Category: Uncategorized

Good and Bad

I’ve found a little metaphor in Termites and Penguins.

 

Termites are like good people, and good civilization.

They have ordered societies,

They mate for life,

They rear their young,

They produce impressive feats,

They clean up the excess

And they make use of what people think are useless.

Most people look at them

And say, “They’re a worthless

“And destructive insect.”

Because they eat floorboards and stuff…

It’s not a perfect metaphor, people.

But even in that, without them

The forest wouldn’t decompose its foliage

For the next batch of trees to put forth their saplings.

They, all day, work and are content.

They have strong communities.

 

Penguins are like bad people.

They kill one another,

They eat one another,

They will rape one another

They are homosexual,

They will have sex with the dead.

They live in a barren land.

Are good for really nothing,

Except to be eaten by walruses.

They don’t build.

They just kind of stand there all day

Jumping into the water

Consuming huge amounts of resources;

They are violent,

Tempermental,

Will kill their young,

Will steal one another’s babies,

And everyone loves them

Because they don’t know the half of what happens

In penguin civilization.

But, unlike penguins

Because the metaphor is not perfect,

They don’t do anything truly wrong.

They just kind of sit and do what they’re supposed to do

Because they are good,

And they are the time and season for it.

Why the FCC Will Regulate the Internet

As a business owner

If I express speech

That offends the

Heart, it is not

The right of Paul

To steal my voice.

 

HAM radio is

Licensed because

As a passeryonder told me

“It could interfere

“With Planes and

“Electronics.”

 

The Internet

Of course

Is a place of

Volatile speech

Which will

ALWAYS OFFEND!

Therefore, because of

This, citizens interfere

With one another’s rights.

 

Theft, Identities stolen,

Illicit Crime,

Porn Bombs,

Frames for crime,

Dark Web.

The internet

Will have to

Be protected

To allow

Business like mine

To continue.

 

Not because

Of vain or

Offensive speech. No.

Because of

Crime.

 

To go forward

We will probably

Have to purchase

Licenses to

Operate, like a

Car, since it

Is infrastructure

Necessary for

The modern day.

 

Freedom of

Speech is what we communicate

Through writing

And speech.

It is not,

Like HAM radio,

A right of the people.

Like medication is prescribed,

I think this is

A good analogy.

Because of the

Harm drug

Addiction has

On a society

Worse, is the

Man who can

Thwart public

Transit, hinder

Economic freedom,

 

And if not

Clear, we need

Paper, too…

It’s better

To pay bills

By mail

Than by Email.

 

The commerce

Needs to

Be protected

Personal property,

Privacy,

9th Amendment,

And most of all

Our interpersonal

Relationships.

Which is why

An issued handle

Will probably be necessary for

The internet.

If people

Are to have

Any wealth connected

To it, it needs done.

 

And, people should,

No, must be able to live

Life, if they chose,

Without it.

The Law is Israel’s Protection

The law is Israel’s magic.

To know there is no power in infant bones

But in hate and murder

There is the power to steal and kill.

The law is our protection against this

To know such is evil

And will be recompensed.

To be execute judgment

On the ones desolate in the wilderness.

To bring them to nothing.

 

Those of us who are overthrown by the law

Know that there is grace

To cover our sins.

To overthrow our sins

And cast it into the sea so there is always hope.

 

Though our portions lie underneath the rocks

The LORD can create sons and daughters from even the rocks.

There is all power with the LORD to overthrow Sodom

And to level cities, and to roar in the thunders.

The LORD’s power is in the sentence to execute judgment against the sinner.

Not our hands, for we are not the ones who execute judgment.

We are little bunnies in the field

Knowing it is the LORD who causes all things,

And the lightnings.

To bring peace in the silent thunders to Israel

When he is afraid, and to see the lightnings cast forth.

 

The LORD is our shepherd

And He guards Israel.

The Muse of the Arabica

Scrolling through the poems

O’ the poems,

The muse of the Arabica—

Yet, how many the Robusta—

Is the laurel champion of the

Mind’s strongest conjurings.

 

Like some kind of spell

We poets weave the strong drink

To bless it like Dionysus,

The drunken wine of the gods;

Foul Cretans they are to juice our minds

With the spirits of the age…

 

O’ Arabica, thou muse…

Robusta! None sing of thy tart fame.

The elixir of the Pagan rights

To bless the bounty of the cup

Rather than the bounty of the provision

Of Jehovah-Jyra

For the muse and the laurel

Of the day.

 

The strong drink

Which drives the prophets mad

And the minstrels sing their songs of you…

O gods, goddesses,

Lamenting like the Titans

Lamenting like thee O’ devils

Whom Paradise lost,

The war of the gods overthrowing the Titans

Is an ancient story… ancient

Despotic,

Of the regimes of one set of kings

Who overthrew another.

These manipulators,

These men who suck the venom

Of the Asp of Dionysus’

Cup, of the venom of the strong elixir

Which men praise’th

The God of Drunkenness.

 

Foul the beasts by which the depths of dawn’s

Chariot’s—this is no allusion, but the image has been born before I know—

Strike to the root of thy coffers

Which ingrained within is the strong drink

Which drives the whole earth mad.

For if we just praise it…

All know it is the source of our stories.

Yet… the Titans, and soon to be the gods

Will be bound in the chains of misery…

O, Saturn, Prometheus, Hyperion,

O Jove, Venus, and Hades…

Soon thy reign shall end—

And the true thunder of the God

The one who roars from the clouds of heaven

Like a Lion, in the storm which lit the sky like day does reign

And is goodly, the Spirits of which we should be drunk—

Those false gods shall be bound in those chains

Which you sought to place those whom thou ruled.

For one, I say one, has driven away the demon.

In moderation, the strength by habit causes no harm,

Yet in excess—which our story is about—

The strong drinks drives the prophets mad.

There Were Two Men

There were two men.

 

The first was a prophet.

The prophet, when he saw the wickedness of mankind

Would pray to the Father in heaven

And would accuse men of being wicked.

He would reprove for the sake of correction

And nothing he spoke was with intent to harm

But rather was with intent to increase faithfulness

Among the sons of men.

Never did he say, “You sin like thus,

“And, therefore, you are a worthless fellow.”

But rather, “The whole sins like thus,

“And your sins will condemn you.

“Not that I have never sinned,

“But that you are sinning right now,

“And I am concerned for your well being.”

When men heard this,

They felt sore vexed

Because it seemed like the Prophet was accusing

Them right to their face.

But it was rather the whole who the prophet accused;

And men stood up in judgment against this prophet

To say, “He is more wicked in his judgments

“Then we are in our murders and thefts!”

 

The second man was a judge.

He would see of men, “They are righteous,

“And they are, for the whole part, better than this man.”

But, when he saw a man’s sins,

He would say, “This man is incredibly wicked.

“This man, I have seen him be wicked

“I have seen his sins,

“Because I have made a diligent search for them.

“I will not depart from him

“Until I am justified in myself

“That I have found error in him.”

This man, all men loved

Because he had accused the righteous

And had encouraged the wicked to sin

By justifying them, and by making himself justified in their eyes.

Wherever he was, he made sure he was justified in their eyes

And that the truth, even, was abominable in the sights of men

Because he would rather be justified in his position

And not the truth; and once he found sin

He went home and said, “I know I am righteous

“And this other man is a sinner more than I.

“For, the prophets are judgmental,

“And I am humble and give grace to the sinner.”

 

Which man will stand in judgment?

Who is the hypocrite?

The Heath o’ the Dells

To the heath in the dell,

Scattered are thy thoughts…

Could it be?

 

Yes, African heath…

Though it is not I who you married.

It is not I whose children you bore.

Oh, I do not speak to the Laurel,

Or Belial…

No, I do not speak to Exalted Mother…

Nor do I speak to the Man’s Victory,

Nor to the Shores of the Dells,

Nor to the Saint blown aft a coast in the wind.

No, heath of the dell, I speak to you,

African Heath, the planes of the Serengeti,

You have found me once again.

I am sure the princes and the kings

Have hidden me…

I am hidden from you.

 

Forgive me Sierra, for not pursuing you.

I have seen you;—

But understand I cannot pursue you.

I have seen who you courted.

It was not me.

Twice you were made consort to kings…

I am not a king.

My name means Prince Crown New

But I am neither crowned, nor a prince.

A Broom Tree which made acquaintance…

And the acquaintance was not made.

 

Why I Believe in God

A friend of mine recently said to me,

“What if heaven is so terrible,

“That you wouldn’t possibly want to go there?”

I thought of my poem describing my idea of what heaven is.

I thought to myself, “Me, in my paltry understanding,

“Can create this place.

“But why did God create the earth?

“It seems so bad.”

I then consider how much I want.

Love. Sex. Good, pleasurable food. Family. Raising a family.

Enjoyment from work.

I look at this earth, and I am impressed by how

Heavenly it could be, if everyone behaved in a decent way.

I then look around, and I see people cause most of the suffering.

I think, “Why wouldn’t God come right now and stop all of this?”

Then I think of my future wife, how we’ll have sex

Marry, have children, cook five star dishes,

An enjoy. I look at what prevents me.

Human corruption.

So, I again ask, “Why doesn’t God stop this suffering?”

Then I think of my future lover’s gentle loves

Eating and working to provide for my family.

Then I wonder why I suffer. It is men.

“Why doesn’t God stop all of this right now?”

Again, I think of the nudity of my future spouse,

The fusing of our genes into human beings

By the most delicious of God’s creation here on the earth.

How I can work, feed them, eat from that work.

Why is there suffering?

Because people are unsatisfied with this.

I’m not, but I see everyone trying to prevent

Everyone else from obtaining this dream.

“Why doesn’t God come right now?”

Because there is a chance I can make love

Feel the pleasure of a family.

 

Round and round this cycle goes

Until I die, and if I have not reached this goal,

I say, “What was my life worth?”

And then God takes me to a paradise

That if it is better than this earth,

I think of the paradise of this earth

And how paradisaical it is.

That’s why I believe in God

Because there is so much good here.

And I know heaven will be great

Because this is the flawed of God’s creation…

It’s flawed because of us.

In heaven, there will be no more of “Us”

And our sin. Which means we’ll have pleasures uncountable.

Because a life with no meaning steals from all men

This meaning I have found…

Men cannot reach the meaning without God.

That is good enough for me to believe in Him.

Because I know without it, men will only have reason to make other men suffer.

With a meaning, we’ll have every reason to make men suffer less

And knowing that men do suffer, and that this earth is filled

With such sublime pleasures,

I know there is a God, and I know heaven will be greater.

A Regea song

Preacher man don’t tell me

Heaven is on the earth.

Preacher man don’t tell me

Suffering is all we’re worth.

Because when you go digging for all that gold

I know eternal life on earth gets old

So don’t tell me things I know are cold.

 

Great Rasta you smoke your dope

Say getting high is for good folk…

Well I tell you all this song

It’s stupid to find meaning in your bong.

 

Because I see you corrupt as hell

Singing songs to the broken man

With all  of the lies you tell.

Saying, “Heaven is a place on earth,”

While billions live and die in crusted dearth.

 

Preacher man you ain’t off the hook.

You use religion and say, “O no, don’t look.”

You are the best magician’s wand

Waving hands say’n, “O, my dear God,”

While you see the people grow old and poor.

You say, “God wants me to have some more.”

 

So get up stand up,

Stand up for your right.

Get up stand up,

Don’t give up the fight.

 

I’m sick’ and tired of your liv’n, giv’n games

Saying, “Don’t live to go to heaven in Jesus’ name.”

Don’t give up the fight

Stand up for your right.

 

I see a world we all must bear

For years on end and that’s why I care,

Don’t give up the fight.

Stand up for your right,