1. My Beauty

My beautiful one...
I shamed you like Judah did.
I am so sorry.
An unwise man who found you
Now a little less unwise
Says, "Come seek me, my peach, and we shall have true joy."

You are silent, but
Are a woman of actions
And not words. I know.

2. The Train

Jesus with the dynamite
Down the tracks,
The train is burning;
Don't turn back!
Nacozari is six miles away
Don't, oh don't, Jesus, put on the brakes!
You saved my whole town
Like Casey Jones, have some renown.

3. Herod's Temple

The temple under construction by Herod---
It need be destroyed by Roman might;
For it was not good being built by him.
For now I understand the political climate---
A gentile made the Temple great
For the greatness of his kingdom.
And the Jews loved it, but God hated it.
How it is, that that Ruler King of Tyre
Sealeth up the Sum, and seals the temple
Yet it is unlawful, and must be toppled down
By the very villains who raised it.

4. A Dog

A Dog humps what it wants,
A Dog growls,
A Dog rolls in gross things,
It eats the dead,
It sodomizes its friends,
It is libertine and carefree,
It returns to its vomit,
It is noisy,
It hunts and scavenges in packs
And it tears to pieces,
And is ravenous for food:
It is self pleasing.

5. Robert Burns

Cheerfully you sing your songs
A Scottish man, who did no wrong.
You sung of the working class
And nature's cruelty to the last
Measure of the broken bone---
Drunk men, poor men, some w'have no homes.

6. Sister Aimee

The cotton seed is a spoiler of the fabric,
The block seeps over with the blood of its victims...
The parrots all say the same thing---

Great is the wealth of metaphor
Found in nature; in human politics.
The bur stings the bare foot of a traveller...

A wise woman indeed art thou...
And wieldy with your metaphors.
A first rate poet, who made me think.

7. America is Fallen

Spies police free speech.
Citizens sue over disagreement.
Books are censored by the lay.
Insurance agents and corporations pry into every single thing we say and do.
The Middle Class is so poor.
Welfare is attacked.
The Christian Religion is persecuted.
LGBT and DEI and Nazis and Radicals comprise 40% of the population.
People have no love.
Broadcasters cannot speak what they really mean.
Journalists cannot report on the news.
Owning guns are our only right; guns and to get screwed.
Intelligent people are told to shut up.
People have no rest.

As I said, America could exist for a 1000 years in name.
But it is fallen.

8. The Crisis of the Third Century

Rome warred, and split into three.
War, many emperors, many assassinations.
Sacked by Goths and Vandals, and Juthungi.
Then, that great Persecutor Diocletian
United the Kingdom, and then divided it
Between East and West.
And then Constantine took control
Of all, and issued the Edict of Milan
Making Christianity Legal,
And commissioned the council of Nicea.

9. Glory

Oh, Glory, the Romans fought for you---
To conquer, to keep peace, to the public prove
That great conquest, for pleasures of the soul
To conquer body, mind and spirit
For the Laurel Crown of Gold.

Oh, Christian, oh Christian, do not be deceived;
We run the race not for conquering, but for the crown of peace.
Not for the world, or for the slave, or for the public good;
No, just for the Eternal blessing of a City that we should
Enter into, for no other reward. That is why we would.

10. Julian the Apostate

You fight your Cold Wars with Constantius II;
You march through, and gain the world
Through his timely death.
Then, you initiate the Circuses;
But, you die, and the kingdom returns
Quietly to Christianity.
I see the enthusiasm for Greek Religion waned;
It was dying in the world,
And today Grecia lifts up against Judea.
Just like it did with you, Julian.
A type of the End Days,
Where Grecia lifts its standard against Christendom,
And tries to reinstate its religion once again.
Yet, Christianity creates a more heartfelt peace;
Not Agreement and Fun
But Peace and Joy.

11. Four Lines, Three Stanzas

I am nothing…
A vapor, here now, and gone the next.

I understood one thing was worthy in life, which was

Joy, Peace, and Love. Kindness, Gentleness, and Patience. Self Control, Faithfulness, and Goodness.

12. Proverbs of the Wise Man

By not teaching a lesson, the person who learned a lesson, doesn’t need the wise man telling them, “See I told you so.”

If it’s preventative, the wise man foresees the danger, and takes the proper precautions in himself, and by that example, teaches the lesson in others.

If the wise man were a fool, he makes an example out of himself before anyone else can.

If the wise man thinks he’s a wise man, then he is not wise.

If the wise man thinks he is a fool, then he seeks out his own folly, and tries to fix it.

If the wise man sees he is acting poorly, he seeks to work it out of himself.

The wise man, also, is taught lessons. That’s the most important thing about the wise man. You're teaching him, he’s not teaching you.

13. I Left a Rose

I walked to your beige grave, and wept.
Where my peace had once been well kept
In your soul, where love made pleasant 
Time, your wealth of hugs a present.
I was startled by the silence
There, where I had made a seance  
Of memories, where you loomed strong
In my mind, and I sang church songs.
My grandmother, I placed a rose
By your casket, which I pallbeared
And I knew your love was a home
And there I  had left a small share
And a  peppermint which showed love
Striped red and white, and wear a tear.

14. The Spy

Spies lie, and tell you blatant falsehoods.
They show pictures of a holocaust,
A woman smiling gleefully with the bodies
Stacked up,
And a huge thumbs up.
They are clearly dead, yet he says, "Only one prisoner died.
"They are not dead."
There were no republicans arrested under Biden,
And nobody is being arrested in the UK, either,
For speaking.

15. The Ode of Trump

None did know, oh black sun,
The sackcloth and ashes that would be won.
Across the Potomac, like the Rubicon
Came 400 soldiers, of American sons.
They broke the law, for law was moot;
The only glory was to be fat, not the lute.
Sing oh harp, of American fame…
The poet who some said had no shame.
For his crimes were there for all to see,
As Trump came down with heavy handed liberty.
Bodies stacked high, as the woman gave thumbs,
Democrats persecuting Republicans.
Then came Trump, like a bolt from the sky
He persecuted all that were ever wise.
Who comes next, it is Washington’s curse
Of what happens when we put party first.

16. The Smell of Death in the Valleys

The smell of death's stink
Lingered over the valleys.
I thought it was trash.
It was not. It's everywhere.
Name the specter, will it rid?

17. The Preacher

Seeing his friend poor
The Preacher screamed to his flock,
"God does not put food 
"On the table; that is why
"You must give!" I blushed at that.

God will provide what is needed  for life.
For the Sparrow's valuable, but I am
More valuable than many good sparrows.
The lily is clothed in soft raiment, too...
I shall be clothed and feed, and full of joy.
I may not be rich, but will feed on the
Manna from Heaven. I know... I have seen.

But the preacher is right, that most times we
Are the instrument by which He brings gifts.
His friend writes this short poem you see right here.
Yet in my dreams I was the preacher... say
"Let it never be!" LORD, provide for my stolen bread!
Why is his friend poor? Why does death preach so?
It is because he knows he is too cruel,

And has great power 
And authority to steal.
For food is his God.

18. Roman Persecutions

More evidence has been destroyed by the Catholic Church
Than any other group in history.
We'd know for certain Jesus were the Son of God,
Had they not systematically waved their shroud
Over all of it, even going so far as to destroy
The ancient Gospels of the Nasranis
Which, the Portuguese found 
And then burned,
When they found heretics in India,
Who existed there long before the Catholic Church.
Who knows what treasures were lost?

19. The Mental Crypt

We, the hurt, and heartbroken, up
The screes and dells we climb; hale we
Thole, and tholing long, we wear our
Bangles of grief upon our wrist
And wronged, sit in horrid swelter
Of knells to hope and horrid doom.
For we are haled by the world;
It grieved our souls to many tears,
For we have seen things no one should.
We’ve seen kith who once our very
Souls, hate our bitter guts. We’ve seen
Kin in many harmful ways, turn
Us for the worst in every word.
We climb up the screes, over cwm
And cromlechs of our dashèd hopes
Where the welkin above is grey
Yet do not try to scorch our hope.
It’s all we have—so treat us well.

20. Happy Accident

Hale I thought meant to be sick,
For I had glossed over it in my mind;
Yet a healthy body it would seem,
I going over it now would find.
Yet, the poem a happy accident
I found it to be true,
Said something more profound
Than what I could say in lieu.

21.

Money I do not want...
Just to be compensated
So I can give to the poor.
A small sum, to eat
And feed my fellow creature.
Yet, let me never be so rich
That I forget the LORD
Or so poor that I steal or blaspheme.
I write my books the way I know how;
Not to sell my soul and preach a word
To tell them what they want.
No, I remain in the truth.
If I live or die, I live or die.
But Christ, He is LORD.

©2025 B. K. Neifert
All Rights Reserved

The wisdom of the prince is airy---
It fades with every night.
Histories are forgotten
The wrong and the right.

Thus, like Paul I wonder
"All I know is Jesus Christ
"And Him Crucified,"
So I shall not hide my light.

Most beautiful woman
With perfect face and cleft bosom
White and exposed upon a red dress.
You sing a favorite song...
Have mercy on me, beauty,
For you are perfection in every sense.
Give us mercy, we men,
For you torture us with your gorgeous
Cleavage there, teasing as it were.
I had to turn away, and not look.

He wrote such exquisite verse;
Such exquisite prose;
Such exquisite stories.
Twelve Thousand pages;
Five Million Words.
He was dead, having little else.
His family rummaged through the work;
Dull they were, and no friends in sight.
They threw it in the trash.
All the boasts of being a man of history
Gone, the writer died,
And was forgotten by his brother's children.

Driving down the road,
Drinking nectar,
The flowers shown so beautifully.
I didn't know them
Or what species they were
And saw dozens I'd never seen.
Mystery, like in a good poem,
Or a good math problem,
Is good for the mind...
For familiarity breeds contempt.
Let it be unknown some things
And mysteries, and enjoy them
Where they are.