Once upon a time,
There was an editor
Who thought she did a good job.
She removed from the story
All the important talk.
As it was,
She secretly wove her fluff.
But the writer’s was better
And said, “Enough is enough.”
Once upon a time,
There was an editor
Who thought she did a good job.
She removed from the story
All the important talk.
As it was,
She secretly wove her fluff.
But the writer’s was better
And said, “Enough is enough.”
Blade in his finger
He slashes all fools.—
The fool who did some miraculous thing
Like hit a golf ball
Which ricocheted thrice, into the hole, with a wild pull.
Can it be said that the fool was good at golf?
Rather, he did something once in a million’s lot.
Yea, meat comes in due season.
Does it not?
Is not all skill provided for by God?
The more we practice
The more we grow;
The more we’ve seen
The more we know.
I’ve seen a 120 Million Dollar Man
Strike twice with his lob.
However,
I’ve seen Grandmasters beaten
Four games to seven.
I know Dunning Kruger
Are full of bad leaven.
For I’ve seen the greats
Beaten by the not so much.
I’ve seen novices which crush
The greatest with a smooth touch.
When a man strikes an endzone
With a perfect throw,
Consider, it is God who in good season
Will give him the goal.
Darrah sits with the scale in her hand
To measure the earth.—
To measure the sand.
Darrah is wooed by the preacher
Whose claims are of a certain sort
But Darrah belongs to the preacher whom wields her lips
To drink of her tongue and honeywine.
How the preacher drinks Darrah’s bosom
To spit it back out…
Because Darrah’s hidden parcel
Belongs more to the pleasant reverie
Told by a fireside
Than in any serious, fatal matter.
Darrah cannot sway the heart.
She cannot cause the doubtful to stop erring.
She, rather, is a swathed betrothed
Whom when asked a question she can answer.
But if Christ can not be seen in the stars
What is her answer to the one blinded
Whose ears see half of all words?
Let the preacher preach kindness
And love.
Let Darrah’s love be told by the fireside
So the little ones do not hear and stumble
When an answer is given.
Who, though, understands the answer?
Certainly not the ones asking questions
They need not answers to.
Not yet. Though this preacher corroborated Darrah’s
Lips, which she whispered into my ear,
Let the sucklings drink milk from Darrah’s bosom
And not the raw rootvegetable
With its skin.
At the mountain’s edge
I looked up in wonder at the mist.
How men will climb it to the top
And topple down the others.
Men will strive to reach its peak,
When all they need is to set their
Foot upon the precipice.
This is why God performs our vows.
He does not want us to climb
To the very top
And knock our brothers down.
Our foot upon the holy hill of
Zion
Is enough.
Let our thank offering be tents for the needy.
Let our peace offering be to lend to the poor.
Let our wave offering which we wave before the alter always clothe the naked.
Let our drink offering be poured out as a sweet savor to the foreigner.
Let our tithe unyoke the bonds of the captive.
Let our sacrifice be kind words.
Let our religion not be to camp in the wilderness
For the sake of selfish gain.
Let our religion be to visit the widow and orphan
In their time of distress—
Lest we scale the mountain
And knock down the lame and crippled
On our ascent.
The way which a battle of the such would turn
Is that Voldemort scorns the Nethanim.
Because Neither are they of magical blood—
For their powers come from feats of muscular strength
And the knowledge of the Earth’s natural forces—
Nor are they anything but muggles.
Thus, to them, the Killing Curse would remain unseen
For they’d neither understand it,
Nor would it kill them.
It might give them a little bit of a tweak in their heart,
But it would not kill them.
They’d understand Voldemort as
A Vampire or Orc, whom they would immediately try to behead.
They wouldn’t understand Horcruxes,
But would rather know Voldemort had made a deal
With the Devil for immortality,
And that he comes back with the science of Babylon.
Because Voldemort uses his wand
They’d see him just wave a stick.
They wouldn’t understand it
So they would slice him into three pieces.
The Nethanim do understand coercions,
Though, so Voldemort’s best bet would be
To try and find a way to control the Nethanim.
But, they are trained mentally and physically
To repel internal and external threats.
They would fight through the coercion
And then break through to Voldemort
By slicing him into three pieces.
Should Voldemort come back,
They would know he spat back from hell.
To which, if they found him again,
They’d cut him into three pieces again.
Should Voldemort amass a great fortune
To use on the Muggle population
And coerce them to destroy themselves,
The Nethanim would be given charge to fight
Back… for they are the guardians of the righteous
Those who do not practice magic.
One Nethanim would kill 10,000 Death Eaters
With the shaking of a spear;
For the realm of Magic is where a Nethanim will become involved
In Muggle affairs.
Should Magical Affairs impede on the Muggle’s life
The Nethanims are called to protect them
For a Nethanim use the knowledge of Faith
To break down magic and its coercions.
Otherwise, the Nethanim stay out of the affairs
Of Magical beings, for they know that these folk
Will soon decay, and wither in the grave.
The Nethanim would evangelize to Harry Potter
To ensure he was safe.
They gain power by advancing the Gospel
And they would try and persuade him not to use magic.
For, Harry would show them a spell
And the Nethanim would not see it.
They’d scratch their heads
And seem like they had just seen
Harry do an illusion.
They’d laugh, but then become concerned when Harry believed
In his trick. When this happens
The Nethanim will try and explain to Harry what really happened.
The Nethanim are not brutes…
They seek out wisdom and knowledge across the earth.
They see the full realms of God’s creation.
They know hell, heaven, earth,
Space, and realms men have yet to discover.
They understand things quickly
And whether it is good or bad.
Thus, the Nethanim would prefer that Harry
Come to Christ.
For they do not believe in magic.
Rather, they believe in metaphors
And symbols, and ideas…
To them that is what magic is.
The Nethanim would not fight Harry…
For Harry, to them, might just be a little queer.
They would rather mentor and tutor him
To explain what he did with his wand.
How perhaps Harry did his trick…
They always figure it out.
Should they find the science of Babylon
They would disassociate from Harry
Knowing he was lost in the wretched vice
Of the Babylonian Kingdom.
They would make a delicate bow
Like to princes, and they’d be on their way.
The Nethanim are not Judges.
They are defenders.
All the magic gone,
All I can see, clearly now,—
All was a daydream.
I still believe in Jesus.
He’s the only miracle.
The year 2060
Men plow their entire yards
Or cobble shoes;—
They plane houses
They build furniture in their wood shop.
They go to the markets.
They cook, they clean.
In the year 2060
Women sit at the computer screen
Do woman’s work by earning the household income.
The money she earns,
Gets given to the man.
The man pays the bills.
The woman sews the garments.
In the year 2060
Both parents teach their kids
The course material comes from online schools
And the mother—when not doing her online work—
Sits and schools the children on Columbus and Calculus;
The pixeled hologram of the teacher stands in the room to lecture.
The children spend most of their days with their families.
In the year 2060
Children play tag,
They don’t get homework
But they do love to learn because learning is about
Nurturing creativity and problem solving skills.
They meet with their local friends
And play with sticks instead of video games.
In the year 2060
If we’re still around
This seems like a nice way
To spend time and live life.
Life with family
Who raises you
Instead of peers and strangers.
Two cheeseburgers
From a high end restaurant
Costs, for the whole meal
About 12 dollars per person.
Two double cheeseburgers from Wendy’s
Costs about 10 dollars per person.
I did the math. My roast dinner…
With premium, 4lbs of Roast Chuck
Four premium potatoes
2lbs of the best carrots on the market
A gallon of Rice Milk—
I’m not making a political statement here—
A quart of Beef Stock—best on the market—
A can of sweet peas—
A whole container of Parmesan cheese—all of it won’t even be used—
Comes down to about 34 dollars
Divided into four people’s hungry bellies…
That’s $8.50
Per meal.
And I guarantee you,
It will be better than anything I could buy at Applebees.
God took me up.
And, I didn’t make it.
In my heart… I knew why.
There was a little ember of resentment
Against God.
It’s there.
Yet… where is my hope
Except in Jesus?
The pages of my life flew by
And most of it was miserable.
The ardent belief in strange things…
All I should know is Christ Jesus.
That’s what the dream meant.
Falsehoods, about things I don’t understand.
When heaven seemed like it was a computer screen
I knew I was in trouble.
I knew I was rather in that other place.
It was the dream I needed.
The wake up call.
How many things I believe that are false.
I will, for now, and always
Meditate on Paul’s wisdom.
All I can know is Christ Jesus.
I was raptured last night.
I flung up
With my laser gun.
I knew about the war.
I fought in the war.
I flung into the sky
With all bright, great zeal.
There, the winged Father of Lights
Stood.
My report card…
It was marked with red
Very little green.
Full of falsehoods,
Heresies, delinquencies,
As every season of my life
Flashed like a page of a report card.
It soon became apparent…
I hadn’t reached heaven.
Because that gun was in my hand.
It was the storm-trooper gun from my childhood.
I was ready to play real war.
Christians, turn the other cheek.