He wishes to exact upon all
Like a tyrant, his deigns and lordly
Influence. To make all scared
To speak out against his excellency
And to never speak a word against his concubine.

ababbcbC/ababbcbC/ababbcbC/bcbC

I write a poem a day, every day, some
Are good, and some are true, others are crude.
A year in poetry before you, from
My heart, my line, my verse, my ideas rude,
Forged in the fires of Crucibles true.
I hope upon one of my verse you stay
And muse a lifetime, and mine be your muse
That pass the wary days away, away.

I write a poem for you, yes you, not one
But many for one each to chew and sleuth.
A poem for one, a poem for all, the stone
I craft, my texture all like soundwaves' screw
They get loud, they get soft, they whisper nude
Which was warped by the world's wicked way
But I would, thus, die for the bull I shoot
That pass the wary days away, away.

Muse over my verse, and find aught what's shown
If it's nothing, or if it's some Thought's food?
Maybe I, a madman who speaks what's known,
Speaks a truth for all or truth for few,
So use the compendium for what's lude 
Or rather research my sayings oh so, so strange
All my metaphors hidden in plain view
That pass the wary days away, away.

Read my words, and read my truths
Read what I have had to say---
Hidden in my verse is proof
That pass the wary days away, away.

The atheist's unbelief
Comes from God's holy battles.
For, they see their unholy
Sins, and by God's wrath, rattled.

I go to the bookstore with him
Looking for a perfect gift.
It is for my baby cousins.
I have the perfect book laid out
A leather bound to build 
A library for future use.
He wanted to give them money
For a college fund.
Immediately he says no.
And then goes into the children's section
Which wouldn't be a problem
If there wasn't gender ideology
And LGB ideology hanging there
Like a minefield.
We got them Dr. Seuss.
But they already had Go Dog Go.

My friend, you try to get my goad...
You say, "AI makes art..." knowing
My prejudice against it. AI cannot.
For, like Hitler, the AI copies and pastes
Its formulae, so it is not true art.
But you, you are. I see your mother's face
In the contours of the statute you sketched;
Which could only be done by a human.
For, in the model's obviously european lines
You sketch your mother's African cheeks.
You even tell me why you think it is...
How it takes its poll and measures
The common lay's preferences.
That is not an artist.
That is a marketer. And a marketer is not an artist.
The person with PR skills, they can make
A fortune from dried dung or Rembrandt.
The man like me, unable to do so,
Can only go my way, and die in obscurity
Lest my LORD help me.
For obscurity is all I will obtain if my LORD
Does not bless me. But, at least I can say
I am an artist. And, I can also say, so are you.
Like Mr. Hoffer said,
The artist is content to create
And imbue Mimesis;
Like I told you, that is what makes a piece of art.
That your mother's face imprints on the statue
Like an Oedipal line---
That is what it is to create.

A saint sees his own
Sin, and takes it very harsh.
But, he does not see
The sin in those around him.
He covers them up when known.

A demon others'
Sin he sees, and takes it harsh.
But he does not see
The sin within his own heart.
By guilt, he hurls a stone.

I hate our modern age.
Yet I love our modern age.
A stodgy book is Lolita or Gravity's Rainbow
While the books with dust on their covers
Get blown off, and seen afresh.
There is nothing more exciting
Than seeing Austen venerated
And Dostoevsky, too.
The social milieu is repressed sexual urges
Manifesting in the castration and masectomation of our young.
For, they think they can pacify the primal urge
With a knife, hormones and sodomy.
They cannot erase the vesture of the past
For it is too strong an obelisk.
Austen becomes alien,
And so with her the Bible...
Jesus' Sermons become new all over again
As a generation who grew up in the Dogma
Of the Cult of Id find otherness to latch onto.
A whole new crop of thinkers are on the horizon...
Where Joyce and George R. R. Martin
Are the stodgy norm, glutted anarchy and feasts of semen
Those of us who want order
Are drawn to my favorite books.
The stodgy quo is the Aristocracy of Materialism and Postmodernism
While the Religious Avant Garde tell their riskee morals.
"Kill the cannibal society, that rapes children.
"Make slaves of the murderers.
"War has always been genocide
"There is no way around it...
"Yet, the Nazis needed cleansed of their racial impurity
"That of the Aryan caste, they needed to die."
And we are like Camus was seventy years ago,
Like Sartre and Freud.
On the en garde against silly philosophies that hurt and destroy
Our halcyon prosperity.
With words and not bullets we fight back...
Just like they did.
We are now persuasive
We are now the irritating troublemakers.
We are now... yes... we...
The ones' whose truth sets that chemical offense
Because it cannot be fended off by reason any longer.
For, by proof of reason, all we claimed would happen
Was true.

How the Native Americans
Would summate my belief is true---
It is what I believe, wholly.
Just like textbooks wholly show theirs.
Why do we shy away from Say?
As in to say, the textbooks ought
Not believe in Animism
And give a very clinical
Definition for their beliefs.
No... instead we are now so forced
To see it wholly from their view.
And that is what is being taught.
A perspective where we embrace
The beliefs of those we conquered
In order to then supplement
The religion we so obviously lack.

Robert Frost, when you write on gold's
Green, you write just like I have wrote.

Rumi, you write your Desire
For God: write just like I have wrote.

Hans Christian, so broken, you are 
Like me, writing like I have wrote.

Walt Whitman, when exalting our
Country, you write like I have wrote.

Emerson, your words on Word say
True writers write like I have wrote.

If A+B+C=AxBxC,
Then it is a triangle.

If A^2+B^2=C^2
It is a right triangle.

We must understand this about equalities.
Thereby,
If doing a proof,
And one has a formula
A+B
One cannot intuit from this
A+B=0
If in a geometric relation.
For the system of equations
Will define the parameter
Of how the function will equate.
A+B will only equate
In relation to the other sides
Of the Geometric Figure.