My clumsy words, they are mine.
You may see them, and compare them 
To my predecessors---
Wordsworth, Keats, Byron, Blake
Eliot, Pound, Stevens, 
Dickenson, Poe, Longfellow, Whitman,
Spencer, Milton, Shakespeare, Chaucer,
The heights of Beowulf,
The depths of Yeats,
Coleridge's luxury or Ferguson's wit
Seamus Heaney or Wendell Berry's or Robert Frost's earthy tones.
But I write them, and they are mine.

"Roses are red;
"Violets are violet;
"That’s called a tautology,
"So don’t go and riot."

But is it a tautology,
My dearest old friend?
Or is it actually equivocation
With it’s wind and its wend?

And more importantly do we know
That the violet is purple.
The logician’s an ass
Who is ever so hurtful.

For we look at most things
They are what they be;
So take Logic with salt
And pay the worker his fee.

The Roses and Spring breeze carry your scent like a forest,
The Veronica is blue upon the tourmaline lawn,
I love you, my dear beloved, my dearest,
So with this poem will I muse and I fawn.

Two owls woo each other in the Eve;
David and Goliath fight on the Western Horizon;
They call to one another, to find if they are mates.
The raptor's body flies off the pines
In a large flutter, as it sees me walking.

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Oh, how you beat me in every argument--
One who perfectly speaks the words 
Of an atheist, high and mighty.
I cannot account what God has done throughout history
Or what people have done in His name...
I can only tell you the good I've seen
And the good I haven't seen.
And I know you speak of long forgotten abuses
By a kingdom ruled by Byzantium
But, there is one thing that keeps me tethered to God...
It is that you are not a good person;
And your entire philosophy vanity and complete despair.
You speak of atheists who don't rape---
Maybe they don't, but maybe they do---
Rather, atheism is just this conglomerate of things
And opinions of there being no god
And religion has done all ill throughout the world.
I just know differently, that in the human animal
There lurks an absurd cruelty...
And the only thing I've ever seen take it out
Was not religion, but the Power of Almighty God.
I've seen shifting storms, and winds, and great cruelty abound;
I've seen great wars and great famines and great diseases
All done in no religion's name...
I see it all, and find it pointless.
Because at the end, you are not a good person
And neither am I.
In the end you cannot set all things right.
You find Atheists are moral, I do not.
I'm stunned by their disgusting habits.
You say religion has done disgusting things--
When in my lifetime has it; at least Christianity?
I saw it reign over hearts and minds
And turn people to ways that were more benevolent
And without it, I've seen culture shift more selfish and more self centered
And willing to abandon all  love, for the pursuit of pleasure.
And I see no good in this world
And if you tell me this is all there is,
I will hate you. With the very core fiber of my being.
Not with a violent hatred, wanting to wish you harm
But with a seething love and compassion
Knowing that if you do not wish to live for eternity---
For you only understand this world, and I agree eternity here would be hell---
You do not know the depths of love, you do not know the depths of love
As I do. For I could live on for eternity with God's peace, and that is why I believe.
And in that transcendental flame, I've seen good.
I've seen good, I've seen good, I've seen good;
Not only in myself, but in others.
I've seen a world with God, and a world without Him
And I say, the world hasn't gotten much better without Him.
No, it's only gotten worse. More selfish, more deceitful
And all the things done in the Middleages are done by washington beurucrats
Who don't believe in God one Iota
And I realize, it's just humanity in his simple nature
That causes such pain, as atheists do the same;
It is not religion that removes that from our heart.
No... it is God. And God alone...
The same God who's spoken to me through my Bible
The same God who's healed the blind and deaf
The same God who's raised from the dead
The same God who's turned rivers to blood
And the same God who cast away the child who did great evil, and caused great suffering; 
And turned his eyes black as the pit of coal. 
The same God who gave me the milk of His word, and the wine of His joy
The same God who has defended me through and through.
You make convincing arguments, for a dead philosopher's God,
But the God I worship is alive.
He breathes, and fills, He keeps.
And I do not wish to be the evil man I once was;
And only God can stop that.
And maybe that shows a weakness in me...
But I don't doubt you'd find that same weakness in many others.
Men who hate God, and say they don't rape because they don't want to...
Men who say they don't murder because they don't want to...
We'll see what men do without God...
And I already see its shocking effect on the world, and the depths of sorrow and despair.
For, why do I believe? 
It's because of God's forgiveness.
And then the power to be a better man.
And, this world's sorrows, which are infinite, which as a man who's made errors in my life
I do not wish this world to be my only home.
And that may be weakness, but I think it is actually the greatest strength a man can have.

We were both young and dumb
And I had a lot to say.
You hung on my every word
And did question me a bit.
I told you I had an IQ of 130---
It was actually 157---
But it was pleasantest conversation
And I thank you for your friendship.
You told me I should be a poet.
So, Margarita pizzas weren't first made in Harrisburg...
Looks like I fell for a bit of false advertising, but it happens
Especially at 21.

Such fear and panic, that the brood
Was so large, it was in Central Pennsylvania.
There were two broods that year, in the East and South.
Just like this year, 2024---hey, I might even be graced by them.
I see man, in such a light, now realizing their short memories
And poor intellect, fearful of an Eclipse and terrified of Cicadas in the same year.
To me, it's like striking the hour at noon, where the big and little hand meet together.
But there is this weird milieu, where people spread strange omens
About things that are as natural as a cataract or as wholesome as a bride adorned for her husband.
Yet, strangely, they whisper, like some great thing were happening
And it couldn't have been predicted 3000 years ago.
It could have, actually... that's what they don't understand.
But still, like squirrels gone nuts in the forest,
They must scramble, and dig, and take cover and shelter
From a nonexistent storm.
Where was the terror, o Israel? There was none.
Yet, strange omens, and prophecies, and divinations---
I'd be far more frightened if I didn't see them.

Speaking with you, I've learned a few things.
You wish to have it all, but aren't wiling to give it.
You wish to be sexual, and make love
But only if you want it, but not your partner.
You think marriage is unsafe and affaire de coeurs are.
You'd rather go to where you will have nothing but
A little tickle on your citreous, than have actual love.
If you do have love, it's hidden and gate kept by you, and always 
Like a faucet, which you turn on and can also shut off at will.
You believe all family conflict is abuse, and that any inconvenience
Is a reason to leave a relationship---for you said relationships are about your happiness only.
You believe monogamy doesn't exist, and that people are destined to be like feral cats
Chasing one another in the streets.
Everything in your life is about chemicals, like a drug, but not anyone else's.
You're a major disappointment.
And probably the reason no one could find love or happiness for a while.

Take the instruments of a foolish shepherd.
Do not visit the weak; do not heal the broken;
Do not seek out the young; do not feed the one that stande'th still.
Have war in your hand and eye;
Darken your eyes, have a slack hand.
Eat the fat of the flock, and tear their claws so they can do nothing.
You are like Death.