We are all different, no two are exactly the same. If only in subtle difference in some cases, we are not replicas of each other. Our skin may be a different hue from our brother or sister, but underneath we all bleed red. We may not agree on everything but we have common hopes and dreams. Humanity may be diverse, but we live on the same world. So how can we divide ourselves so readily? Some have enough some have very little. Some have more than they need. Forcing one to give to another does not make things equal, only when we learn compassion will we willingly share. Humanity is not just the color of skin, it is a common bond between us all. Until we learn to live under one blue sky and one yellow sun in harmony, we will not have peace no matter what we look like.

There is a battle raging that often goes unseen. It is between the forces of heaven and hell, with lost souls as the causalities. The battle is not for everyone, but when God does give a call. He calls for a solider to fight and to give their all. The battle is not won by the swift or the strong. That is not what Gods wants in a solider at all. He seeks out someone who will be humble but have strength. He wants those who have conviction and will not easily become faint. He demands the up most loyalty and sometimes you may think you are fighting alone. In this you must be patient, because the greater plan cannot always be seen. God ask just do your part and leave the rest to him. Once you have fought your fight, you will see how the battle was won. Not by acts of savagery, with a sword or a gun. The fight was taken to the enemy by showing compassion and love, for the battle is the lords to fight from his heavenly throne above. With legions of angel armies at his beckon call, sometimes God simply needs a Christian solider, to come and answer the call.

One night in deep and earnest prayer, I asked God for a wish and he asked what it would be. I wished that God would help someone for me. I woke the next morning and stepped out of bed to find a hammer and nails laying by my shoes. I saw them and I was quiet confused. Then I heard a knock on  my door. I went to see who it was. My neighbor came by and told a horrible tale, of how a tree limb had cause her roof to fail. I said let me see what I can do. I picked up the hammer and nails and put on my shoes. I went up and in no time at all, the roof was fixed. She thanked me and I went on my way. When night fell once again, I again began to pray, I asked God who did you help today. He replied to me that I helped you, with a hammer and nails, I saw that it was true. I gave you what you needed to be my hands and feet and together we helped someone in need. With this in mind I will remember to be careful when asking God for a wish.

Killing is rampant in the streets. Protest are ending in violence. Starvation and poverty are rampant as a divide becomes greater by the day. Life is without answers and we refuse to follow the lessons of history. We will not look back in order to move forward. In all great civilizations, a defining point is reached. At the precipice of growth something must change. When the arch that holds up the foundations of the society finally gives under it's own weight. All that remains is to sift to the ruble and see what is left after the smoke clears. Governments and armies will disappear, while the remnants of those from the edges survive. Who knows what the breaking point will be, but if history is to be are teacher, it will not be long before it comes.

The House was a flutter with lawyers galore. Files were stacked from ceiling to floor. The media waited breathlessly for the gavel to fall, impeach them one impeach them all. Phone calls had been made and text messages had been sent. This is it this is the event. As Pelosi took the stage, all of their hopes and dreams would come true. Just waiting on the vote that all they could do. As the roll was called, one by one they said yea. The democrats had 218, they won the day. With all of the House Republicans in unified dissent. It was over, an on Impeachment went. From the floor of the house in a blink of an eye, on the Senate they thought we have this guy. While in the White House with not even a frown , President Trump was making a deal with the Chinese. When someone came in and said it was just on CNN, they passed the impeachment, this is the end. The President just looked with a coy smile, he said I think I will be golfing for a while. As the papers were cleared out of the House, the building became as quiet as a mouse. On to the Senate all in disarray, let us end the President let us do it today. Then what appeared to the Democrats dismay, but Mitch McConnell to get in their way. With his neatly placed glasses centered on his round face. he took all of the joy out of the place. Like a Grinch that stole Christmas, he said with a twitch, you will not impeach him, I am not giving an inch. So with stacks of papers and boxes of legal briefs, the impeachment charade came to an end. Another failed attempt and the Democrats had lost again.

Crisp leaves crackle beneath my feet. I walk barefoot on the cool earth and look at the Birds flying under the Umbrella of the sky. I think I know where I am, but I am not truly sure. I think I will ask the next Unicorn I see. I was in the land of reality a few miles back, but I took a wrong turn I think. For now it doesn't matter, I just want to watch the birds and see if one will hit the arch of the sky and fall to the earth. All the while my cares have gone as I walk along with a ****** who seems to have taken a fancy to my wooden leg. Who knew the day could be so interesting, yes I see the boundaries. I see the separation line as at last I have found the border of insanity and I think I will step over just for a bit.

We are here for a moment in the grand scheme of things. Like flowers of the field, we blossom then we fade in the heat of the day. For one glorious moment we bloom and show a brief bit of beauty. It is the reality of life that we must accept that we are only a small part of a greater thing. That beyond one existence lies another and infinitely more. We are just visiting one plain until we pass on to another.

Take the hair from that person and the voice from that one. Put them into my frame and take the smile from another one. A cut here a nip there and soon I am not what I was. I have redone the portrait that heaven painted in me, all for my own vanity.

If I were a book would you pick me up. Would you turn my pages gently with love? Perhaps you would thumb through my pages with wanton anticipation, as passion raced in your heart and your pulse quickened. You could grip me with terror and fear as the horrors of my words came alive in your soul. How ever you would hold me, I would be delighted and thrilled that you would want to read me and hold me close as you became lost in my pages, so that we could go on a journey together, where ever that journey might lead.

No good work can pay the debt, no self sacrifice can ever be enough. All of the prayers will avail you nothing. No thing of great price can purchase the eternity. Only through humility and profession of the one begotten, will you receive the gift that is given freely. Only when you are covered by the blood, will you receive salvation from the one who died for us all.

Now comes the parade of litigators with degrees in hand. The legal counsel that works behind the scenes. Deals are cut and cases are shuffled around the court house as lives are taken apart unless you can afford the price of justice. The grist wheel turns grinding the bodies into the system like so much pulp. The poor are the victims of the injustice that purports to be blind, while in truth it rushes to judgement and has empty beds to fill in the prisons that dot the landscape. The police roam the streets like so many big game hunters, each looking to fill their quota. While politicians line their pockets with funds derived from the misery they sell, filling jail beds and taking kickbacks from their corporate overlords who profit off of the labor in the prison factories, where slavery is legalized and condoned by the system that says it is blind and fair. While a person fights for the right to be recognized as a person again, the victim is forgotten by the system that does little to console those who have lost so much, with loved ones torn away by violence and ****** into jails or the grave leaving poverty and want in the wake of the process, thus repeating a never ending cycle that no one really wants to end, lest the truth be told that justice is truly blind, but not to the impartiality as one would suppose, but by the gold and silver that is heaped at the feet of lady justice that will corrupt judgment and look the other way for a price.

As an imperfect creature of like passion to my fellow humans, I proclaim that I am flawed. I proclaim that I like others have imperfect ideals and imperfect thoughts. I declare that my philosophies can evolve and change. I state that my core value of being helpful where I can remains in tact. I state that I am a work in progress, if I will cease to procrastinate. I say that in this life that I can only hope to do better today than yesterday. I proclaim that I will try to bring hope and not misery. I proclaim that we all fall short of our creator, whom ever we believe that to be. I proclaim that in the end, I shall endeavor to tip the scales for the good and not the ill and that is the best I can promise to do.

The world is being torn apart like a jigsaw puzzle thrown out of the box by an angry child. A few are trying to overcome the many by putting them inside a cage. It is if they want chaos instead of order. Trying to contain a free thing, they forget that there are consequences for their actions. They are attempting to push a square stone up a hill only to have it slide backwards again and again. They keep trying the same foolish thing expecting to receive a different results. Despite their best efforts, they will inevitably fail. You cannot control that which doesn't wish to be controlled. It always ends in tragedy that will be recorded by a poet or writer in a Sonnet that will soon be dismissed as a fantasy, while another group finds a new way to fail at what has been tried before. Leaving a shattered world in their wake for others to piece back together.

Monolithic trees standing silent as if frozen by time. Stone giants rising into the sky, reaching for something that I cannot see. Petrified remembrances of a time long past. A connection to what once was and may never be again. Animals run among the monuments and birds light upon their frozen limbs. The sun reflects off of their crystalline bark as I walk among them. So much is preserved and so much is forgotten, in the stone forest where petrified trees wait quietly for another day to pass.

I was called a Rose and the fairest among ten thousand. I was ask how much I loved you and I open my arms wide. I ached so much to know you that I gave you all I had. With each stripe and drop of blood I tried to express my love for you. Then when the mortal coil quietly slipped away and set my spirit free. I gave my life to show you how much you mean to me.

Shades wander aimlessly here and there looking for a place to exist. The ghostly forms of lives once lived without meaning. The only thing that concerned them was themselves. Now as wisp of what was they wander between the lines of reality, not having a form or purpose, simply wanting to exist again, so that they might undo the selfish things that lead them to their current state of existence .

Let me live as I see fit as long as I do not deprive you of what you believe. Care about what happens to me, even if we do not always agree. Remember that we are all humans and children of humanity. Even if we live separate lives, at let us live in peace. Do not oppress me and I will not learn to hate you. Do not impose what you believe on me and I will try not to preach to you. Perhaps if we can do these things, then we can begin to see, that we are not different after then maybe you can abide with me.

Bang one goes down, Bang another home boy hits the ground. Pop, Pop, Pop goes the chopper, cutting down the enemy for what he did to my brother. Life in the street is about banging for the buck. You can get money if you have a lot of luck. Keeping it on the down low, that is how the street life has to go. You live by the law of the AK and the 9, they are the only ones you can trust when you choose this life. Making your way by the kilo and the gram, sometimes you run, and sometimes you must make a stand. Keeping it real, in the belly of the beast, looking around every corner for the police. Rat tat tat, someone is trying to end your life. You in the street hustling, trying to provide for you kid and your wife. Where does this nightmare end, if you aren't really lucky, in the grave yard or the Penn. .

When my humanity is forgotten and I don't seem to mind doing what feels good. When I lose my inhibitions and forget the teachings of wrong and right. When I forsake what is moral for what is wanted. When I give the devil his chance to play. When I become something wickedly playful, or uncaringly cruel. That is the darker side of me.

If I were to chance upon God and he would sit for a while. I would buy him a drink, just like a regular guy. I hear he is partial to wine, or at least that's what the  bible says . He even changed the water into some, so the story goes. I would not care what it cost, for it would be a once in a life time chance. To sit down with the all mighty and have a chat over a few drinks. I am not sure what I would ask first, but then what could I  really say. I mean he knows what your thinking, so perhaps we would just drink. Then I would sit quietly and listen to what he had to say and perhaps I would see he is quiet a good fellow, if I could buy God a drink.

People rage and rant at each other. Civility has disappeared and has been replaced with anger. We advance so rapidly that we have lost touch with each other. We used to sit and talk for hours, now we tweet and post. In short blurbs and emogies we try to communicate, but we really are not saying anything. Our barrier used to be our language, now it is not trying to understand each other at all. We isolate ourselves and cultivate followers instead of life long friends. Though our social circles may have been small, at least we knew we could rely on each other. Now we do not know who our neighbors are and our own family has become a strange to us. We fight with each other and fight with ourselves. The world is coming apart at the seams. Perhaps it would be better if all the technology went on a vacation and peace were given a chance again.

Walking among the white Lilies that bloom with the golden centers. Standing on the blue grass among the purple Roses, I see the Gold fish singing in the green water as Humming birds keep time. I look at the mushrooms upon which the fairies sit playing grass flutes, made from long stems taken from the flower bed. The wind blows through the Yellow Bells that ring in harmony. The Willow tree filled with chimes ****** and clink to make beautiful sound. The Morning Glories shudder and dance as they shake off the first dew of the day. The suns shine down through the canopy of Oak trees that sway and shake. Harmony is achieved as I sit in my fantasy garden of make believe.

The gardens in my castle are filled with all kind of exotic flowers. The water from my fountains is purer than a new mountain snow. I am adored by all who know me and I can do no wrong. My touch can turned the gloomiest frown into a joyful smile. I know what each person needs and can give their wish with no effort at all. All of my foes succumb to my graces and refuse to fight. Such is the wonder of the imagined life.

Slash the parchment, cut the scroll, open up the words and let them bleed from your pen. Place your feelings into letters that form words, dispense your passion onto paper. Write down what troubles your heart. Cut the lines into the grains of eternity with your steely pen. Cut the paper and let it be wounded for your art. Inflict your pain, sorrow and joy for others to read. Let your life be poetry, words given from your heart.

Against oppression will you stand with me? Against the face of injustice will you stand with me.?Under the fear of violence will you stand with me? In all things right and just will you stand with me? Will you stand with me to make a better world? With you stand with me to end fear and hate? Will you stand with me before it becomes too late? Only when you stand with me can a difference be made. Only when we stand together will our voices be heard. In unity and in protest against that which we see as unjust. Standing up and doing what we must. Though we risk our lives and fortunes, in God we will trust. To stand up together and do what we must. Will you stand with me?

Where is Gods voice, and why is he silent. Why are there no whispers or convictions of the soul. I ask this of heaven and waited for an answer, but nothing was forth coming. I pleaded for understanding and sought wisdom, but still all was quiet. In personal reflection and intensive study, I still could find no answer. Then when it seemed that no more could I do, I sat quietly and listened. In that moment, I heard a voice inside of me. I ask God is that you. The voice said yes. Filled with so many questions, I wanted to know where God had been, then I felt the spirit wash over me and I looked around. I saw birds flying and heard them singing, I heard the water running and saw the golden sunlight shining through the trees. I began to cry and I understood why the heavens were quiet, God had been busy taking care of me.

Spread over the throne of God covering the mercy seat, Angels pronounce the glory of God. In storms of life, the wings of angels are spread over the innocent and the lost to protect them from the fiery darts of the enemy. When the pilgrim soul is tired, angels spread their wings and lift up the burdens of life. In occasions where there is worry and strife, angels stand with wings spread, ready to heed the prayers of the faithful and to heed the masters call.

There is a place where all sorrow goes. Where the tears of the despondent eventually flow. A river devoid of a single living thing. The river of tears that is cried each and every day. There is no joy in these waters, only salty remembrance. Things of loss and utter sadness can be found there. So if you ever immerse yourself in the waters that flow with each persons misery, just remember that you will not feel rejuvenated when you come out, but perhaps you will leave some of your sorrow behind, and the river of tears will take it far from you as it flows away with the tears you have cried.

You are worth more than you know. You are capable of more than you believe. You can become what you desire, though perhaps not in the way you think. A dream should not be neglected, it should be pursued and nurtured. You should never settle for less than your worth nor should you let others tell what your value is.

Brother is now against sister. Friend is against friends. For so long we fought for equality, now it is all at an end. One life matters more than another as nothing makes any sense. Laws are flaunted and disregarded for anarchy. This has replaced civility and decency. Those who once were down with the struggle, now only look out for themselves. Their ideals have been compromised for gold and their morals have been placed on dusty shelves. Where are the color lines drawn that once were a blur. They have been redrawn by those who fought to erase them and the sacrifices of the past have been lost.

Spring comes and the sun shines down. Green leaves sprout on the trees. We finish our schooling and begin to live life only to find that the days are like a vapor. In a moment what once seemed like an eternity has become a twinkle of an eye. Time hasn't moved faster or slower, only our perception of it has changed.

I look beyond the veil of the mortal plain. I look into the darkness where spirits reign. I see the tumultuous churning of emotions wreaking havoc on the world of the living. I step beyond myself and wander between worlds.  I see flashes of lightning but hear no sound. I feel the universe quake and see heavenly bodies shaken. The balances of cosmic harmony have been tipped to far in one direction. I begin to shiver as a cloud of chaos surrounds me. Then in a flash, a force of spiritual energy shoves me backwards into my own place. I awaken shaken to my core. The disharmony is simply with in my own self and I am at the center of a spiritual storm.

I see you walking towards me in the evening light. My face is covered in sweat from my long day of work. My arms ache and my back is stiff, but all of that is forgotten. I see a vision of love walking towards my heart. Your beauty is fairer than the flowers of a thousand hills. Your laughter is sweeter than the music of a morning song bird. I work and labor to know you and for just one moment of your time. I would give up one whole year of my mortal life. As you come close to kiss me, I know that somewhere above, Heaven is missing one of it's angles, because you are a vision of love.

Shy and sheltered, kept in seclusion. Waiting on the moment for the sun to shine on her. Slowly nurtured and guided with the wisdom of loving hands. A special Orchid is pruned and watered until she is ready to blossom. With petals as gentle as fine silk, but with strength of the Willow tree. Able to bend and flex in the worst of storms. A daughter is a beautiful flower, and when that flower blooms, she is a marvelous thing to behold indeed.

When the rain falls on the earth, God is crying for his children. Sometimes his tears sweep over and wash away things. Some things are wicked and some are not. In the heartbroken state, the tears fall from heaven. Then when there are no more tears to be cried, the rain will stop and a dry spell will come. In that time, we ask why we suffer, but in truth our sorrowful ways has caused God to have no more tears, and the rain that gives life to cease, so we are the cause of our own fates.

If there were no America, freedom would not ring. If it was never born, there would be no from sea to shining sea. If there were no America, the world would be ruled by despots and monarchies. If there were no America, millions would have died in vain. If there were no America, oppression would be the law of the land. If there were no America, things would be really bad. All of the freedoms that millions of people hold dear, would have never been imagined, if America were not here. So to those who hate the idea of the land of the free and the home of the brave, live one year in another place and see what they crave. While there are many other lands, there is not nor will there ever be, a place like America, where people are truly free.

If I could return to my home, the place of my childhood. What would the happy stolen moments be worth? Could I recapture the innocence lost, would I ever change history's course? I am unsure what would be the outcome on a grander scheme of things. I just know that returning to a simpler time, would be a true treasure to me.

Faint light shines through ice hanging from the trees. Like diamonds it sparkles and twinkles. Streaks of silver show through and glisten in the misty air. Like precious treasure that brings subtle beauty if only for a little while. The world sleeps as fires burn bright inside. The ice must come to cleanse the world of the old and renew the life for spring to come and give rebirth. Thus the ice is a treasure indeed.

The spirit of God cannot be quenched, but the physical world could not withstand it. It is not as physical fire but yet it consumes. It purges sin and convicts the sinner of their unholy ways. To those who receive the forgiveness, it refines their soul like precious silver or gold, but to those who reject the ways of God, it destroys them with guilt and consumes them from with in until there is nothing left of who they were.

Platitudes from a silver tongue sooth the worries. High minded promise fill the hearts of many. Things that seem bright are often found empty. Hollow words that promise everything but deliver nothing. So many pretty things that entice and please the ear. Until the platitudes fail and the plan unravels. Then the harsh truth becomes clear that the words are empty after all.

Tides are rising and crashing against the edifices of reality, the winds of fate are shifting. Turmoil is settling as the tensions ease. New ideas are being birthed as the old fades into history. As a forest sheds it's leaves to make way for new greenery in the spring and the old decomposes into fertile soil for the new growth. So the world is changing, with hope for the betterment and not the worse. The old regimes are being dismantled and old ideals of selfishness are fracturing. The new and the hungry long to stretch their wings. With new ideals and ways of making a better world not yet imagined, they rush forward to forge a better tomorrow. Giving a feeling of hope as things slowly turn back and change becomes a reality.

I was going to work out at 7 am, but I hit the snooze 10 times so I think that qualifies as something. I didn't get out of bed until noon, then ate left over pizza for brunch. I need to clean out the fridge, but I just won't open it for a while. My clothes are clean but in a unsorted pile, I would separate them, but the static cling makes my skin itch. I would like to be in a relationship, but then I would have to commit to something. At this point, I can barley commit to watch a t.v. series. I know I should be more concerned about a whole host of things, but right now I think I will just put on my fuzzy slippers and go out and buy some more beer.

The night is still but I am restless. My heart is an open wound. I am devoid of passion and empty of desire. I have been undone by you leaving me. I toss and turn praying for morning to come. I wish again for your touch and to hear you breathe in the night. My bed is no longer a place of rest, but of endless longing, a longing for love.

To heaven I plead asking for comfort. In misery I call out with lamentation. I see those who persecute me and take away my joy, I call to the watchers of the lord. In the hour of temptation, let heaven hear my pleas. In the night watch when fear comes to over take me, let the sentry be set about me that my peace shall not leave me. Oh lord set your angels to watch over me.

What ever you need, we have the fix. See your doctor and get it quick. A potion for this and a pill for that. Magic in a bottle, that is where it is at. Anxiety in your children, we can take that away. What ever happened to letting kids just run and play. Doses of tranquility in gel cap form. What used to be for the sick and old is now the daily norm. We have fallen victim to an epidemic of addiction. They just want to legally make us a drug nation.

The sun has made it's journey from the east unto the west. I have labored all of the day now I take my rest. With all of my hard work behind me, I feel the cool of the night. I see the lights of my home and let my spirit rise in delight. Like a Moth ascending to the light of a shimmering moon, my soul leaps towards what waits on me as the sun goes down too soon. The simply joys of children's laughter and a loving wife's caress. These are the things that give my weariness rest. So as I let go of my cares and let my burdens melt away. I find joy and peace at the end of the day.

When tears stain the ground and the salt settles in the earth, seeds will lie still in the ground. The sorrow of a broken heart will lay heavy in the air. Many will long for spring to return, but sorrow lingers as the cold of winter. Love longed for fails to return and a dark shadow blocks out the sun. No flowers will grown or bud until the bleakness has been lifted. Until then I will sit in longing, waiting for the sun to shine again so that I can smell the sweet fragrance of gardens full of blossoms.

Which people are real, can anyone really tell. Are they the ones we see on our TV's that feign drama and Botox injected smiles. Are real people the ones we see in the check out line. Waiting impatiently for an overworked cashier to ring up their over priced goods. Who are real people, where can we find them. Must we go to a far off land where war and poverty exist like a scene out of some horror show? Perhaps the answer is all of this and none of it. In a way these people are real at least to themselves and when they take off the mask behind which they hide, the real people that they become are revealed. Only those in their inner circles see the truth. For reality is what we perceive, and people are real in their existence, but they play a charade for others so we only see what they want us to believe is real.

Not everyday will be a good one and not every person is a friend. There will be potholes in the road you travel and things will not always go your way. Some days there will be clouds and rain, but not all cloudy days are bad and sometimes rain is a good thing Life will test our resolve through all of these things, there is no pass or fail just a multiple choice test. We must sometimes take test over, until we get the answer right. It takes some longer than others, but in the end we all must pass for ourselves.

I am an idea that takes hold in the heart of one person. I am the desire to be free from oppression. I am the need to succeed and prosper. I am the loyal solider who holds the banner of the cause even when it seems that it is lost. I am the one who teaches another what they do not know. I am the voice of reason in the world of insanity. I am a force of one person, but I am the ideal that lives in many.