Category: Uncategorized

Modern Stupid

It says:

Myth: Thomas Edison invented the light bulb.
Fact: Thomas Edison merely invented a way to keep it turned on.
Me: So, he invented the light bulb, because what use are they, if they don't stay turned on?

Myth: Lemmings commit mass suicide.
Fact: Lemmings don't commit suicide, they just explode in population, and end up dying on their migrations into oceans or over cliffs.
Me: Then lemmings commit suicide, because nobody's going to say a Rodent can have an existential crisis. What exactly are they doing, following each other to their deaths? And why do you think the metaphor works in the first place?

The Kind of Wife I Want

I want a wife who will walk with me through rain---
No metaphor is being made there, but to find pleasure
In the freedom of going out into a rainy day, 
Where there is no thunder, and get soaking wet
Through the raincoat.

I want a wife who will, in that perfect day in June,
Look for a Mayapple to bite, and pull the string
Out of the honeysuckle, and eat the little drop of nectar
And will eat mulberries over blackberries
And will seek out the wild strawberry and raspberry.

I want a wife who will have long talks about poetry
And philosophy, and religion, and science, and math
And art, and psychology, and sociology,
And gardening, and nature, and friendship won
Over the deep stuff... not the small talk.

I want a wife, who will play games with me
Whether it be Scrabble, or Chess, or Magic the Gathering
Or Pinochle, or Cribbage, or Rummy or Catan, or Risk
Or we will tell stories to each other, and daydream
Together of worlds far away.

I want a wife who makes love, and time for love
And wants me by her side at all hours:
She doesn't tire of me, and she doesn't talk down to me
And she doesn't baby me, or avoid me.
She is affectionate, and when I embrace her, she does not shrink back.

I want a wife who does these things,
And maybe I will climb the birch tree and fall down with it.
And maybe I will hook the horse up to plough
And maybe I will get strong and mighty
For I love her more than I love myself.

For that is what we all need, is a person we love more than ourselves.

My First Mayapple

The naturalist is not so,
Until he can determine
What scat belongs to what.
Or, in that perfect day
In May or June, look
Upon the plump Mandrake's
Fruit, and eat it after rubbing
It upon their shirt.
Only a seasoned naturalist
Can know the time
For all others are poisonous.
The plush juice, like a Granny Smith
Cucumber mixed with bug.

Lord Jehovah

Lord Jehovah-Jireh, Jesus Christ
I languished on my bed last night
Wondering whether I were in the fold.
I see so many believers, young and very old.
They cling to Bibles, without question
And like a sheep to shepherd drawn
The shepherd guides them and feeds them
And it left me in such wonder and awe.

Am I a goat, who must know the very law?
Or is a Goat one who feeds not the homeless
Or the widow visits or the orphan loves?
Or the prisoner he hates with passion
And the captive he does not seek?
And is it he who does these things, is he actually a sheep?

Or is a sheep a mindless drone, unquestioning about Paul's word?
That faith requires no works at all, and that is the leaven they have learned?
To simply believe, like a sheep, and chew on the cud?
Is a sheep one who does not question, or does not have any love?
They, their brethren, do so very judge
And all that's required is an idle word
"Jesus is LORD" my God
I cannot believe it... for you gave man creativity and a brain.
I think your law is brilliant, and it is extremely sane.
I must ruminate on it all day, the meditation of my heart
For Your law I love, and cherish, let Christ forgive me for being smart.

I do not understand the Christian worldview
Of unquestioned faith, and unparalleled grace
That would make immortal a holy prude.
For, maybe I sin by making my songs
But I think the vision was wrong.
I think it was my fleshly brain
For your kingdom I suffer long.

I sought you on my bed
And thought, "This is my God."
The one who lets me be what I am
And nurtures compassion and love.
The one who has a strong word to say
And condemns all sin in the flesh.
For by providence you make me walk
To what's my soul's true best.

Jesus Christ is the LORD.

My Commiseration with Atheists

I once had a night terror
I went to the Hotel California.
I saw my heaven petitions
And in that room I left
To find a curtain with a crowd
Of painted people---like in
A video game.
And they booed.
Above it was written,
"Brandon's Creativity."
I then was taken by a twisted ghoul into a prison
Down a cement corridor.

Today, I recall that dream
Listening to Fireworks
Conjuring that Isaiah 28
Is happening.

I then think about God,
That if He sent me
That dream, heaven will be
One apple tree,
Iron for wood, and Gold for Bronze
No heaven at all
But 1000 fruitless years
Spent on Earth, no Hephzibah
And that God hates art
And wants nobody to
Really think about what He's saying.

And if that god says, "Behold, you will know
"That I am God,"
I'll say, "Yes, and what a disappointment."

Luckily, that's not the real God of our universe.

On Biblical Slavery

Slavery in the Bible wasn’t immoral. The immoral thing would be not to have it, as many people are helpless without the right organization. It was a strategy to help keep people fed, so they couldn’t starve and was completely voluntary.

Not to mention they didn’t have heavy machinery or abundant moneys so they needed a way to do industrial scale work and compensate it fairly, and that was their way.

On Ms. Rachel

I don't know what to think about this. She seems like a very nice person... I mean, I probably feel the same way about [homosexuals]. I don't go around hating Gays or Trans people. I think LGBTQ is really messed up, and turning the world into a living nightmare---that's how we need to reach people, is that it's so obvious. But, we're never going to fix the brokenness of the world. It's just the way it is, and every generation is going to get worse and worse. That's been the progress for 6,000 years, until God moves, and resets it back into alignment. Which the next time that happens will be the tribulation.

I'd be careful judging her, to be honest. I think we need to be diligent to point out sin, because it is dangerous, but we shouldn't hate people. We need to rebuke out of love, and fear of God. Not out of a hatred for the people. As it's very dangerous, the LGBTQ. It's extremely dangerous. And we're only starting to see why. But personally, I thank God it is, because it's helped bring so many true converts to the faith, when you point out that this stuff is wrong, it no longer can be hidden or made excuse.

The World’s Romance

The world's romance are paramours
And love affaires---men's dispassion
And women making love with one
Who is not their husband.
It is the opposite of Odysseus's wife
Where the two, parted, make each their consorts
And loves luxuriously without one another.
My broken heart cannot bear it. 
Parted, no one loves or swells with joy
To see another, but rather stale misery
They meet their wives, and
"Misery me misery, I am not in love!"
Separately they live, and hollow was their marriage.
There is no friendship, no love in the bones
But cruel sex for childrearing
And the fruit of adultery's sting for joy.
I am not built for this world
But another it seems.
For all counsel me that this is how it must be.

A Forgotten Memory

In Byron's collection, marks a folded leaf
With the tally of a game I once played.
Whomever the people were, I know not
Only their first initials. The game, even
I know not, for there could be a couple
Which the scores would represent.
Was it Dad and Victoria? 
Was it Dad and Valerie? 
What even was the game?
Were it even someone I now know;
Maybe a forgotten person from my past
I met once, and never would meet again.
No game comes to mind, it is completely blank.
Eerie is this feeling, that some part of my life
Vanished, and how much of my life is documented
And I know not who, or what, or when, or how?