With torches and angry words they riot in our streets. They set fire to buildings and call our public servants Nazis! They cry about equality all the while the preach anarchy! They say they can fix it but they never do. They want you to be angry and hate where you live. If we were only more like other countries, just how great it would be. Their plans have been tried in cities and states in our land. The remnants of burnt out buildings and failed ideals litter the landscape of these places. A so called underclass frustrated and angry rage against the honest and hard working people. They think they can destroy what has been built and remake it in their own warped image. Despite the best efforts from without and within, America the idea still lives! So let the hate mongers rage and destroy where they live. You cannot burn down an idea, it has been tried again and again.

Our cities are filled with greed, crime and poverty. The elite sit in their strongholds and count their ill gotten gains. Our leaders are indifferent to our suffering and expect us to conform to their whims. We struggle for our daily bread, while others sit in wheat fields of plenty. We rage and scream at shadows as we fight against the agents of what we perceive as our oppression. Perhaps it is time to abandon the spires of our imprisonment and return to our past. Perhaps if we leave the so called civilized world and get back to what we once knew, then we can regain our freedom. Should we like locust move from what we have consumed and go onto something new? Perhaps we should just level the playing field, perhaps we should just tear it all down?

I walk past a garden apartment each morning. It faces the rising sun. In the window seal sits a cat looking out as the world goes by. I stop and look at the casual observer who gives me little thought. He stretches his paws forward and closes his eyes. He settles into the warm rays of days first light. I feel somewhat slighted, but then envious, for as I just trudge on into the world, the cat in the window seal lounges quietly, not caring what the world thinks as he watches the it go by.

Pink hats and blood curdling screams! In the streets they riot for no reason it seems. The tall orange man stole the victory. Out from the hands of their savior he took it. It should not be allowed, burn it all down. He cannot do it not again. So they scream and howl like banshees caught in a holy place. On they rage, yes they are deranged.

I keep the curtains drawn and pull the covers back over my head. The sun peers through the window but I prefer dark skies. I have tried to medicate my pain away, but the numbness only makes things worse. At least with the grief, I know that I am alive. I walk around as if I am not with in my own skin. I see , I hear and know, but it is as if I am a spectator in my own life. I shuffle through my existence hoping that perhaps I will just quietly fade away like shadows of the day. I pass a mirror and I see the outer image of what the world sees, but behind the image I project, my eyes strain to hold the tears that are always present inside of me.

Drug needles lay in the streets while people live in the gutter. Neighborhoods fall apart as young men shoot each other over a street corner. A young teenage mother holds her child who is crying from hunger. Leaders bicker over petty politics while their is a civil war going on. People look out their broken windows at burned out buildings dreaming of a better life. Where is this hopeless place you ask? Just turn on your TV because this is America!

The alarm clock screams in my ears! The coffee *** hasn't worked in what seems like years. Is it my day or my spouse's day to take care of the kids. I need 5 more minutes please I wish I could have 10. I'm up and step into a cold shower because all the hot water has been used. I wipe to sleep out of my eyes and stumble down the hall through an obstacle course of toys that leaves me battered and bruised. I turn on the TV and there appears to never be any good news. My taxes are going up and the layoffs continue and then the weather concludes. More grey skies and rain oh, that's my everyday life. So I try to get some food down as my kids scream and holler in the background. I pull it all together and everyone heads out the door and then it hits me that the dog is still in the kitchen, I hope he hasn't done anything to my floor. So I get my house situated and drop the kids off at school on the Curve. Then someone honk a horn at me and gets on my last frazzled nerve!

Bark bark bark goes the dog with the cold nose. Pad foot pad foot as the k 9 walks along. Wagging the tail in happy refrain as a ball is chased on a sunny day. Man's best friend always wants to play. A loyal companion to the end, every dog has his day.

Snow flakes tickle your nose, but the blush in your cheeks is not from the cold. The howling wind bites at your skin, but you feel warmth from your head to your toes. Forget June and sunny days, ice crystals hang from the trees like diamonds in an exotic Garden. You look into piercing eyes as the mist of your breath can be seen in the air. A wedding in December with all white covering the Earth, two hearts joined as one. A winter spent in love.

I walked in sins darkness and didn't know the light. I was lost without hope and couldn't get it right. I was in a sea of forgotten people drowning in my shame. Then Jesus found me and I will never be the same. When I was lost in darkness he came to me, he called out to me and he set me free. Jesus broke the chains of sin , I was blind but now I see. In my heart I have Jesus and I will never be the same. Now I know for sure that he knows my name.

Don't mind the warts on my nose, my heart is warm down to my toes. I know I have a crooked smile, but I sure know how to have a Good time. If you hear me singing it might make your ears bleed, but I put joy into each note. When I laugh it sounds like a screech, but I am great in the kitchen if you want something to eat. So pull up a seat and I will pour you a cup of my homemade brew. They say that beauty is only skin deep so I guess I can say with great pride, that I'm really beautiful on the inside.

What if we all spoke the same tongue? What if wars had never come? What if nobody taught children to have? What if we all learned to give away our excess, imagine how great things would be? What if ideas were freely shared and could be quickly put into place. Just imagine all the problems that we could solve, imagine what wonders we could see. Now let us stop imagining and start working to make these things reality.

The world is running fast down a wide path. A slippery ***** is under foot and people are enjoying the ride. The days are fast approaching when the final bell will toll. In a delusional state, many will be deceived and will follow a shooting star. A light that will burn bright for a moment then burn out, leaving them in darkness. Then when the world has gone far enough, in the east the sky will give way to a new day and the bright and morning star will come. Many will flee but shall not find refuge, when it all ends.

Sacrifice and heart break, sorrow and tears, loss and longing are the stark truths that lay in love. Poets talk of smiles and warm sunny days yet this is only a dream. Love is a mother comforting a sick child. Love is a labor of long hours in a job no one wants to do. Love is giving without the hope of receiving. Love holds many mysteries and many truths. It lets us find out who we are and what we are not. It defines us and breaks us, it binds us and divides us. These are the many things hidden in love.

They dress in finery and celebrate being ******. The laud their superiority over those that they revile. They celebrate immorality, blindly following a dark path. Life is nothing but a changing scene for them. Riotous living is what crave as they play in the streets. Law and justice are trodden under foot. They say we want equality, as they strip away other people's rights. In a delusional fever they dance to a tune played by the devil they serve.

Caw caw caw cries a black bird in a tree. From a like high up in a weathered lifeless oak, the bird stares at me. A cold wind blows by and a chill runs down my spine. Caw caw cries the black bird as it takes flight. Down the bird descends beneath dark and dreary skies, landing on a solitary Grey rock caw caw caw it calls to me. I stop and stare into the dark messengers eyes. Now I understand the Ravens purpose and why the Ravens cries. Come come come is what it says to those who are about to die.

The sun shines down on the earth as it turned in the emptiness of space. People stirred as the days light broke the eastern horizon across the world. God looked down from his throne and listened to the world. He heard cursing and talking but little in the way of prayer. Suddenly he raised his hand and a great angel went forward with his trumpet in his hand. As people were going about concerned with worldly care, suddenly the angel blew his horn an creation was shaken. The sun suddenly went out and darkness fell on the earth. The heavens were torn asunder and a new light shines down. In fear people fell as all things came undone. In the heavens Christ sat on a great white throne surrounded by his angels and the saints of old. Morning had given way to eternity as God said it is done. No more shall morning break, eternal day has come.

All people are born the same, naked and cold. Some may come into advantage and some may be lacking, but we are all human. Our lessons are taught to us by others. What we do with knowledge is left to us. Some of us cannot see past a skewed vision of reality. Some humans let superficial differences define who and what they are. In reality it is character that matters more than what we look like. Because we are all equal in the end as the in beginning. For we all come to the same end, and what we do between life and death is more important that our outer selves.

My insides are tied in knots. My face is flush with rage! How dare he do me this way! My blood boils and my teeth grind as my eyes narrow their focus. There he goes smiling as if nothing happened, he will soon regret how he treated me. He will know what it means to be a woman scorned.

The road is dark and the morning air is cold. I look up and see the dim street lights. I pedal faster in hopes of warming up. I wonder why I ever agreed to this, then I hear a dog barking off to the side. I slam my brakes on and nearly fly forward over the handlebars. Papers shift in my bag as I tried to regain my balance. I squint my eyes and see a porch light on oh, I know that's my first stop. I go forward slowly and grab the paper and hurled it toward the steps. Move on to the next and then the next no longer feeling in the cold. Before I know it the sun has broken The horizon and the first day of my route is done. Looking back, I now have fond memories of how hard it was but I wouldn't change a thing.

From one root humanity sprang up. We shot forth in all directions. We put out leaves and clusters of us formed communities. We diverged and became diverse, some of reached for the sun, but cast a long shadow over others. Somewhere along the way, the parts of the vine that rose up, forgot where are roots lie. Perhaps it is time that we all look back and trace our origions so that we can realize that we all came from the same place and that we are all part of the same human vine.

Let us scream, let us rage. Let us refuse to accept the status quo. Let us make our voices heard. Let's us lift up our voices, let's us rattle the machine. Tell them we have a choice. We will dig in the  dirt and bring the foundations down, until the fat cats topple to the ground. So let them wring there hands in worry, we are not going anywhere. We shall force a change, we shall make them hear!

The police have been refunded, the jail house doors are open. The city streets are empty except for unruly mobs. they are waving all manner of flags and are making crazy demands. People have just tuned out and let them burn the cities down. The rich are closed up in their strong holds , while rural towns have closed off their roads. The movement is at an end, the rioters have won. They occupy city hall but the politicians have just given up. So now that they have what they want, what will come next. America has fractured as the world sits in astonishment, now that they have gotten what they want.

Her hair was long and flowing down her back. With streaks of purple and green, it enticed you into her web. Her skin was golden tan, her lips were cherry red. Her hips swayed when she would walk. There was something sultry about the way she talked. Her dress was cut from here to there, showing just enough to make you aware that she was a woman. Her nails were long sharp and painted black, you could dare to dream how they would feel on your back. With long legs and a piercing, stare she would quietly tempt you to dare. Try to escape her if you must, but everything about her makes you lust.

In Sharon a flower bloomed. A rose of great beauty that was gone too soon. It's fragrance filled the air, until of it's delicate petals it was stripped bare. Left naked and alone, it bore the shame of us all. Lain low among the thorns, through tragedy a flower was reborn. More beautiful than it had been before, a magnificent flower for all to adore. For where the rose had been brought down by all the world's sin, salvation was bornnwhennthe rose bloomed again.

They found a child named Amanda Gorman, they tout her as their new darling. They say she is the new it girl, they say she will change the world. The truth is that it is all a lie, repackaged for you to buy. She will speak about social justice and how it should apply to the rest of us. We will hear her talk about inclusion but in truth it is all a delusion. For they only have their point of view and there is no room for me and you. They are not open to any discussion. They only want to take and never give, that is the only way they know how to live. If the son of God could not save the world, then how do they expect to get deliverance from this girl?

Morning will come again, the sun will rise. The night will end and my pillow won't have to catch my tears. I will wipe the sorrow from my eyes and put my pain In a drawer. A shower and a new perspective will be welcome. Your memory will begin to fade and my wounded heart will heal. I will pull the pieces back together and figure out what comes next. when I no more tears to cry for you, then I can finally move on.

Here's your arm band now get in line. You will get your boots and brown shirt in due time. Don't mind the rhetoric, just yell and scream a lot. We will tell you when to act out or not. We all March to the same tune, we will tell you what that tune is. You don't need think for yourself, we will do that for you. So just learn to have an angry blank stare, be cold and indifferent as you can be. Our party is a lively one as you will soon see. No matter the problem, it is always someone else's fault. We have a solution, just let us have control. All will be fine, just go along with our program. Welcome to the party, isn't life grand.

The graves of our sons and daughters line the shores of foreign lands. We might squabble among ourselves, but if outsiders try to interfere then united we will stand. We give our all to everything we do and the promise of freedom still stands, to anyone who wants our dream you will find we understand. So if you want to be one of us then you may have to wait in line. Don't expect a hand out but we will give you a hand up so you can stand up on your own two feet. Being born an American is not easy, but it is dam well worth the fight. So roll up your sleeves and let's get to work making America a better place.

We are given hope and we dash it. We are offered redemption and we refuse it. We can be great but we seek to be shallow and unforgiving. We hold on to earthly things instead the heavenly. We turn on each other and take from each other until we are all the poorer for it. God looks at who were and who we were meant to be, then he weeps at what we are.

People struggle to get here, then they tear our country down. People say they want Justice, then they take away our rights. If you work hard and make something of yourself, they say you don't deserve it. Well what will the world be like when our doors are closed. When the U.S. brings our troops home and return our ships to port. When we finally close our borders and fortify our shores. When we cut off all communications with every other place. When Lady Liberty's light is put out and we pull in the welcome mat. What will the world do then, what will they think about that. When we finally give them what they have been asking for and their left with China and Iran. Do you think they will finally get it, do you think they will understand. When the United Nations is no longer welcome here. When we freedom loving people, say your on your own. When we take care of America first and the rest of the world be dammed. When America Closes it's doors then what will be their plan?

Truth is that life isn't fair. While some people seem to have it easy and never have a care, others suffer indignity and must go through great pain. No two people have it the same. They say money cannot buy you love, but if you gave me a billion dollars I am sure I could find some. The world is a fickle place, the haves and the have nots define the human race. Some people are born in a first world and some in a third, but many still live in the same ****, just by a different name, but poverty is poverty and little seems to change. Empires rise and kingdoms fall, while the poor and hungry remain. The rich and powerful build castles on high mountains or buildings that reach the sky, in hopes of not seeing what lays in the streets below. In all things death is the only equalizer, but in that there too seems to be disparity, depending on which religion you subscribe to as your reality.

On Hallmark they come little love stories so sweet, so full of syrup that they will make you sick. Designer ****** mysteries that she baked, Aurora and her Tea garden oh so fake. Things written for bored housewives, neatly fitting into a niche to be over oh so quick, but in real life the charterers would likely be divorced or dead, or perhaps on drugs to deal with the cliches that fill their head. The cupcake movies that people write as dribble and mundane, they make real life look like it is insane.

I walked by a garage just the other day. I saw a man in overalls working the day away. He had a Grey streak in his hair and grease on his face, but he turned and smiled as I walked on my way. I went to eat a meal at a diner beside the road, the waitress that served me looked like she was tired on her feet. I saw a picture on her name tag and I ask who it was, she said it is my young son who I really love. I pulled into a truck stop and saw a young man climbing into a semi-truck, he looked kind of tired but he started the engine up. He shifted the rig into gear and took off down the road. With a trailer in tow, he went to deliver another load. I have traveled all across this land, I have seen every kind of worker, people who make a living with their hands. People who work dead tired on their feet. People who have aching backs at the end of each and every day. I have yet to see them complain as I traveled on my way. We have grand tall buildings made of glass and steel, but these are not what makes America real. It is the average working person who scrapes and will sacrifice, to feed their families and build a better life. So the next time you see a banker a lawyer or a stock broker in a long black limousine, take a moment and wonder how they got the thing. For if it wasn't for the America that I saw, even with all of their money, they just might have to walk.

In a world gone mad I will sit on a hill. I will be a single candle in the night. When hope seems lost, I will help you find your way. When you are weighed down with burdens, I will give you a hand. When the storm rages all around I will be a beacon. When the road seems like it will never end, I will be a lamp along the way. I am only one soul, but sometimes one light is enough. When others see the light of hope in me, then perhaps their own light will shine. When we all join each of us a light, then we can dispel the darkness and shine brighter than the sun.

Some people believe in anything and some believe in nothing. Some hold somethings to be a sacred truth. For all of our failures and our expectations, we must understand that the world is not our friend. We ask why things are the way they are then we refuse to hear our fathers word. God is not complicated, God is not difficult, God simply wants us to obey his will. While people run around looking for answers, God has already given them all to us. So when we ask who God is, perhaps we should ask who we are?

The doors to stores are closed, the churches are silent. The streets are empty and for a moment we can breathe. Some people live in fear, but to others a revival has come around. Children are sitting at the table, and mama is cooking in the kitchen while they ask her questions. Dad has the family bible and reads the word of God to his family. Checkers and Scrabble have been dusted off and have replaced the internet. Books left on the shelf are opened and stories are read by all. We are forced to rediscover what technology has taken away. Home was once just a place to sleep and store your stuff, but now it is so much more. Families are learning that they can  be with each other and find happiness together. Things don't make you happy and distance doesn't make the heart grow fonder. Rediscovering home has become a new great adventure.

Water brought to a boil in a ceramic ***. A few tea bags into the boiling liquid. Spearmint, or Earl Grey, which ever you like. Green tea if you prefer but with a bit of a bitter after taste. Best served on a cold day, but suitable anytime when company happens by. A bit of honey for flavor or sugar if you must. Lemon if you choose, or Peppermint leaves for a little twist. A comfort to think of and to warm the soul. A conversation stater and a light refreshment with a scone. A versatile beverage if there ever was one.

In a dream I walked beyond the constraints of the physical world. I saw the heavens open up and watched the stars being born. I walked along a glowing path into another world, I looked back and saw myself sitting while I was moving without thinking about it. A dragon flew by and roared at me, a winged horse landed in front of me and nuzzled me. I saw a new world where there were no scars or imperfections, only clear air and pure water flowing from Mountains covered in pristine snow. I wandered backwards and forwards in time. I saw my own mistake and spoke with amazing people. Finally, I felt myself slowly drifting backwards into my own body. I once again was lost in my own pail existence. For a moment I was free to explore so many amazing things. I could see how one could want to be free of this world so that they could explore what is to come.

Sitting idly in a garden filled with stones. A Samurai looks at a single Cherry tree. He stares deeply into the Pink blossoms and listens to the gentle breezes blow. He has his hand on his sword and waits patiently. Finally in a single moment, a single blossom is torn free. With one motion of his hand he pulls glistening steel and cuts through the air. He captures the single blossom on the tip of his sword, then pulls it back close so that he can see. Truly magnificent he thinks to himself, how unique is this single flower that sits before me.

I walk on the edge of insanity. I grab at straws of hope. I have tried everything to solve my problems, but I cannot make them go away. Now I sit on the edge of the abyss and look into the eternal night. I look at the scars on my body, so  many times I have tried to feel alive. Now I am numb from the inside out, my mind can no longer focus. On the edge of life itself, perhaps I can finally find answers or at least know peace. The voices scream at me and I try to shut them out. I slip into a coma and at this point there is no doubt. I have tiptoed over the line and now it is just a wait and see. Will I wake up or will I end it all, the answer is no longer up to me.

I refuse to eat but once a day, I drink water and work out in every possible way. I choose my clothes carefully. I watch all of my friends. I look at magazines to see the latest trends. I pinch myself to see if I have an ounce of fat. I must not gain any weight, I cannot have that. I want to be accepted, so I aim to please. I try not to offend I think carefully before I speak. I stand straight and never slouch. I sleep just enough but not too much. I am trying to be what is expected of me. I want to be perfect you see.

My mind slips out of consciousness as I lay on the bed with a needle in my arm. Down down the rabbit hole I go, not knowing where the journey will end. I slip past the realm of reality and visions find me, nightmares to some and salvation to others, who can really know what they will find on a trip like this? I am lost in the black pit of my own soul. My demons fight and claw at me as I go on my journey. Each time I descend into the abyss, I take one step closer to the edge. How long can I continue down this path? How much longer can I live this way? No one really knows for sure, but I have let the Jeannie out of the bottle and now I am not sure I can put it back. So I will lay here as I become numb and cold, as my heart races and my breathing becomes shallow. I will fall into the darkness, in the hope that I can find an escape from myself.

The princes of the earth gather their wealth unto them. The kings muster their armies and curse the sky. The heathen rage and mock the heavens. They heap praises upon each other and seek to control the world. In all aspects of life they insert themselves. The prepare for a war that they will never fight and contrive plans that are already known. In secret chambers they speak in silent tongues, where angels listen and stand ready. Silver and Gold are prized as signs of power, but the truth is that their next breath is not their own. In a kingdom not made with hands, their creator sits and waits as they prepare. A life ends there a city falls here and yet the heathen rage on. They proclaim that they can save themselves when actually they can't change one whit of their destiny. In the end all they seek to try comes to naught, for who among mortal humans can stand against God?

I am one of many and I am no one. I am everywhere and I am no where. I am your neighbor, your brother, or your sister. I am responsible for no one yet I am accountable to everyone. I am a citizen and yet I am an individual. I have my own thoughts and feelings, yet I am surrounded by a group identity and idea. I am not sure where I came from and I am not sure where I will go. I only know that I am here and now. I am in need and I am giving. I am poor and I am rich. I am many things and I am one thing. What I will be next is not up to me, yet I must decide what I will become. All is a paradox and yet all is clear. If you understand me, then you are wise indeed. I am a human being and I matter. So give me the respect that I am due and know that I am your equal. I breathe the same air as you and drink the same water. I eat the same food so that I may exist. When you understand who I am then you will know who you are and then perhaps we will better understand each other and the world will begin to make sense again.

The future is not written, the end is not yet known. In a world that is confused and in turmoil like a boiling *** of water. We leap forward in knowledge but fall behind in our humanity. We isolate ourselves behind electronic walls, but give away more of who we are everyday. No one knows for sure from one day to the next what the next great idea will be or where the next catastrophe will come from. Humanity hangs by a thread at any given time. Ideologies compete for the spotlight and ideas push and pull at each other. Meanwhile, there are those who get left out. There masses of people who seem unable to pull the fruit from the tree of prosperity. Perhaps we should put life on hold and let our humanity catch up with our technology. When everyone understands how the new world works and we are all on the same page, then perhaps we can all leap forward together and in one fell swoop, we can all reach for the stars.

The shadows grow long as the days get cooler. My flowers have faded and lost their bright colors. The leaves on the trees have begun to change and their is a chill in the morning air. I walk in my garden and sit quietly on a bench, I hold a cup of hot tea in my hand. I close my eyes and hear laughter of children so far away. I see the silver shimmer of new frost on blades of grass. I feel the nip of the cold on my nose. I long for yesterday, when things were so much simpler, when we were children and life was easily explained away. Unfortunately the seasons change and now with white hair taking away the raven hues of my youth, I can only sit quietly and reflect as the unchanging seasons shift and I find frost in the garden of my life once again, as time is slowly slipping away from me.

Ol' Joe comes creeping around,with helping hands and a cheesy smile. He wants to make sure women are all well, so if he gets real close, he will give you a smell. Ol' Joe likes to sniff the air, he likes to hold his women tight and smell their hair. So people may say Joe is creepy, but mostly he is just sleepy. For you see Joe really does care, even though his memory is sometime not there. So be careful when Joe comes around, if he forgets you he may think it would be nice and old Joe might sniff you twice.

In a moss covered tower cut from Black stone, deep into the side of a mountain, where the tallest battlement reaches to the setting sun. On  parchment is written the fate of men, by an old wizard holding a pen made from a dragons bone. Dipped in ink, drawn from the darkest well of men's souls, the ancient conjuror lays down lines on pristine white paper. At the rising of the sun until the going down, he scribes what mortals lives must be. With the bony pen taken from the fiercest dragon, he writes of mortal misery. He writes remembrances of broken hearts and of lost loves, and of greed and betrayal he pushes the words on to the paper with a smile. From coming of dawn until setting sun, he writes and writes on a never ending parchment. Then in the night the stories he has written fade as do the lives of mortal men. As he rest in his forgotten castle, he has sewn the discord among men. He dreams of nothing but tomorrow, when for his wicked pleasure, he gets to use the Dragon Pen again.

Hydrogen and Oxygen come together and make water that is one of the forces of life. If a third part were added and the two became individual parts yet stayed in a liquid form, the oceans could be set on fire. Sunlight makes things grow and gives us warmth and light, focused into a single fine point it can destroy a diamond. The wind howls and blows in the ferocity of a storm that can twist large trees into toothpicks, yet the same force can fly a kite and make children laugh. One person can speak words and stir a nation to hate, another can speak words and make a nation seek peace. Nature and the human condition is still a mystery, even though we like to think we know what we are doing. There is still so much we don't understand.