The Elite

David, my sweet David,
You wrote Ovid and Caxton's Arthur,
Chaucer and T. S. Eliot.
Your beautiful wife Helen wrote the Iliad and Odyssey.
Our best friend wrote Paradise Lost.
Would you now lie, and say my letters are actually yours?
Another of our friends wrote Hyperion.

I believed in your lies;
All of them.
And I will still claim you're innocent
Though my brother is burdened by your sins.
And I am burdened by them, too.
I did see you hunting
The night your your prey escaped.
I saw it in the dreams
You gave me.

I am wise. And you 
You are the King of Tyre.

I had visions of Athena whispering into your ears
Telling you that he would corrupt you.
I saw your thrill at the ancient American Legends...
Yet, you did not write them.
I had to. I had to because you
Were out having fun.
You shirked your responsibilities
So you could live like a king
And do your magic.
And they are more mine, now,
Then they were ever yours.

So, I say this: You are not my brother.
Though, it is you, who like a changeling,
Have snuck into my life.
I say this:
David is innocent.
Because I am David,
And I am innocent.
Yet, you, I tell you, you are not.

A Famine of Hearing the Word of the LORD

Nay, my loves,
Know that God's Word never changes.
The Synagogue of Satan
Changes it;
Those who say they are Jews
And are not, but lie.

As Amos spoke, 
There is a famine of hearing the Word of God.
What is my voice?
I don't know.
However, I remember Jesus' words
And I remember the Law of Moses.
It was to love our neighbor as we love ourselves
And to repent of all wrongdoing.

To my friends Who believe on God
Remember the things you were first taught.
There is no reason to fight in war.
There is no reason to struggle.
This is not our world.
This is not my world.
And if you let it go,
You shall have everlasting peace.

For the Preachers alter the words of God
The Sadducees' and Pharisees'
Doctrines are heard.
The Sanhedrin levy their accusations.
Be strong, those of you Who follow Christ.
Jew or Gentile believer,
Abandon the Star of your idol Moloch;
Give up the Eye of Horus.
Understand that we ought to believe
And be comfort to Zion.

Under Hezekiah the Law was forgotten.
Under Josiah as well.
The law is forgotten here today
Except for those of us who can still remember it.
Be strong, and wait upon the LORD's goodness.
For He shall come like a thief in the night,
And in a twinkling of an eye.
The time is near the end.

All God's people said
"Amen".

America

She buys two ordinary cakes.
She cuts them into circles.
She makes decadent custard
And candies some strawberries
And places them between rings of icing.
She then uses food coloring
To color some buttercream icing
And spreads two layers of colored cake.
She makes it beautiful
And decorates it with flowers
And two dollars worth of gold leaf.
She's turned one hundred dollars
Worth of materials, and quadrupled
It with her craft.
This is what makes America the greatest country on earth.
I hope one day I can do the same with my craft.

Amateur Critic

Nitpicking about iCarly's reboot
While missing its obvious flaw.
I will nitpick, too.
A Basketball player's silhouette
Slam dunks the ball into the white of a Paper Towel roll
Yet, it would make more sense
To shoot it into the center.
If we all must be pedants now
To have our voices heard,
And cry about absurdly dumb things
While missing the truly obvious flaw
I can't say that I'm capable of it
Except nitpicking, too.

Ambrosia

America, thy prospers are sublime.
Why wish for the fall of this good country?
Why fight and rebel against its great God?
I can pour Ambrosia into my cup,
Cold, smooth, sweetened with Piña - Colada 
Tartened by fruits of Greek Cherry Yogurt. 
A Klondike Bar makes its dregs chocolate.
America, thy prosperity is 
Like nectar. Why dost thou throw it away 
On untruths? Why dost thou wish to make man 
A god? Every man a judge of beauty?
Why dost thou say ugliness is beauty?
Why dost thou make wealth a judge of what's truth?
We shan't fall to fascism if we will
Rediscover that this Ambrosia came 
From blessings of Jehovah Provider.

Oh, War, I Come to You Again

Oh, war, I come to you again.
A muse in my innermost thoughts
Of why men would slaughter one another.
It was mentioned that you are fought
Because of beliefs, and that to deny
Such a thing is to deny humanity.
I look at this, and say, "There is nothing
"Human about war." Thus, I remember
The age old adages of the Stale Oxford Don;
"War is about Economics." How intelligent 
Men wished for it to no be the case
To build a case for Christ on the back
Of Religious ideology. For the ideology
Is beautiful because men do fight for it?
I believe men fight for their religion.
But, only because the religion brings comfort.
It brings order, and it brings familiarity.
It so orders the world around oneself
In a familiar way, that brings just recompense
On the unjust---for most religion is about establishing 
A law, by which men must live.
Then, Religion is about solidifying that law
Into the bulk of populations.
It is, yet again, another form of economics.
Why the most ugly thing about humanity
Must be awed at, as if religion were the force
Behind war. I say to those who say this
Even the well meaning advocate of the faith:
War is purely about economics.
And when men fight for God
What they truly fight for is the comfort
Of agreement between man and man
And the sacred bonds of uniformity.
That uniformity could be as simple as the color
On a piece of cloth. Men fight not for God
But they fight for the band and group
Which so identifies them.
And it is an ugly thing we ought to cut
From our flesh; though sometimes
The war is just, for the economics being fought
For were indeed comforting, and beneficial.