our government has placed the American people in, we'd be ashamed of them and vote them all out.

The U.S. needs to stay out of the Ukraine war. Let them fight their Iraq. Feed the Russian people the truth, like our media ought to have done for us. And frankly, those labs ought not have been there in the first place.

David’s Last Words

5 Although my house be not so with God; 
yet he hath made with me an everlasting covenant, 
ordered in all things, and sure: for this is all my salvation, 
and all my desire, although he make it not to grow.

The verse refers to David not being allowed to
Build the temple.
This is the correct sense.

Charles Spurgeon was wrong
In that he thought David was lamenting
His household not being ordered.

Modern Translators are wrong
By making David's words rejoice.

Spurgeon's sermon was beautiful, 
Though. All of God's servants had an "Although."
Solomon, although he transgressed through many wives.
Samuel, although he transgressed through appearing to the witch at Endor.
Paul, although he transgressed by murder.
Although, James and Peter transgressed by doubt.
Although Samson transgressed by Delilah.
Although Hezekiah went to battle.
Although Manasseh repented.
Although Uzziah tried to be priest and king.
Although I committed sins in my youth.

And David sings a melancholy verse
Of how his house was not in order.
He didn't get to establish the temple.
Yet, God established him.
In my life...

My dad Said Poet

I pressed my dad on
Whether I was a dreamer 
Or a poet. I
Know I sin in calling him
That, but Jesus meant

Not to make him or
Anyone a god. So I
Do not. 

                He said I
Was a poet. 


                     I look for
Auspicious tidings from God.

My dad's exact words
Were that, "I didn't write fluff,
But reality."

I have obtained my
Blessing. A poet is meant
To write poetry.

Byron

I listen closely to your advice---
And nare say you were no poet.
Heckling my peers in this current time
Will not win me the victory.
Naught will my work be sold for gold.
For what is gold, but empty?
Yet, for a fair wage will I be satisfied,
For even Leonardo was fed by patrons.

Endless torments and perpetual motion---
Conspiracies of Congress---
I know not.
Rather, of a subtle form of wisdome
Do I chew upon, like the ox or lamb---
Does Congress plot?
Do perpetual motions exist?
I know of the moon perpetually
Swinging around the Earth
Makes currents in the oceans.
I know Atoms forever spin their electrons.
Does Congress Plot?
I do not know---

You, with your mistakes, have
Done many ill reputed crimes---
I too.

A Satanic school of poetry
Cannot be attested to a prophetic voice---
Though, like Balaam, the prophets can err, too,
In heart and deed, but not in word.

Southey's verse is dull, 
Like a dry, tasteless wine---
I am generations removed
From him, and his work is rare.

Yet, Southey won Poet Laureate
Because his verse was what is enduring.
It reflected the novelists'
Who would later win your ancient hearts.

I, I am an Anachronism.
Bringing to the modern age
Wisdom it ought never forget.
Truths of Religion, truths of Science
Truths of Brotherhood.

To leave my work to posterity
Would be foolish---
For Southey was wise.
Was he not?
He saw the full fame and success
Of his poems, no sooner, and no later---
A man with an Elephant's memory
Who engineered verse laden with facts
Like a Courtroom's dry conversation.
Yet, he was beloved and read by many.
For that, I call him wise.

For you, living until you were thirty
Could not have lived more luxuriously
And for your politics was destroyed.
Democracy came to England---
And it left because of men like you.
Not men like me.

Excuses

As a child---
None want to remember this---
I had excuses for why
I didn't do my homework.

To know the real reason---
For look at me,
Don't I love to learn?---
Was because I was miserable
In my school environment
And didn't want to spend 
My hours of relief doing it.

Now, I have another excuse.
I do not want to be unhappy.
For, is that not the sad state of everyone
Working a career?
Sweating every day, 
In major loads of debt just to survive,
Working for someone who can fire them at
A given moment
Without loyalty,
Without just compensation,
Without fixed hours or rest?

It's not that I'm lazy---
I love to work.
It's just, I want my chance to forge
My own work for myself.
But everyone wishes me to never obtain it.

Why can't I be a writer?