Karmelo Anthony

He needs help. I was just praying for him to find Jesus, but you're right. He does need a life sentence. Maybe even the death penalty. I mean, Moses murdered an Egyptian, and David Bathsheba's Husband, and Paul murdered a lot of saints before he met Christ on the road to Damascus. There is redemption for a murderer. But, there needs to be consequences. What he did was beyond the scope of reasonable. I think he's a perfectly sane individual, too, and there needs to be some manner of consequence for this heinous crime. If in a State with no death penalty, then life without parole.

Moses' consequence was he had to wander with the Israelites, and never entered into Canaan.

David's consequence was constant war and strife at his borders.

Paul's consequence was imprisonment by the Roman emporium.

There's no need to feel a weight of guilt on you, for having sinned--as that Christ lifts off our shoulders--but there do need to be consequences for actions. Mercy shown where mercy needs to be shown, but he showed no such mercy to his victim, and doesn't seem to be that much bothered by it. Should he be bothered by it, and his conscience overwhelmed by the guilt, God will endear his heart toward salvation, and that is about all that can be done here.

The Meaning of My Work

My meaning is the pursuit of joy, 
As nobody's going to allow you to have it, 
If things continue down this path. 
They're ripping it all away through the culture. 
And my work is about fighting to keep it.

The Sin of the Time

Oh, how I fell to the Sin of the Time!
It was there, so present, and none would
Render a recompense for its evil!
Until my tender heart said, "No more!"
And I was laid to burden under a heavy yoke.
There, my soul was crushed by Presbyterian preachers
And there my soul was surrounded by bloody men.
And out I came, and suffered under the yoke of Babylon
And then Satan whispered Sin into my ear;
So I will say, "'twas me."
I blasphemed in my heart and soul
And I committed a miserable offense against myself;
But, I still honor you Jesus
Lest you shake me off like a wasp
And smash me against the bricks.
You, only You know how to destroy me so utterly.
Yet, Bunyan and many other martyrs had the same
Whispers of Satan in their ears,
As Christian was beaten at Doubting Castle.
Let prosper me, and my soul...
For I am helpless my LORD, against it.

The Old Don

Twenty-six at most, the Old Don sonorously
Expounds upon T. S. Eliot.
Parts of an older world, a better world,
Which I am a part of also.
And Eliot, the harbinger of the new one
Where our ways are already obsolete.

The Revolution Suite

Maria, stand firm
And raise your banners so high!
Liberty, stand in
New York Harbor, Green with age
And torched guide for Patriots.

George Floyd was killed for selling cigarettes
Outside of a store, and the nations raged;
Black fought White, White fought Black, understand 'twas
A distraction, to usher in the Sith's
Two sides, where both would war and Sauron's Arms
Would cause Orcs to fight their Oraikai.
Thus, Trade Federations and Republics
Would war for Roman Hight, and Salute wide.

Thus strum your drums and raise your flags
Old King Cole shall come at last
That Uncle Sam who made us so dumb
Will make hearts shine and fast
Will come the great strong lords to their wars
To quell rebellion upon their shores
For at last That Hideous Strength is seen
To play our prejudices against our needs.
And Arthur, come to Pevensey
And take your shores from Mordred's glee;
Old King Cole, Arthur, Uncle Sam
You are a Spirit and are not a Man
Of Freedoms won for the West
Be not stopped by Albion's Cliffs.

Then Alex Jones lost a Lawsuit
And worse was put our won freedoms.
During the riots, bad men loot
And Trump and Biden preyed on them.
For Trump no criticism could
Be made, for he had skin as soft
As felt, and would not do as should;
He turned men to believe so oft
The conspiracies tattled, t'would
The land be confused, and so wrong.
The constellations were new, yet
None would see, for they did forget
To look up in the bright heavens,
Annoyed by their televisions.

So rock the way and know no more anew
The things of God would be there made to prove
That no revival struck the land, but that
Misery, great revival, it was built
Only on our America's great greed.
For conservatives made the Left destroy
Electric cars, and advertising for
Elon was, the Left's dumb outlandish stars.
For right was wrong, and wrong was right all 'twere
Reversed, the Daffy Ducks and Loony Tunes
All had figured out the curse.
Thus old Nursery Rhymes and King Cole's pleasant
Safety we did now protest,
For we wanted what America were,
And what was always the best.

A Roman Salute I make to one;
Christ, God’s only Begotten Son.

*Notes on Making this Suite

I had a moment of lucid imagination, of all good philosophies converging to the truth, and raising their banners in the air, ready to meet an invading army. Taking all the United States' and English Symbolism, and combining them into a potent soup to win a Revolution. What was that Revolution? Against all the bad ideas of modernity, converging into a singular point, which is totalitarian control over our thoughts and resources. Then, as would happen, Quora suggested a prompt almost immediately after, which couldn't have been timed any better. It said, "Write a Suite Which Will Touch the Hearts of Many." I looked up "Suite" in Poetry, and found it to be using multiple forms. So, I did.

The First Stanza is a Tanka;
The Second Blank Verse Pentameter;
The Third a modified Sonnet Form in Tetrameter;
The Fourth a modified Ballad Form;
The Fifth a mock Iambic Pentameter and an Invented Form;
The Sixth an Aphorism.

George Floyd’s crime, was selling cigarettes outside of a store. He was not committing a crime. I hate BLM and everything it stands for–save what the founder had envisioned–but let’s keep our facts straight.

Intelletto


intelletto
/in·tel·lèt·to/
sostantivo maschile
1.
La facoltà di istituire rapporti ideali di ordine spec. razionale: le passioni velano l'i; un i. forte; perdere l'i; nella dottrina cattolica, uno dei sette doni dello Spirito Santo; com., la capacità d'intendere e volere, intelligenza.
"vigoroso i."
2.
La persona umana, in quanto dotata d'intelligenza o di singolari virtù spirituali.
"un grande i."

An Article About Michelangelo’s Faith

https://kingdomwinds.com/michelangelos-spiritual-life/

The White Nigger

I peel grapes for him
And am angry at him
A rich man with a stick
Who beats me 
Metaphorically speaking
So I curse him
In the forest.
Then, Steve arrives
And embarrassed and ashamed
I bow down to the forest floor
Knowing I am a nigger.
But a good thing for it to be---
For I am free, and perfectly
Fine commiserating with the lot.
I'd rather be the poor nigger with white skin
Set free like Aesop was
Than the Rich Black Man with no soul.
Yet even then, I was never made a slave.

When Christ Returns

Hazy are the clouds, like a nuclear winter
In the spring day, a yellow hue is on the horizon.
I walk in the brisk fifty degrees,
Up the familiar path, and am surprised
By the forest walking over yonder the hill...
I say to it, "The bees, they are coming out of their holes"
For only one or three days of the year
Do the bees peak out, and over the hillocks 
Fly in their immature bodies.
I am surprised by the sudden meeting and hazy
As the sky above, for so it will be like when Christ and I meet
Surprised, and suddenly, and without warning.
I'd rather be looking at the bees, than gesticulating
At my enemies around me, wishing to curse and cause a stir;
Or beating Christ's fellow servants
When I am surprised by that chance meeting
And then the haze lifts, and the sun becomes seven times brighter:
Yes, I'd rather not know what to say, and be studying the bees.
I do not wish to be a chicken aside the road,
And scared to approach Him, knowing I'd been doing wrong;
For the Bluebells are immature,
And the Hyacinth are half strong, and half growing
For another week there shall be bluebells like clockwork:---
We do not know the time or hour, and it may be when everything
Seems untimely and half in bloom, and surprise you as the sun did me
When it burst from its haze, and shone today
As I ate, and there seemed to be Zion, which seemed
Impossible to reach, and its heavenly songs
Yet I will feast there upon the sweet nectar
And the Meat of the Fruit of Life---
It will have seemed like it could never be done
And it, too, seem so very early, and unexpected;
Yet there it is.