Vision of Prosperity

One day, alighted upon my fortune
There came a weary traveler.
She had found a wellspring of tales
As seemingly old as time,
Yet discovered they were new.

"What have I found?"
She wondered, as tales abounded
Among the language of the Saxon.
What were these?
Rife with mystical creatures,
Yet such was the fortune found
That it suddenly appeared
To this modern writer's
Ancient poesy, 
That it was discovered
And thus enjoyed
For as long as time was kept.

Son of Scylla

So, David had sowed a seed---a king,
And that King was Solomon.
So did Satan once sow a seed,---
And that seed was Death.

By the rape of Bathsheba
Came into the world Solomon.
By the rape of Scylla 
Came into the world Death.

Why does God choose one man
And another man He hates?

All do their crimes,---
Yet one is destined to heaven
But the other is destined for hell.

It is an offensive thing,
This cross. Great offense
That two men, having lived one life
One could be sent to paradise;
The other sent to hell.

I suppose that is the very breadth of it.
Two men, exactly the same,
One finds God
While the other, he will not.

What divine messenger spreads God's Word,
It is to one eternal life
So to another it is eternal damnation.

What separates the two, in
All likelihood,
Is the beating heart.
Two men live perfectly symmetrical lives,
All which determines grace or gory pain:
It is that beating thing beneath our chest.

Keep it good, unstained,
Though one had done what David had done,
One will still see eternal life.

Atlas

I stood, with the heavens on my shoulder.
If I could get a man to look up
The earth should be saved.
However, I had committed offenses
Against man, and as the preacher
Does, I held above me the pillars of the earth.
The mountainous daggers above me
The sinner's abyss below me.

I, I stood with the heavens upon my shoulder.
"Look up! Look up! There is a God,
"There are His angels, and His Cherubim
"And his Seraphim, and His Archangels,
"And Messengers, and His Nethanim,
"And Cherubs, and those sleeping in the grave.
"There is a world beyond our own.
"If you'd just look up,
"And unburden the heavens from my shoulder
"And hold them with me
"The earth might be saved."

The men stood, saying, "There are no heavens.
"There is only the earth.
"The stars are falling,
"But we do not perceive them.
"The heavens are shaking,
"But we do not want them to be.
"Terrible misfortune has come upon us all
"Yet we, we wish to live like we always had.
"Believing in great mysteries about ourselves.
"For we are too preoccupied with the things of this world
"To even look up, and see the stars have fallen.
"To even look out, and see the seas are raging
"Over their perpetual bounds."

I looked upon them.
"Men, men, countrymen,
"Do you not see that I alone bear the pillars of the Earth?
"Do you not see that I alone bear the heavens on my shoulder?
"You have taken the Gorgon's head
"And have petrified me.
"For I can but stand, and ache, and stiffen my nape
"Against an unwise generation as yourselves.
"You do not see the disasters among you,
"You deny the glorious reward on high?
"What, what do you seek?
"If I alone bear the heavens on my shoulder,
"And you do not look up,
"It will come crashing down on all flesh,
"And I will but be a grain of sand
"Weighed in the measure.
"It would all fail,
"And I will be dead, and you so with me."

They say then,
"The sky is falling, says the preacher.
"Has he not always said this
"From days of old?
"Has the sky fallen?
"No, I say it hasn't."

To wit, the preacher gave one last breath
One last desperate straight of his back
And bore those heavens strong.
Then, he collapsed under the weight of the heavens.
The men stood in awe,

"Has the Christian Preacher fallen under 
"The weight of his own prophecies?
"None of his ill foreboding came true."

There came a voice thunderous from heaven,
"Love has departed from the earth.
"Men, seeking to be like the beasts
"Have succumbed to their primordial pleasures.
"Thus, your own hell will be by your own hands
"That none, for a thousand generations,
"Shall know what love is,
"Or know what it is to have peace.
"None shall know what it is to have joy
"Or even know that there is a God.
"This preacher has come to be with good men
"And gracious women,
"Who have all suffered,
"But none so bad as the tyranny
"Man had created when he said to God,
"'Depart, I never knew you.'
"Man wishes for God to depart,
"God shall depart, and all the good things
"With Him, while this preacher sleeps,
"And shares in conjugal vows with his Creator."

Freedom of Speech

It's gone.
The corporation can take it from you
By simply lolling you to sleep.
Withdraw the hand that feeds
And one cannot eat.
Extort, so that the only way to earn bread
Is to obey the companies that tell you.

14,000,000 people were killed in the Holocaust.
20,000,000 people were killed in Stalin's Holocaust.
100,000,000 people were killed in Mao's Holocaust.

Children die in war.
When we dropped our bombs, did it only kill men?
Men with helmets?
No, women, children, they died too
When we bombed Germany.

Ask any soldier how to win an occupation?
Kill down to the last child.
If God said to do it once,
Once in all of history.
Then consider the cannibals that they murdered.

Slavery is a punishment inflicted on a nation.
When that nation ritualistically cannibalizes its infants
When that nation sodomizes its child prostitutes
When that society sacrifices little children
I think putting them to work is a mitigated sentence.

God does, in fact, destroy.
He will bring plauges.
And those plagues comfort me.
What else is to be done to a nation of murderers
Who smear Fetus over their skin
To stay healthy?
Who barter the blood of infants
For their products?

Why is what is about to happen will happen?
Because there is no right and wrong
To this generation.
Murder is good, if it's in the name of Anarchy and violence.
But, God's war is far too viscous.

The Crusades were defensive wars,
To protect against invaders.
Ask any Muslim whether it is justified to defend your territory
At a cost of human life.
Americans piously drop bombs in Iraq
And burst women and children's flesh 
Yet it is only unethical if it's a sword.
Let the children wander in their war zones...
Because that's right.

YouTube is censoring this information.
It's the cold hard truths.
War, the more violent side wins.
That's why we don't fight them.
That's why there are nation states
Which give bounds, so remove not the ancient boundaries.

What is wicked is waging war with kids gloves
So an entire continent suffers.
What is immoral is marching armies
With the thought that war can be fought reserved...
Meanwhile, children lose everything, and get indoctrinated.

Ask any soldier about those verses in the Bible
That talk about war.
Those who have killed a child, for in war everything is justified.
That is why one ought not fight it.

War is wicked, because  believe in the Bible
And it makes war the most wicked thing in the world.
That is why God is moral.
Because He doesn't make war glorious.
He doesn't make war anything but what it is...
Supreme evil.
And with that, it is why the Law of War brings me comfort
That it ought not be fought in our day and age.

And all of this is censored on Your Television.

The Duke’s Dirge

Shorn the sheep to graze in fields, peridot,
The jeweled sun’s breath upon the burnished cheek;
Kin we were in kith we ran the ramparts
Of our boyish troop, upon the dragon’s gorge.

It reared upon us one silent hour
O’ that brother of the Jeweled Seraphim,
Son of Satan and Scylla, most unwise.

He is a man like any other, plush
With his mischief upon the earth, rosy
Are his cheeks; richer he is than the king.

The Seraphim will bind his sire in
Juddecca’s chains, cast him down to hell. Yet.
That foe Death, only one will vanquish:—Christ.

The winds of the eastern vault bring pleasant
Breeze, to where we once in boyhood’s gay charms
Played with sticks, and serious was our charge
To guard the gates of those ruddy warriors.

The armies salvos over the hills, arms
March out to war, in our memory’s past;
Those games we played as youth, with prop instead
Of cold metal in the scabbard’s tang.

Never was Satan’s sire, that Scylla’s
Bastard, a thought upon our mind, when war
Burgeoned in the hill valleys of our play.
Yet, the silent winds cooled our childhood’s

Games. And the sweet smell of the heather blooms
Rose through the air with the mowed grass; sticks crossed
Their tackles, but not the iron of war.

Brother, I pray you find rest in the green
Lights of Paradise’s grove; so rest sound.

For our swords would cross in amateur play
Yet, now the Bastard has crept through your door.

Raise; raise you Duke
At the last Trumpet’s sound
Into paradise.

The Cedars of Lebanon

Covered in duct tape,

One sliver of tape across the top of its binding,

That’s split in the middle to the original black cover—

 

Revelation Chapter 22 falls out every time it’s opened.

 

It’s ten inches in height,

Five and a half in length,

Two and a half in depth.

 

There is an inch and a half tear

In the top corner of the binding

On the back cover.

 

The Duct tape frays at every edge.

Its pages curl on the corners.

It’s very flexible.

Weighs about eight ounces.