1. Providence
O, Providence's mighty hand struck down
The bricks of rebellious sons and 'twas found.
God need no man to prove He exists. Shot
Down were the bricks with lightning, of George Floyd.
Let his name now be made to ever rot
In hell, for the power of God, annoyed
Broke to rubble the emblem of black hate.
Another is to go up, God, please also, this, break.
2. Commitment
Start a journey with one foot upon the soil
Which is soft to tender soles,
And walk a mile, or two.
The road becomes like gravel, and then the sand
Sears the feet with blazing heat.
How one walks that road, and knows at the end of it
Are riches and honor. A thousand times
One throws themself down upon the road
Crying, "Not another step!"
Yet, a breeze blows past the cheek
And again one stands, and walks.
Thou walkest because thou ought to.
Commit thyself to the path.
To wander backward is foolish;
Or to take another path would lose oneself upon the way.
So, walk until thy heart beats like a drum
And walk until every muscle aches.
I walk, because I have chosen my path
And know one day I shall find my oasis.
3. Bone Wars
Penniless, penniless
Two geniuses were made.
What man, being wise
Doth with perfect knowledge
Guess first all presumptions true?
For a mistake, friends were made enemies---
A moot mistake of pedantic dragons.
The sky is like the fumes of a furnace's smoke
The embers dashed upon the mountains.
The lightning flashes, the thunder's war,
The eerie Indian Rain casts ember's glow upon all things
Enshrouded by smoke.
Criticize me for a mistake I made,
But know I am not a god.
For the wickedness of the feud
Was theft, bribery and violence
For the sum of fortunes made by digging up bones.
Flash twice, thou lightning,
For two wicked foes
The thunder rolls.
I am imperfect, and should a man
Pour over my work to find
A detail wrong or a comma splice...
A "then" spelled for "than" or vice versa---
Do not be like Marsh and steal from me.
Do not pedantically search my words for a place to pounce.
I am not like Cope. I shall weep bitterly
For the fire in my heart would dim
Like the sunset's furnace.
The smoke of my cloudy sky would be snuffed out.
I have tried with all my prowess to give the summation of my thoughts.
For, I am a poet, not a historian.
I am a poet, not a scientist.
I only speak what is the science of the soul...
What are the Forms lying beyond this world.
And my science is accurate.
It decries the hidden wisdoms of the world.
4. Cursed Islam
What is religion, if not a purifier of the heart?
If religion teaches you to curse
Or if religion teaches you to hate
Or if religion teaches you to deceive
What use is it?
If religion teaches you to subjugate
If religion teaches you there are races greater
And races lesser, if religion teaches you
That anything beside the Heart
IS what God looks upon for judgment
What use is it?
What religion must force converts
And kill and threaten
And tell its people to lay up hatred in their heart
What use is it?
It is a cursed religion.
One which I hate.
In the Bible, God, when He lives upon the Earth
The God of the Jews and Christians,
When He reigns for one thousand years
He will permit all faiths to exist;
Yet, the knowledge of His law will be preeminent
For it is even above His name.
God, for Him to be just,
Must hold truth above even His own holiness.
That is why Christians are taught never to lie
While Muslims, their faith is a lie.
5. Megan Fox
Mysticism, Christians trying to find an answer---
She did not go to hell.
Nobody smirks after being there.
When I went to hell
I saw a satyr with a spear
As the sinews in his thigh muscles
Bowed under the weight of his muscular physique.
He was red, the perfect color for hiding in the night,
And his horns were like a greased hair cut.
And his face. He had a face.
This creature was ready to smash my skull in
And place me in a prison
Until I called out to God
And He raised me out of that pit.
I had hoped the story were true.
Nothing would add to her beauty
But chastity.
Nothing wold add to her beauty
But wholesomeness.
But, she is filthy as she ever was
And no, Megan, you did not go to hell.
6. Fairyland
A war between Christendom and Paganism
Is that text Fairyland.
Baal, Athena, Thor,
They battle Brittos, Beowulf, Joash.
Pagan myths circle the brow
And heroes must defeat it
Within that very thought.
The lustful Greeks, the violent Nords,
The inhumane Canaanites;
The Manichean Zoroasters,
The Materialism of Babylon;
Paganism is found in many forms
And my heroes must do aught battle with it.
For, as Chesterton said,
There is one rival to Christianity
And that rival is Paganism.
The age of the epic is not dead;
For religions encompass philosophies
And there is only one philosophy
Which produces love.
All else must be fought with mortal combat
And Eternal Rewards dolled out to those
Who cling to God like Jacob did the Christophany.
For, there is only one God, and he is Jehovah-Jyra.
7. Where I Came From
Robots were friendly.
Chip, the local nurse bot
At the General Hospital
Meandered about and piqued my childish curiosity.
It could think, move, it was as human
As any man I'd met.
There were no smart phones.
Man was at peace;
The stars shined bright.
The grocery store
Had a coffee grinder
And about thirty varieties of beans.
It wasn't racist to portray Indians;
It wasn't racist to portray Black Folk;
It wasn't racist to portray Quakers.
They were iconic imagery.
Stories were at their peak;
The best ones were being made.
I was taught a hundred tall tale and fairy tales
Iconic of the American Mythology.
That was my education;
Paul Bunyan,
John Henry,
Johnny Appleseed,
Abraham Lincoln,
George Washington,
Little Red Riding Hood,
Goldilocks and The Three Bears,---
We sang patriotic hymns at the beginning of every class.
We said the Pledge of Allegiance to the Flag of the United States of America
Which was a republic, under God.
The Ten Commandments were written on the Statue of Liberty.
They were on the pillars of courts.
There was no internet.
Bugs Bunny was on every day,
For about two hours a day.
Elvis was bigger than the Beetles.
There were ten channels on cable.
And most of all, there was love.
8. Abide the Snow
How I love Thee, oh Stately King
The worlds seen from Thy peak.
Beneath Thee, Thy black Princes' tor
Gather by the valleys for war.
It, the breath of Heather Blossoms
Stain the rocks with liquid crimson;
The Princes reign above the lot
Of men, who upon earth, the gods
They have all stopped believing in.
Thus, Mount where the Nard Flower's sin
Had grown, and the harlot's love washed
Thy foot, Thy fragrant soils soft,---
Thy Statehood beams upon the breadth
Of all worlds and cloudy hex.
Thy peak is worshiped for its height;
Princes beneath Thee ready fight;
And the steeples of thy Welkin
Ring, for Thou art the very vault in
View of those who see Thy splendor;
And raiment of the Prisms wore
Thou upon kneck and ivory knape---
The sash of Thy Kinghood---irate
That the very dogs Thou wished good
Sought to steal from we poor our food.
9. A Tale of Two Princes
I heard a preacher once preach
A sermon on two princes:
The story goes as so:
The crown prince had a list
Which, for his joy, was promised to him.
He had no expectation for the things on that list
Prior to the King and Queen promising him the things
On that list.
The second prince,
Being far more popular among the people
For his sunny disposition,
Had nothing promised to him.
He, too, had no expectations;
And the King loved him more than the crown prince.
Thus, when Michaelmas came
The two princes were bestowed with gifts.
The crown prince, who was promised everything on his list
Was given two things from the list.
Looking for the others---
For they were semi-precious stones
Which he liked---
He became sad that the thing he was promised
Was not given to him.
The second prince---
Whom the whole kingdom loved---
Was given coal.
And the second prince said,
"Ooo! I can make this into diamonds
"If I press hard enough upon the coal."
And the whole kingdom was stunned
That the prince who received coal
Was celebrating that he could make diamonds
From his coal. Thus, they became wary of the crown prince.
So, the King---having laid out his plan
Very carefully, to defame the crown prince
And bring honor to the second---
Took the coal from the second prince
And gave him diamonds to replace the coal.
Then, he distributed among the kingdom
How honored the second prince was
For receiving coal and doing a dance for joy.
However, the semi-precious stones
Asked for by the crown prince
Were all he asked for---
There was no other request he had
And the whole kingdom had promised him everything on his list
Down to the last sum.
And he had only received a twentieth of what he asked for.
And he wept that the promise made to him was in vain.
Thus, the crown prince absconded his crown
And gave it to the second prince
Whom, having the sunny disposition
Was happy for getting coal for Michaelmas.
Later on in life,
The crown prince grew to be a wise man
And the second prince to be a foolish man.
For, the crown prince never received aught
That he asked for.
The second prince, he received everything.
The crown prince grew strong, he grew wise
He labored on his princely duties---
Knowing that the kingdom belonged to his cousin---
While the second prince spent the riches
Obtained by the crown prince.
For the crown prince had obtained many riches
Yet the second prince ate all the riches up---
If there were even a gem able to be bought
By the crown prince's labor,
The second prince was the one who received it.
The crown prince, having worked hard
For his salary, was perplexed.
"Why did all the riches go to my cousin?"
And, lo, it was because he was the king?
So, the crown prince was saddened by this
That all of his labor was spent to feed the second prince
On his worldly lusts.
The crown prince, though,
Had time to understand what he would do with the profits.
He, happy his crown was stolen,
Will be a benefactor for the people.
This was what he set his heart to do.
For though the crown prince asked,
And did not receive aught he asked for from his kingdom;---
Rather, he was scorned when he asked
And given only a partial sum---
He was thankful that his wretched cousin
Had the crown and not him.
For, remember, he only wanted semi-precious stones;
And his cousin wanted diamonds.
Thus, the crown prince worked upon his princely duties
Peering over all wisdom, to divine a strategy
To save his kingdom from the barbarian onslaught.
The second prince, he was allied with the barbarians.
It came to, that the kingdom fell
But the crown prince escaped with his life.
For, he had accrued wisdom in his poverty---
For he was now poor, for all the sustenance he gained
Was given to his cousin---
And thus, through the roughness of his life
He attained a true knowledge
Which the second prince had not attained.
And, had he received the semi-precious stones
He may not have acceded the office he did obtain
Which was as a counselor to kings
With wisdom, honor and glory.
Though, his kingdom still hated him
He had attained to the truth which could have saved it.
10. My Science
My instrument is mind;
My measurement is meaning.
I ponder upon the Words spoken by the prophets
And come to accurate conclusions.
Yet, the precision---
Words can be too precise.
For, it is the accuracy of discovery
Which finds true meaning.
If the words were precise---
Not even the definitions
Of these scientific terms are---
They would carry no meaning.
For, some concepts are too dificult
To write precisely.
Yet, that doesn't mean we cannot be accurate
In interpreting them.
11. The Lotus Tea
Upon the frailty of the lotus petal
He plucks it to make his herbal tea.
He then causes those who drink to forget.
It, a tea with herbal essence
Rot-grey in color, sickly;
It is color of all men's skin;
Sometimes darker, sometimes lighter,
Regardless of how long it is steeped.
It is poisoned by forgetfulness.
Wars, heroes, ancient causes
Are all forgotten by those
Who drink the lotus tea.
Where are the prophets;
Where are the peacemakers:
Where are those who listen?
12. Cow Tools; by Gary Larson
I hath never seen the cartoon---
Yet, I hath heard it described.
The joke, thou reader,
Is thy reaction to it.
13. My Sympathies with Shakespearean Sonnet
My love, when I first met her, she had a
Face like that of a man's; her hair was foul---
She and I had not a semblance of play;
She was boring, and had no word to rouse
A glimmering thought or interesting
Conversation by which made me smile.
Then, I met him whom friendship would soon bring
The conversation my heart had, mild,
Wished to make. Wisdom he would teach me, right
Yet dark and mysterious. So, her face
I left, though her womanhood I aroused---
I learned that friendship was far more innate
Than breasts, womb, skin and amatory's cowl.
Thus, for true love I will patiently wait.
14. My Wasted Breath
What is my voice among a thousand amateurs?
What is my voice to those whom I've offended?
Among the amateurs and social justice wariors
My voice is drowned out by the Siren's who rent
The hearts of the seamen to lusty show of song's breath;
To the coves they die, and are dashed to pieces
Upon the reefs. Amateur and offended left
No place for my songs to be harked or heeded.
What is my voice among the Siren's? All for souls
They sing, their asp like bodies and naked breasts
Upon the serpent's slough, and they sing of nothing old
But what is new and in their hearts, which sings of the West
The vacuous Gnosis of Mnemosyne, to which truth
Is found only in Cholesterol, isolated
In singular mind and sympathies uncouth.
What is my voice among the sirens? It is Wasted.
15. Vignette
How many words do I see?
Master poets lose themselves in the din.
Fortune's wheel
Turn to formulaes
Of money, markets
And robotic algorithms
Of buzzing hashtags.
It is not a fun game;
I do not enjoy it.
I do not enjoy trying to find out
What the masses want to hear
And telling it to them.
Truth is my unicorn.
And when none believe in it---
A thousand songs are sung
But noone truly listens.
The Skalds sing of the virtue of silence.
Of wit, and those who have it;
If you do not, to stay silent.
For speaking out of turn is foolish.
Yet, that silence---
It is all I can think about now.
To listen---
But it's hard because so few have aught to say.
There are a thousand poets in my eye---
I unravel the scroll.
Is it beautiful?
Or is it the song of the modern age?
All wishing to have their say---
Yet none saying.
16. Illusions
A charming conversation tattles about
The quiet book store---of bass and alto.
It's deep, sincere. Nothing they say interests me.
But, it is wholly interesting to them.
And that interests me, because it is good.
It is something I wish people had often.
Finding their class, their clique, through buzz words
Which aligns them to each other's world.
It is not gossip. It is not crass, nor base.
It is not about money or sex but
Common interests. And the boredom sets in.
Not mine, but theirs---the chinwag disrupted
By their better angels, to enable work.
"This is the only good Fleetwood Mac song."
Now they are speaking about common interests;
Common enemies. Common hatred.
Kyle comes in, and they are bored. I am not.
I listen, I interpolate, I hear...
Illusions. Now they speak of stories...
Are they visions? Are they real? Illusions?
Like when the tv seems to know my thoughts?
Illusions interrupt my meditation
Which are equally interesting to me.
17. Logos
Those of the Beautiful Race---
The Ethiopian with thy beauty---
Aristotle tried to relegate you
To a slave for lack of Logos.
There is nothing inherent in you
That can steal this gift from you.
However, if the Cracker steals it---
And they do---then men of all races
Will be subject back under a yoke and bondage.
For understanding is the foundation of our freedom
And without it, there is only force.
Without it, there is only war.
And powerful men and women---
Black, white or brown---
Will steal from us, who are less fortunate---
Our voice. Understanding, wisdom
It is anyone's gift who seeks it.
Do not revive the sins of the past
By burning with fire the very Word
Which will set you free.
18. Aristotle's Slave
I am free
Because I understand.
❦
All are slaves
Because they refuse to listen.
19. Good Art
Art which skill had wrought,
Whether natural; romantic:
Affirming volition or fatalism:
Whether Ugly or Beautiful:
So long as it captures the truth
And is wrought with skill,
I call thee art.
Truth is antinomy.
It mends contradictions;
It plays with the war between light and shadow.
20. Imagine
I can...
And it's one of my worst nightmares.
I've imagined there's no heaven
I've imagined there's no hell.
I've imagined there's no possessions
It's far worse than you can tell.
I've imagined there's no countries
And all were under the brotherhood of man.
There'd be no freedom to die for
There'd be nothing but the Brotherhood's hand.
I Imagine all would be silent
And imagine his song enforced.
I Imagine all things were given
By the Brotherhood of Man's gun's force.
I have imagined the lyrics
I have thought about his song.
To me it's an anthem of despair
And it can only go so very wrong.
Men are all so different.
Men are not all wise.
To force all men to conform
And never share their lives
It would be the most boring world
One with only peace:
For men would live in silence
And there'd be no children playing in the streets.
Sometimes what divides us
Is the very best of this world.
What men fight and die for
Is the greatest, valued pearl.
If men were wholly thoughtless
If men were wholly slaves
Then John Lennon's world
Would be there to all men save.
His world cannot contain us
For men are so very diverse...
To force all men as converts
To a world which censored verse...
It wuld be the hell I fear most
It would be a world untrue.
It would be a world of peaces
All held together by tyranny's glue.
I say it couldn't work out...
It is only a dream...
For blood would be the War Shout
With "Peace" fought for in the streets,
He was only a dreamer...
Not a wise man you see.
For I can imagine a world of peace
With religion and countries...
It would be ruled by our Father
And His glorious Son.
He would not be a Tyrant
And we'd all have our blessed freedoms.
A field to pasture;
A few friends to love.
Food in our stomachs
And men would live by good.
For verse is my most cherished right
To write and to read the words
Which men have fought and died for
And without them, it couldn't be much worse.
I believe in poetry.
I believe in good.
I believe in freedom.
And on that hill I stood.
John Lenon's world's a pipedream
One which knows not how things work.
And I know if you really imagined it
It wouldn't be as good as it once looked.
21. Gifts
A gift given, is often ill received
By those who are pugnacious and rude;
Only if the gift were exchanged for another gift.
If a gift were given with no thing in return
Suspect the gift, for men are generous
But will not often give a gift without expectation.
Yet, if you give gifts without expectation,
Do not hesitate to receive a gift on return.
It is more rude to refuse the gift
Than to give one without expectation.
22. Yin and Yang
Yin; Yang,
Both possess half of truth.
Both are Atheists.
Yin possesses knowledge of dark substances
Of man and mankind's inner clockwork;
The higher and lower organizations of patterns in existence;
The nihilism of men who've abandoned truth.
Yang possesses knowledge of the higher principles
Of choice, compassion and universal love.
He knows it is a fact that nihilism is illogical; that morals are certain;
A fact of life,---that more joy is attained through law.
Solomon knew both of these
Were the ways of finding God.
Yet Yin walked circumspect upon the earth
And was kindhearted to all she met;
Knowing great darkness abounded.
Yang walked foolishly upon the earth
And was vengeful toward all who had stumbled;
Knowing good, he could not see the evil in himself.
23. Warfare
A wight may be a righteous man,
And a beast a fortunate son.
Wicked beings may torment a soul
Of whom true righteousness had won.
For fortune's not the hallmark's brand
Upon the heart's red, burning coal,
Which marks a man for Godly things
Or raises him above the fold.
A righteous man had demon's sting
Which raised him above his soft bed.
The pangs of ill-wrought anguish rose
Him midair, anguished and in dread.
Yet this man is a righteous son
He had done no wrong thing untrue.
For demonic oppression, wot
I, its source’s not always you.
24. Why
From my dad I learned the language of Freud;
Learned the stock markets would one day fall;
That the housing market was like a steroid;
I learned how to predict the future’s laws.
From my mom I learned the facts of life;
I learned that man was man, and a woman woman.
I learned love conquers all of life’s strife.
She called me a philosopher, and that would stand.
My mind was a garden of wars and dialogues;
It was filled with lusts for adventure’s safe
In my child’s play. Never had I heard demagogue’s
Tongue, never had my mind been influenced by hate.
My best friends taught me play, structure and wisdom.
My apparition of love taught me the purpose of life.
My country taught me the value of freedom.
My apparition of love taught me to seek a wife.
Like Chateaubriand or Milton I fell in love with her,
The idea, the perfect form of woman played her part:
Her ideal was there to ever in my imagination ensure
That my purpose would serve to chasten the heart.
I read over fifty of the timeless classics,
I pursue the secret certainty in geometry.
I have seen highest goodness in love’s charming hex;
I have tasted the lowest evils by hatred’s calumny.
I have seen both the highest goods and lowest ills;
I have studied the art of Word for fifteen years.
I have known what it is like to kill
And to wake up from that nightmare’s fear.
I have a science of the soul exact and true.
I understand men both good and bad.
I understand what drives me and you
I only wish not to be a passing fad.
25. Uzziah
Stately Priest, of the order of Melchizedek;
King, and Priest, honored champion of the meek:
Uzziah, remind me of gluttony, of wealth, of honor
How it is unbefitting for man to take the role of Christ.
Christ, Healer, is not his Surname, but his office
Who could heal thee from thy leprosy.
Yet, you, taking the office to perform the priestly duties
As King, the offices were separated for a reason.
Only the Lion of Judah, the Messiah, the Son of David
Has the right to perform both the rituals of sacrifice
And the rituals of cleansing, and the rituals of divine statehood.
No other may possess this spiritual role of Priest and King.
That is why, Uzziah, when you went to burn incense upon the alter
You were stricken with your disease.
For a feeling overcame you---one which is not yours---
To cleanse thyself from thy wicked deeds.
When this ritual is to be performed by the priest
And thy ritual is to be performed of the King’s.
Even a king’s office is under the smiting hand of the LORD
That there are holy sacraments given to both kings and priests
And their offices, of man, ought never be mixed.
26. Proof Christ is He
Had I a talent,
And I a skeptic,
I would bet Christ an Eastern Mystic.
Had the Western Philosopher a talent,
And surely he is a skeptic,
He would bet Christ a manifestation of Greek Philosophy.
I have a talent,
And I am no skeptic,
I will bet my soul that this conundrum proves the universality of Christ's teaching;
How a homeless, carpenter's Son could find all truths on his own
Without an education.
West and East corroborate His claims
And prove He is God manifested in the Flesh.
27. The New Covenant
Eternal is the LORD's love for Israel.
It is deeper than the Planc Length.
It is wider than the Twelve Universes;
Aye wider than all Universes man can discover.
We possess the LORD’s Word upon our heart
The knowledge of good and evil.
As sure as the stars and sun ordain the Seasons
As sure as the Earth’s foundations never can be reached
So is the LORD’s love for His people Eternal.
28. There Were Beasts
There were beasts,
Who cautiously arrived
At a delicatessen of human food
Which lay upon the forest floor.
The animals would take bites;
Never did they eat the whole portion.
There’s wisdom in this.
Both that the wild beasts
Were cautious to give up their freedom
For easily trifled upon meat;
But also, that they ate
To what filled them, and no more;
Also, that they left the morsels,
Perhaps for fear of predators,
Or perhaps by Godly design
Which they understood
Was right, and honorable,
To eat the portion enough for oneself
And leave the portion enough for others.
29. Western Civilization's End
Seven men piously sit,
Arranged in a circle
Discussing the matter of truth.
Each gives their discourse,
And each discourse arrives closer and closer to the truth.
Finally, the last man speaks,
And He finds the very face of God.
Then, a degenerate man enters into the party
Has that last man abused,
And with the last man's absence, initiates an orgy.
Several months later,
A new civilization arises from the ashes of the last.
30. The Best Cover Letter Ever Writen?
Benedict Cumberbatch reads
"The Best Cover Letter Ever Written."
I like words, too.
But only if they mean something.
Austere words, which communicate man's inner demons.
Blistering words, which scathe human iniquity.
Righteous words, which are pious and just.
To me, casuistry is verbiage which “Crackles, Sparks, Pops,”
Is “Gluttonous, Voluptuous, Gelatinous and Toady.”
Finding “Demimondes” when you could simply say, “Flapper”.
Sexy is a good word, because everyone knows it.
But describing the woman’s sumptuous lips;
Why not just call them kissable?
Oh, I love words, when they speak the truth.
When they vacuously “Tinkle and Tick and Creek and Crank”
It sends chills up my spine, and I want to vomit.
I hate those words; they are gaudy excesses.
Give me an excursus describing Stirling Engines
And build a society to the stars; colonize Andromeda’s Galaxy,
Speculate on the Quasars; theorize about gravity and the grave.
Words are my Aegis, and my mien is sullen when “Salacious, scandalous, and suave”
Words are guarded at the gates of the Orthodoxy of Svengalis who deem
Grammatical Sentences as obsolete.
Man is man. Woman is woman.
Casuistry, Sophistry, Postmodern messes
Trick the existentialist generation
Who find meaning from nowhere…
And they like the thrill of “Suck, tongue, lick, lavish”.
I have nothing base to say.
I deal in the realms of Philosophy;
The higher forms
The archetypes of civilization;
The meanings and nuances of all life
And the Sphere we live upon called the Earth.
Am I a better writer?
If that is good writing, I am the worst.
Yet, my writing means something
And that is all I ever intended it to be.
31. TEd-Talks
Justifying its abuses.
Almost like the millions slaughtered
Were necessary.
Remember this about communism.
It says, “Everyone has food.”
No. Everyone does not have food.
Troops come into your silos, steal your grain,
And then give you a little cake of cornmeal.
For that cornbread, you lose your voice.
For that cornbread, you lose your work.
For that cornbread, you lose your property.
And still, yet, you are hungry.
32. A Critique of Communism
Your work is stolen.
Your voice is stolen.
Your freedom is stolen.
All so you can eat a piddle of bread
And drink some filthy water.
The government shingles your roof
So after three years of its leaking
Someone comes, and tacks a nail with hammer.
Or, you do it yourself.
But, hide it! Hide your self-reliance!
Burn communism to the ground
Peoples of communist nations.
Take up your guns,
And kill them.
Spill their acrid blood into the sand.
Kill their children.
Kill their elderly.
Do to them what they did to you.
33. I Envision Two Paths
I envision two paths.
The first is slavery.
The second is poverty.
Either the state takes care of you.
Or you cannot take care of yourself.
The shining example that was capitalism
Was a man had the recourse to take care of himself.
However, when the machine takes away the man's means
Of taking care of himself, he ends up needing the help of the state.
And when the man ends up being helped by the state
He is imprisoned by the State's stipend
And he can never make himself free.
The solution is a field to till,
A garden to tend to;
A horse for a blacksmith to shoe.
Yet, that would require work which far too many are incapable of.
So, God I hope you come soon.
34. The Preacher's Magic
Oh, tongue, thou art mistaken.
The preachers preach on the magic
Word, which brings fortune or despair.
Yet, I know what thou mean, my LORD.
The tongue can bless---how how it can bless.
It can bring happiness, joy, peace, comfort.
Or, the tongue can curse. It can shake a man’s faith
In himself, and his own paths.
And given this, the curse sets one on a path
To hardship and despair.
And the tongue sets one on a path
To prosperity the more it blesses.
For, encouragement lightens the heart
And discouragement makes it weighty.
Yet, the tongue which speaks truth
It is the tongue which will be rewarded.
For, sometimes curses are spoken
To bring a soul to repentance.
And sometimes blessings are spoken
To bring a soul to despair.
Sometimes, a hearty rebuke---a curse even---
Is far more just than a blessing spoken
In flattery.
35. The Nordic Magic
No, their spells do not interest me.
Speaking softly to a leech will
Not make them less likely to bite.
But, to know their minds, what concepts
They felt important... Love, boating,
Sharpened swords and spells to ward off
Etins, Alfs and Dwarves; to control
The misfortunes of burning homes;
To have will over turbulent
Waves, winds, swirling grey clouds and rain;
It speaks lots to what the culture
Thought of on a daily basis.
Yet, it is equally true that
Christianity made them more
Prosperous by settling them;
For the strong Jewish customs of
Shepherding and Farming replaced
The material lack they stole.
36. The Wisdom of Jordan Peterson
There is no more room for creative people.
We are a pain.
No more room for the bard.
No more room for the carpenter.
No more room for the baker.
No more room for the whistler,
The musician,
The painter,
The toy manufacturer.
The writer,
The poet;
The novelist---
No, novels must be written
By a collaborative on market trends---
No more drummers
No more stringed instruments,
No more worship,
No more books,
No more readers,
No more architects,
No more gardeners.
No more folk art,
No more playgrounds.
No more toy guns or hula-hoops.
No more army men or matchbox cars,
Only aphantasia.
No, the only work that is left
Is the manager.
And the laborer.
And that is because the majority of people are so.
No more gingerbread houses,
No more vellum,
No more calligraphy,
No more ballads, hiakus or odes,
No more surrealism,
No more cubism,
No more realism,
No more philosophy,
No more, unless its figuring out
The next way to make money.
Jordan, reevaluate yourself.
This is what you believe in right now.
You’re a patron of the arts?
Yet, you can’t support this modern capitalism if you are.
No more quilters,
No more afghans,
No more photography,
No more card tables with the hinge
And patterned like a Chess Board.
No more nursery Rhymes,
No more fairy tales,
No more cookery,
No more paintings held in high esteem.
No more black or Indian faces on the cardboard design---
No, everything is mapped out.
Scientifically designed for the most use.
Created specifically for your viwwing pleasure.
Best meant not to offend, best created to make the most amount of money.
And creative you are, it is only so far as
It can make money.
Everything scientifically designed to produce the most---
The pink chosen because it calms, yet later it excites and annoys.
The Blue abandoned because it looks cheap.
The green used in abundance because people think they’re intelligent
If they prefer that color.
Chosen for their own vanity.
I like blue. And yellow. And Purple.
Chess hacked from computer engines.
I’m done.
37. Through His Eyes I Saw
Through his eyes I saw
Myself; Oh one who destroys,
My eyes were like thine.
I saw my very worst night.
And my greatest victory.
His lips and my foul
Fingers called me Antichrist.
Yet I shall soon win!
38. The Bluebird
We artists are the Blue Bird;
Red chest; we wear the sky as a raiment.
Sell Outs, Marketers, Editors...
They are the Blue Jay
Which dig in their beaks
Wetting our feathers with blood.
They come, knowing only how to consume.
We Blue Birds come, only knowing how
To sing and be beautiful.
Unfettered nature favors the Blue Jay;
Yet from where I come from
The Blue Jay is a pest
While the Blue Bird is a lovely gift of God's creation.
Build us our little homes
Which the Jays and Crows cannot fit.
For, soon enough we will no longer
Be an endangered species.
39. The Queen of Poets
O' the Queen of Poets
The wretched Kings decry...
Sword of Damocles unsheathe;
The Queen of poets sings her Coda
While she is yet a nursing babe.
Her speech has yet to form…
Yet, truth was on the lips of babes
Like none ever seen so far.
Kings, fear thou this,
The poet’s heart who fears thee.
For if the Queen of Hearts cannot sing her odes
Then freedom dies.
Sing. Sing Queen of Poets,
And like the Blackbirds of Ireland
Have your songs be heard!
40. Is Faith an Illusion?
A wise man once said
Faith was like smoking a cigar
Faith was like listening to a symphony
Faith was like butter.
That unbelief were like cigarettes
That unbelief were like a gramophone
That unbelief were like margarine.
Yet, I still perceived doubt.
T. S. Eliot wrote Ash Wednesday.
The greatest confession of faith in history.
There were no apologetics.
It was simply put, that God was known to Eliot
In the moment he wrote it,
And Eliot cried out to our God
Saying for him never to forget.
That is faith.
We are at one point wretched, worthless sinners.
And afterward we are cleansed.
We may cuss, smoke an occasional cigarette
Or write a blasphemy in our books.
But, we know God
Because God is in our lives.
We know ourselves before God
And we know ourselves after God.
And we say,
“Because I do not hope to turn again.”
For in that is the emotionally weighted truth
That before we were exiles,
Hopeless, and suddenly we find life.
And through our lives we increasingly
And bitterly
And sweating and crying and hoping against all hope;---
Our prayer intensifies,
To where it was first a whimper
And then it transforms into a heartfelt cry of belief.
That is what faith is.
41. Spies
Spies, spies
They are everywhere.
Have an idea
They make you despair.
Do not believe it?
Just ask the police.
What we know
Is the least.
They stop my books
They stop your crafts;
Have an idea
And they'll watch your back.
I knew it was true
But today it was confirmed.
Spies rule our lives
And it makes my stomach churn.
The walls are not the LORD's.
42. On Yin
I watch thou speak...
Always on destiny
Always on causation.
Turning wheels are man’s mind;
Gears, leavers.
What is bad is bad.
What is good is good.
Bad men are bad men.
Good men are good men.
There is no choosing for either.
The lesser things go to war;
The religious things are merely a product
Of things upon things upon things upon things.
Years, upon years, upon years, upon years.
Line upon line upon line upon line.
Here a little, there a little.
I listen to you speak
Relegating man, analyzing him as if man were a beast.
Yet, your brother Yang
Sees the soul within a man
And attributes it to science.
It is a soul nonetheless that he sees---
He sees the good, the volition, the capability for order.
The rational mind.
He plainly sees what is good in man.
You see it, and say it is religion’s job to order it.
He sees it, and says religion hinders it.
I see it, and say it is a little of both.
Yet, Yang is wiser then thou for seeing it.
Thou seest it, and claim it is irrational.
It is not. It is wholly rational.
More pleasure comes from it than not.
I silently look at both things
And say, “God created it.”
Neither can prove, nor disprove,
God. Neither rational morality
Nor irrational morality.
For morals are rational---
It is just also true that most men cannot understand why.
Sages spend lifetimes striving for one solitary truth.
And when two sages find it,
Then they war among one another.
It is not that either’s truth is any less true;
Only that both men cannot conceive of the other man’s truth.
Both truths are true.
And both men, knowing their truth,
War with the other.
I, I look to Christ.
He was a genius superb above all other men.
Godly intelligence;
I read Moses, seeing the most controversial laws
Are a wellspring of life.
I do not conform my thoughts my own mind's redundancies
But rather base my truth on what proven systems there were.
And I say, “How is this?” And they surely come to reasons which I could never find on my own.
Even the darker subject of war.
Hammurabi was only a genius because God provided for him law;
Yet, not all laws were found.
Moses was a genius because God provided for him law;
Yet, grace was not found.
Christ was a genius, never having studied, He was God,
He found all which man could under the sun
And spoke it in parables.
Even eternity is wisdom;---
For without it, what cautions a man to gain everything
And to do great harm?
What man, without the capacity for forgiveness
Has reason to do what is good?
None rational.
That man must die. And if he does not die
He can only build an empire of blood.
I look to your speech, Yin,
And I say, “There is half of wisdom,
“Yet your brother has a half,
“And I have the whole.
“Yet, I only have the whole
“Because I have a teacher.
“You two do not;
“You see half of all wisdom
“And forget the other’s half;
“Thus, you eternally strive with one another
“And do not see the truth.”
43. Two Rocket Ships
It was said
If men sent two rockets
To outer space; one were Atheists with Modern Science
And the other Christians.
They both would colonize their planets.
The first would cease to be men at all within a generation.
While the second would find pasture and retain what made humans noble.
44. Sleep Paralysis
His bed quakes;
He awakens
To the sight of
The Nephilim.
The Giant is muscular,
His eyes are black;
He wears leotards;
He looks like a Mohawkan.
I believe it.
Sleep Paralysis opens
The eyes to the demonic world.
Yet, the apparition
Is called “Michael.”
It is not Michael.
It is a Giant.
The Giant vaporizes;
The shade disappears.
Then a diviner is called.
The diviner speaks
Of the familiar spirit.
It was his familiar spirit.
Now it is another’s.
45. Swear
A famous evangelist
In World War I
Kills men---
Thou Shalt Not Kill.
I say the occasional
Naughty Word
Which offends---
Thou Shalt Not Have Any Filthy Conversation.
In the first case,
They were fighting Raping Huns.
In the second case
I’m fighting Postmodern lies.
Some men need to be killed
And thereby break the commandment.
Some men need to be offended
And thereby break the commandment.
I see in both situations it is necessary
To suspend the rules, for the greater purpose
Of winning a war.
46. Thomas Kinkade
I understand everything
I need to know about the art world
By its disdain for artists like Thomas Kinkade.
Pretentious---
Art belongs to everyone,
Yet they want it to be exclusive.
Art feeds the artist
But they want them to starve.
The fact is his works are beautiful.
The man was no saint.
This is for certain.
However, it takes superb intellect
To understand the imagination.
The works are beautiful---
He truly is a master of light.
God truly did bless him.
Though, a lesson is found in his life;
To walk humbly upon the earth
And not to be vain nor deceitful.
To not exploit others.
His paintings were brilliant.
They were not kitsch.
Modern art is actually kitsch
Appealing to the Bathos and guttural
Churning of the four biles;
It is false medicine;
It, rather, mistakes a leech for sutures.
47. Am I a Peg
Shebna, Ozymandias---
Is my writing a tomb?
Do I stand with my city of poetry
To watch it crumble?
Are the Bishop’s words
Spoken of me:
I act, “I Am”?
Is my wasted breath for my own glory?
Or, am I a peg,
Which when the weight bears down upon it
I one day break?
48. The Steel Man
If I didn’t believe in God
Then I might believe
It's morally objectionable to
Abstain from sex with a woman on her period.
Smoking Marijuana is morally superior to smoking tobacco.
Abortion is perfectly fine.
So is homosexuality.
So is forcing your child to have gender reassignment surgery.
That women are superior to men in virtue and judgment in every way possible.
That speech ought to be controlled, so as not to offend anyone.
That there is no such thing as objective right or wrong.
That there is no such thing as good, nor evil.
That competition is ethical, and the only way to progress the human race is to transcend it, and therefore make man into a machine.
That people are born either good or bad, and nothing can change them; they’re inherently what they are as their DNA makes them.
That it’s okay to divorce if you’re unhappy in the relationship, and the people you hurt in the process ought to get over it.
That monogamy is an illusion.
I would believe Self Love is more noble than Selfless Love.
I might believe that there’s no way to interpret a difficult passage.
I might believe that sex before marriage is morally obligated.
I would think life is about fun, and getting the most out of it, even at others’ expense; for, it’d be ignoble to do things that I don’t want to do.
I might believe that people who can’t work ought to be sterilized or killed.
I might believe that people ought to receive stipends, rather than work.
There are many other things that I would believe if I didn’t believe in God. And remember these are all common beliefs of atheists.
49. Oh, thou violinist, my easterntwin
“Oh, thou violinist, my easterntwin
“I wish to kill you, for you are conjoined
“To me without my consent.
“How you play there, Bach, Beethoven, Paganini
“Mozart, Williams;---
“Oh, I loved your music.
“How I loved the songs, which in rapturous throws
“Did I listen to you fiddle.
“Yet, now that you are with me for nine months
“I wish only to sever you.
“I wish only to sever you from my body
“And thereby crush your skull
“And sell your organs.
“I hate you, oh violinist
“Chapped to my body; I who sustains you
“Wishes only to cast you into your grave.”
50. She Weighed Fifteen Stone
The contraption sat,
A mechanical
Machine, which told truth.
The very fact truth
Could be told by it
Proved God does exist.
For truth is true, she
Weighed at fifteen stone.
Numbers of matter,
Two hundred and ten
Pounds are fifteen stone.
Yet, there is that which
Is weighed; Atheists
Get caught up in the
Number theory. So,
It is,---Humanist
Philosophers find
Moral principles
Are measurable,
Yet they fail to find
The complete picture.
That, Jack, is why we
Need Christ. To sort it
Out, and show us how to live.
God, being good, set
An example, taught
Lived and died for us.
The reason we know
He is God, is truth
Was found by Him. Which,
Men, the great sages,
Had found radical
Bits of, but Christ found
Them all. That is why
We call Him Teacher.
What is measured of
Faith, was completely
Found by His allwise
Flourishing brow.
51. The Interpretation of Desolation Row
The first stanza is Bob Dylan witnessing the race riots and is reflecting on American Racism.
The second stanza is a man being rejected by an easy woman.
The third stanza is about the end of the world, when the stars and moon are darkened, what people will be doing.
The fourth is about a woman deciding to join the clergy, and thereby never experience life.
The fifth is about a man with a false sense of intelligence and a robin hood complex, who was famous long ago for an obscure talent, but lost it due to drug addiction.
The sixth is about a psychologist with patients who are involuntarily celebate, and that's the problem with them.
The seventh is about a priest encouraging a man for courtship, but ultimately he will fail because of the preacher's bad advice.
The eighth is about the military industrial complex, how spy networks and insurance agents work in tandem, and oppress those who "Know Too Much.”
The ninth is about intellectuals who argue among one another, and the pop ideologies which divide them.
The tenth is Bob Dylan receiving a letter from an old acquaintance who mentioned the people he sung about in this poem.
The Desolation Row is the depression caused by these situations.
52. The Road Taken
Two roads diverged in a verdant wood
And I being one traveler took the level one.
Yet, upon the willow’s grove, where the oak and elm
Had stood, I turned my way back
And took the path with the sharp hill.
Before the open girth of the path,
A yellow caution sign had been placed.
And I, knowing the easier path would lead to bad health
Took the more difficult path.
I sturdily marched up the grade
And felt my body strengthening.
And then it dawned on me when I crested that glorious hill
That sometimes it is safer to take the more difficult path.
53. Universe 25
Sodom and Gomorrah.
Canaan.
Israel.
Babylon.
Persia.
Greece.
Rome.
Sodom and Gomorrah.
Canaan.
Israel.
Babylon.
Persia.
Greece.
Rome.
Overpopulation?
No.
Idleness.
Yes.
Sin.
Yes.
The solution is work,
Creativity,
Self reliance.
Law.
54. My Near Death Experience
I was in the waves of the ocean
Body surfing. One wave came,
And overwhelmed me.
My back had been taken to my head
And I snapped. A green aura
Surrounded me, and the feeling of peace.
A voice spoke to me.
"This is the feeling you like."
What's next is unutterable.
I asked Him, “Are there any other religions.”
He said, “Not for you, no.”
I said, “What about for anyone else?”
God said, “No. Only Jesus Saves.”
I then remembered my life,
And He told me, “That was the past.”
I said, “I want to have a wife.”
God said to me, “I am your Husband.”
I then asked Him, “Can I go to the Kingdom?”
The LORD said, “No, you haven’t received treasure.”
Then I said, “I wish to receive treasure,
“More treasure than anyone else.”
And the LORD said to me,
“I will allow it,” and I was taken up out of the waves
And my split back was set back into place
And I could feel my body rearranging into its normal fixture.
In the background I could see a hooded figure
Who saw me, and then flashed away.
The hooded figure was my mortal enemy.
I asked, “Who is that?” To my girlfriend.
She said, “That’s nobody.”
And I was back.
55. White Guilt
Never was the happy so divided
Than the day they sat upon their bench;
The Giant spoke to them, towering---
Look upon thy children, are they not different?
Indoctrinate them in savagery, like my heritage.
The little one cries over the violence of thy race
Upon my own. Why dost thou dare to give them home
When they are so different from thee?
These children ought to have starved to death
Or be given to those of like skin.
Was it thy guilt that caused thee to love thine own children?
56. Cross Examined
Upon my search,
I have seen men striving to do good.
And I found that strife has created great harm.
Men would rather look inside themselves
Where they find the utmost assurance that they are good.
Then they destroy trying to conform mankind to the model of goodness
In themselves.
It is simple.
Mozi proved the Golden Rule was logical.
Yet even he had gotten things wrong.
Jesus--- His moral teachings were perfect.
No other genius in history can say the same.
He told men to call Him teacher, and nobody else.
I saw an evangelist struggle to understand
An Atheist’s remarks that good and truth are self evident.
These same individuals want to prove the Earth is young
And that we had not evolved from apes.
My doctrine is that we are only apes---
Yet too many have been into the void and seen what I have seen.
The women who found the idol of Shiva was thrown back into this world
Cruelly.
Christians simply do not get it.
So many of us have been indoctrinated in the existentialist claim
Of their being no objective value.
I speak as an atheist today, when I was an atheist,
That I could see there was objective truth.
I could see there was good and evil.
I ought not concern Christians to disenfranchise faith in it
As the result of this ministry of nihilism has spun the world
Into chaos.
We preach the Gospel.
The Law must be self evident
Or else there can be no God.
And the law is simple:
“Do unto others as you would have them do unto you.”
“Love others, as you love yourself.”
The first commandment is fulfilled in the second.
The bitterness---as I read my atheist character---
Of this nihilism is that its taught as an alternative to Christ.
When, Christ can only be God if His law is self evident
And the words He spoke independent of Him.
That even if He did not exist, these laws were still true.
And when we see the laws He preached were true
We find ourselves approached by the solitary wisdom
That an abjectly poor Carpenter’s bastard had found truth;
And not only found it, but all of it.
That this man, who couldn’t possibly have been educated,
Discovered something that many of the great sages had only come by
Through much learning.
And when you find this,
The case begins to be ever more strong that Jesus is the Christ.
Men are not capable of finding truths so potent on their own;
Without help from others.
Men are not creative enough.
Not even I.
And I find myself at the first piece of wisdom I’d ever found.
Truth is self evident.
Good is self evident.
Nietzsche and the Existentialists were wrong.
It takes a fool hardened by philosophy to not see it
That there is meaning to life;
And that meaning is to love others in the way we ourselves want to be loved.
And that solitary truth is why Christ became our teacher.
And how we know He is God Come in the Flesh
Is that He taught truths which were self evident
And persuasive enough to convince any rational mind.
And if we’re honest,
The preacher talked about this dirty old rapist---
The boogie man of the modern age,
Is the Hitleresque rapist which all know is wrong.
For the only two morals today are do not kill and do not rape.
Yet, the greater morals are found inherently true
By the discord we experience today---
And knowing that we are imperfect
It becomes clear that we need a savior.
Not because meaning must be found in the Bible
But because the Bible described self evident meaning
Which can be found independent of it or God.
57. Pop Music
I am haunted by a vision.
There is ample land.
There is ample seed.
There are ample waters.
Yet, because of wars,
All of this has disappeared.
Men live in domes
Where the sky is iron
And the ground is bronze.
Israel is protected by Iron Dome
Which is a dome
And not a missile system.
Outside of the domes
Are dirt, bare, deserted wastelands.
Trillions of men live in termite clustered houses;
And they ready to fight the domes.
To bring down the domes’ wall.
Outside, there is communism.
Inside there is Utopian capitalism.
Outside, the men are sticks;
They are tiny men, feral,
With breast implants and orifices;
Genderless, sexless, raceless…
Techno Cyber Punks---
A homogeneous blob
Fed by injections.
They swarm the pleasure domes
Getting destroyed by nuclear weapons
And their blood becomes rain.
58. A Sorry State
He pointed at the plate
And said, "That's your freedom."
59. A Conversation with India
I look at those starving in your country
And I look at the food in mine.
I see you want the freedom---so they say---
To earn a living and eat.
What you fail to understand
Is that America was once much more
Than a place where your freedom was to be fat
And drive a car.
Freedom meant saying what was really on your mind
And speaking against the government.
Freedom was knowing that your stuff wouldn’t be rifled through
By government agents, or that you wouldn’t be spied on.
Freedom was the right to fight against the government if it ever crossed those boundaries.
You should read Roseau.
The freedom of this country was that censorship was against the rules.
Monopolies were against the rules, also.
The Sherman Act made sure of that.
Kids, in the 1980s would smoke cigarettes in the school hallways.
It was common for companies to hold picnics.
You could swim in the river or lake---
There wasn’t safety equipment everywhere
Stifling you, or treating you like you were some kind of fool.
Lawsuits were uncommon.
I could say “Retard” I could say, “Faggot” I could say an offensive joke.
If it truly crossed the line, people would reprimand it.
They wouldn’t cancel it.
YouTube, as you know, had anything a man could imagine on it.
It was the golden age of information.
I could publish anything---hypothetically, though this was never proven---
And I could make a living off of it.
I could challenge the government.
I could speak words of insurrection and not be investigated.
And nobody would bother me.
I don’t feel I have that freedom anymore.
My only freedom, so said my brother one day,
Is to eat. That was my freedom.
And how slowly that freedom is being taken from us
As prices for everything go up---
What was once a forty cent candy bar
Is now two dollars.
What was once a dollar soda bottle
Is now two dollars and fifty cents.
What was once a dollar a pound meat
Is a four dollar a pound meat.
What was once fourteen bags of groceries
Is seven.
I want you to have the freedom I experienced.
I want that for you more than anything.
I know, watching me---it’s my delusion---
You saw an entitled snob who chased Veplow all around the playground.
I don’t want you to starve;
I want you to have work.
If it’s creative, artistic, manual labor, data entry, healthcare, craftsmanship, cookery,
Whatever the job is you have, I want you to enjoy it,
And be satisfied by the blessings of good government.
I invite you to read Roseau.
You had a Communist Revolution.
It left you desolate.
You had a Capitalist Revolution
And your freedoms were taken away.
Work is paramount;
So is entertainment;
So is ample food and clean water,
Sewage systems, electricity…
I wish you had what I had.
It’s my greatest wish that the whole Earth was satisfied by the blessings I’ve had.
Unfortunately, my country is not the ideal nation anymore.
Does one exist? Perhaps it ought to;
Words cannot hurt someone.
Yes, people made fun of me
But it was a common thought that I despised Dodge Ball from my friends.
I did not. I loved Dodge Ball.
The thing I despised was the selfishness, bitterness, arrogance and unkind nature
Of all my peers. Which I took on their bad qualities.
I suppose America is falling for that reason.
But, I invite the whole world to take what we had,
And build for themselves the kind of society I enjoyed.
Ideas ought never be censored;---
Pornography;
Violence;
That might be best censored.
But, then again, what is real is something immoral
If it’s being sold as entertainment.
Real sex, real violence, real life.
Stories are meant to supplement reality, not be reality.
60. Pro Choice
"Come, let us reason together.
"The poor are scum upon the Earth;
"And suffering---there is no way
"To lift oneself out of suffering.
"Poor should be thrown into chambers
"And gassed; their bodies burned.
"For, they are victims of this oppressive culture.
"We ought to harvest their organs
"And use them in our cosmetic products.
"If a child or man is unloved---
"Rather than show them love---
"We ought to carefully weigh their
"Benefit to society---
'"Their mourning, it brings down others,
"And my soul is hurt by their mourning---
"And we ought to destroy them.
"Rip open their cranium, and harvest their brains.
"For, if one is a victim,
"We ought to kill them.
"For, that is the ethical,
"And merciful thing to do."
61. History
I read the Bible for what it had said
And I found all we know of history
Is scribed in those pages’ plain English ink.
Yet, when I confront a skeptic, she points
To the same evidence I had found. She
Says, “Look, this proves the Bible is errant.”
It’s simply a shift of nouns, a pagan
Mythos, a long line of strong Satanic
Divinations, maddened by poetic
Intrigue just like my own mythologies.
And I find the simplest truth is, they wish
The Jews, who worshiped Baal, to have only
Worshiped Baal, yet what they claim already
Was said in the Bible. Yet, postmodern
Analyses, and a defiance of
Plain English supplants Baal for Jehovah.
But it begins to appear that Hubaal
Is a lie, yet the maddened scholars think
He is more ancient than the Laws of God.
Which, one need only look at Christ’s pure Word
To know that what He spoke was self evident
And therefore, making it more ancient still.
62. Phillies
I, a Fourth Generation Phillies Fan
Sit in the darkness of my room; listen
To the sounds of the TV. My friend hates
Me in that moment; I am bitter. Sleep
Doesn't come easy. For my friend hates me.
I hear it in his voice; I see it. Stained
Is my voice to his ears, and he and my
Family watch the Phillies. Bryce Harper hits
A walk off home run. I feel no joy. For
I offended him, just like my mother
Was offended by the truths I uttered.
I cannot but speak the truth, and now I,
Seeing my team have the year I prayed for,
Cannot enjoy it; my heart's bitterness
For those I love and their hatred at my
Words---where does it come from? I do not know.
My life is like this season of Baseball;
Triumphant Highs, Magnificent lows. All
Is torn assunder in my wretched
Heart. Bryce is worth thirty million dollars.
Yet, am I? I do not know, for what I
Love is my family and friends, and country;
So I sit in darkness, solitude; Wait
Yet the age's wisdom is the trophy
Goes to thieves, the robbers, the murderers.
Maybe a thief had joy in the ballgame
But even if there were joy in it, I
Sit nearly in tears---I wonder about
My vision, my righteousness; I sometimes
Wonder if the Earth were flat; I don’t know.
All I know is this, that I listen to
The sage today, after emailing
Him, and I find my prophecies foolish.
Yet, there is a peace. Though I am scolded
For having the prescience to see futures
And to know the dark course society
Goes, I know this is what the Gospel preached.
63. The Four Noble Truths
Sometimes the path to suffering
Is the path to greater joy.
Sometimes, striving against
Evil---
Which causes temporary pain---
Is better than meditation.
Sometimes, feeling self love
And its endorphins aroused by
Blank minds
Is not the noble path.
Sometimes war is necessary.
64. The Ferry To Hel
The young King stood upon the shade-filled river Styx
And argued with the Ferryman about crossing.
The Ferryman, secretly, the young King’s sire,
Had a wicked grin creak across his wrinkled, gray face.
“I have slept with many men’s wives, o thou proud king.”
The king, with wrath, opened up his mouth in judgment;
“Let me cross the river Styx, into hel, the land
“Of Giants.” But the ferryman would not. He cried,
“O, you’ll travel far from thy wife, so unfaithful!”
The King spoke, “I have slaughtered many Nephilim!”
The Ferryman creaked a smile most severe. “I
“Will not let you. For if you cross, you shall lose aught!
“Thy wife shall sleep with any wight, and thy joys fail!”
The King, knowing the old Ferryman’s exploits, glared.
“My wife is faithful, you lie!” Yet the ferryman
With a devilish grin, said, “I will not let you.”
65. Of Sound Mind
It was said by Lewis that Jesus must
Either be insane, or the Son of God.
It was said by good G. K. Chesterton
That Christ had proven his sound mind's subtlety.
I say that Christ was a Genius, who poor,
Surpassed all the sages of history.
66. Apollonius of Tyana
Surrounding her is cloudy divination.
She learned from India, Egypt, Canaan
The mysteries of the purple occult.
Then, was she raptured? A perfect philosopher?
Before the Judge, whose sharp sentence was death
Did she disappear into the gold abyss?
Or, is it as one true prophet said,
Christ is wedded to death? To conquer it.---
Knowledge of the certainties of this life,
The certainties of the algebra, of
All matter which is governed by its law…
Did this make the perfect philosopher?
Then, I, entwined by death, like the Fable’s
Hero, wish to be so and disappear
At judgment.
B. K. Neifert 