When no one is different and we all are treated the same. When everyone has the same chances. When there is no hunger or want and no one has more than another. When our children play safely with each other and there is no separation or division between us. When one person does not judge another and no one oppresses another, perhaps then we will be living in a perfect world.

Like a serpent, so is the tongue when it is not tied down tight. It stings like a Scorpion and bites like the venom of a Viper. It cuts like a knife made of Obsidian and can splint the bone from the marrow. It feeds the fire of rumors and cannot be easily quenched. It can destroy lives and bring wars to fruition with only fables. So beware the tongue and all of it's devices, because it can be the purveyor of destruction and will even turn on the one who lets it loose.

They cry about injustice but then want to persecute the rest of us. They say they don't have enough, then they destroy others property. They demand that the government give them equality , but then try to take away what makes us free. Civil rights are only for those who are woke, it might be funny but it isn't a joke. Our leaders aren't what they used to be, they are now friends of tyrany. If we don't say what they want to hear, then they surpress free speech everywhere. Without one nation under God we are divided. So the die is cast it has been decided. Through lies and subversion they have cut down the tree of liberty. You can only be right if you believe what they say. Free will has been taken away. Can it get worse, yeah you bet! Tell me are you WOKE yet?

Drawn between pages one and two, making the social media rage and angrily stew. Pulled apart in the internet, sectioned piece by piece. Thus goes the crucifixion of my character with every single tweet. Posting to face book rocks the internet. Oh but their not done tormenting me yet. All of the pages rave about what was I said, your not being berated unless your misquoted at least ten times, but not to worry your cover shot will be just fine. Now days with fame and fortune what is in a name, just be forced to the cyber walk of shame. You will be a star and obtain riches galore, just because your crucified as someone's little *****.

Rich spice embodiment of fullness and flavor of enhancement. Giver of knowledge revered aged teacher. Both give flavor to life. Both can turn the ordinary into the extraordinary. One brings out the fullness of food, the other brings out the best in their student. The revered word carries a dual meaning, but both are intertwined. To know both is to know a unique experience. To become both is to become enriched while enriching others. A person can be as the spice, seeing the potential in another then adding a little something extra to help that person achieve and become better. This makes the individual both the spice and a teacher, thus a Sage.

Jumping and diving over rocks in a struggle for life. Magnificent creatures seeking to return to their place of birth. Noble creatures of bright and splendid colors fighting against the force of nature itself. Swimming to exhaustion, driven by some unseen force. From the cold waters of far inland rivers to deep oceans then back again. A course of life that is planned out by generations of selection through natures process of survival. Each fish must run it's course and finish where it started in order for it's species to survive.

The sun is setting and doors are closing behind me. One road I have walked is worn out and I am tired. Soon the horizon will begin to fade behind me and I will look at another direction. Seeking a new path is never easy, but there comes a point when you know it is the right thing. The task you had to do are now in the hands of others and they will do just fine. So with a sense of new purpose, I see to see new places and start a new journey in my life.

Written through the spirit, given to men and women. A guide book to show us the way. A letter of encouragement, a lesson in history and a showing of his grace. This is the word given of God, but so often we fail to listen.

I met an old man on a journey one day. I asked him where he was going and he asked me where I had been. I said that I came from my home and now business called me away, he said that he was heading home to stay. He asked where my home was, and I told him my tale. I spoke of a quiet little cottage clustered quietly by a meadow. I spoke of a loving wife and the child I had left behind. He then told me his home was similar to mine. He said he too lived in a cottage, though it was not really a home. He said it sat beside a meadow for many years you know. He said there he would take his rest, but little joy could be found. He said his wife had passed away and his child had long since left. Now he sits alone in his chair, silently waiting on his death. What a sad tale I thought, that the old man should tell. I asked how he came to be in such a state, if he didn't care for me to pry. He looked over at me and I saw something familiar in his eyes. He simply said that he spent a lot of time on the road, often gone for days. That was all he said as we parted our ways. I then looked back to see where he had gone, but all I saw were rustling leaves where I thought the old man had been. I then stopped to pause and think did this really happen, or was it a dream of what could be or might have already been?

Jazz belts out of a smoky club, as people dance outside on the street. Neon lights flash and displace the stars. The air is filled with the smell of Creole cooking as the atmosphere is alive with electricity. Old buildings adorn the streets, as ancient Oak trees adorned with Spanish moss stand as witness to all that goes on. The party goes on through the night and people revel in mirth and history of an old city that is filled with history and southern life. A flavor of many cultures that make New Orleans a wondrous place indeed.

If I had a nickel for every promise that I was made. I would be able to buy enough bubble gum to supply all of Americas 3rd grade. All of the political promises that never come true. All of the nonsense promises that we are told. All are worth wooden nickels that we can never spend. So if I had a nickel for every promise made, I just might be a rich man.

One nation under God is no longer the plan. We will fix it ourselves, we no longer need a divine hand. Our government will give us everything, but will leave us with nothing. Just like sheep to the shearing we quietly go along. The heathen have infected the halls of power, now America is divided, there is no room for compromise. They say we have a mountain to climb, but in truth we are lost in a desert. Our moral compass is broken and it cannot get a reset. The seeds of dissension are being planted at every turn. It is no longer about helping, but it is about what is in it for me. United we might still stand but divided from God and each other, we will surely fall.

To walk across the nations, to enter long forgotten paths. To stop life and just go  for a while. Taking in new experiences from one coast to next, finding out what America is all about. From a settled life of comfort and security, to take to wanderlust and walk unafraid. Into the highest mountains and across lonely plains, what an adventure that would be. Though you might not know any soul as you enter the great unknown, to be a sojourner is to come to know yourself. For you must leave your own comfort zone and open up to others. Giving the American experience a chance. When you have embraced new ideas, and grown a bit inside. Then a sojourner you will no longer be. For you will have new friends and experiences upon which to call. To become a more complete person and to discover what truly lives inside of yourself.

If you are of a mind to dig yourself a hole, there are a few things you can do. The first is to tell your wife or girlfriend you haven't been listening to a thing they said. If this doesn't put you deep enough in the ground then here is another tip. Stay gone on a special day with your buddies on a unannounced trip Any birthday or anniversary will do. This will dig you in really deep, at least a foot or two and you will need somewhere else to sleep . If that still isn't deep enough and you want to be buried deep. Just tell the truth about anything involving what she wears or eats. Does this dress look ok, no it is too tight, or when you go out to eat just ask her why you ordered that and she will hear you think I look fat. This should put you truly deep, well inside a cave. A place so dark and deep, you will need a flashlight just to see. So when you decide a hole is what you need. Just remember the advice I have given, and give it another read. For truth be told, digging the hole is not so hard. It is when you must crawl out again, that your real work will start.

Surrender to the inner self and open the minds eye. Meditate quietly on a serene place. Release your physical bonds and let the mind wander. Look to the serenity and beyond your place of focus. See all that is possible and receive ideas from the open spaces beyond the restraints of the physical world. Ascend to the heavens and see the birth of a new star and the ending of an old one. Cry for the beauty of both, realizing that their span of life is only a small part of the fabric of creation as you wander among celestial bodies. You are a free spirit taking flight and discovering secrets that lay hidden from those to focused on the physical world and it's trappings to under stand the reality of what is waiting for those who are willing to seek it out.

I stopped on the side of the road today and helped a young woman change her tire. Yesterday I gave a lost couple directions so that they could find their destination. Through out my life I have stopped to lend a hand, I have offered directions or just listened to the troubles of a friend. Through all of the things I have done, the person I helped will never realize that I gave them my most precious gift, which is a moment of my time. For time only moves forward, it does not move back. Once it is gone you cannot buy anymore. Unlike money which you can earn or things which you can use money to buy, my time is the most precious thing I have to give and it is what I give freely to make simple changes in ordinary everyday lives.

I am weary and tired of the battle. Everything that I try to save seems lost to me. The emptiness sometimes makes me feel like an echo of myself. My soul is shattered into pieces. Doubt becomes my constant companion and I simply lose the strength to go on. In times of utter darkness, comfort is not often easy to find. So I must look for purpose in order to renew my strength. Looking with in myself, I see what I was born for. I see the path that I have walked and the battle scars that cut deeply into my heart. In these moments I examine my own soul and put the pieces back together. I then look or another who feels as I do and try to help them mend as well, thus restoring my own sense of purpose and helping my own soul to heal.

Putting on red heels and traversing a mile of a journey, doesn't equate to what a woman feels. When she is taken for granted and berated of her worth. No sacrifice a man can make of his humility or time can undo the pain she feels. All that you can do is make others aware and offer a helping hand. Then do all in your power to make sure abuse never happens again.

The wealth of the earth has been plundered by only a few. The many have suffered while others profit from their misery. In all things there are ways to accomplish life without the destruction and scarring of our world. Waste that is produced can be turned into fuel, and used to replenish the ground. Food can be grown in abundance so that no one need starve. If we stand together and demand a change, then we can turn the tide of destruction that has been wrought on us. The many will cease to suffer and the few will have enough, but will live in harmony with the planet that has made them rich. So let us roll up or sleeves and begin to renew our efforts to bring harmony and equilibrium to all life and in doing so, we can begin reclaiming our world.

When there is no light, shine forth. When there is apathy, show caring for another. When there is a famine, be bread to the hungry soul. When despair is rampant, inspire someone. When there is a drought of faith, be a well spring of hope.

Cut  bleeding and wounded deep. My heart bears the marks of yet another broken promise. Though I am worn and weary, I will not give up hope. I have fought this battle before and I will live to fight another day. In matters of love I am often wounded and left on the field for dead. It seems that I am open to betrayal because I love so deeply. With each heart break I have new battle scars to give testament to my attempt of trying to find  a lasting love. So in the light of a new day, I will bind my emotional wounds. I will patch up the holes left in my life and move forward, bearing the battle scars to remind me that love is not without sacrifice and that it is worth the fight as I go on looking for love another day.

I am a sinner, born of lust. I am not a saint, in that you can trust. From the moment that I became flesh and breathed in air, I was stained with sin from beginning until I cried. I live in a mortal vessel, I am as all men. I am prone to weakness and fear. I am never without sin. Only in the spirit can I achieve a state of grace, but for the most part I am a sinner each and every day.

Denied what is rightfully mine, treated like I do not exist. Called a crazy *****, ignored when I complain. Treated like a used pair of shoes, berated to my kids. There is only so much you can stand. When all else has failed, there is only one option left. Take matters into my own hands. Without anyone knowing, I begin to lay out a plan. I learn how to hide in the open, and follow his every move. Taking notes of all that he does, and waiting for a chance to strike. I plot and scheme to take back my life I wait with great patience and care. In one instances a plan falls into place. He never saw it coming, oh to see the look on his face. The photos arrived at his new wife's office. The IRS gave him a call and wouldn't you know it but his credit has been canceled with just a single call. He was only in the store for a few moment's but he left a kid in the car. He comes out to a fire truck and police, I wonder just how expensive those car windows are. He is hauled away in hand cuff's, oh my isn't that a switch. Now I have started fighting back, who is the crazy *****?

I picked up a bunch of stones laying around and put them in a pile. I then dug up some uneven ground and began laying the stones down. I worked tirelessly for years building a path. Until I had run out of stones and my strength was spent. Then as I sat down, I happened to look back. I saw others gathering stone and walking on my path. Though they did not see me as they walked past. I watched them laying their own stones on my created path.

An emotional spear was ****** into me the day you walked away from us. Now I sit looking for strands of sanity to bind up the wound you inflicted upon me. Still going crazy all hours of the day and night, I cannot fill the void you left in me. Try as I might I cannot put back the thing you took with you as I try to mend the hole you left in my soul.

The sky is many colors and the sun is shining bright. All things are peaceful and all the wars are quiet. Love has replaced hate and tolerance has taken the place of dissent. All people can sit together and talk in the same place. Differences are encouraged and not thought of as something that makes us week. All points of view are listened to and we can agree to disagree. Hunger has been replaced with plenty and children can play instead of having to hide in fear. We are all joined as one humanity under a rainbow sky.

When you kneel to pray, forget me not. When you are in times of joy, forget me not. When you are sad and feeling lonely, forget me not. When you are seeking answers, forget me not. When you have lost all hope, forget me not. In all things remember me, for I am with you always, so please forget me not.

I canceled all of his credit cards, and put toothpaste in his best shoes. I burned our wedding pictures along with most of his clothes. I spray painted his Mercedes Benz, I think Pink and Purple are really hot. I deleted his cellphone numbers and posted his work address online. I signed him up for the do call list and all in record time. I sent his family all of the pictures from his lap top and posted them on You Tube. I called the IRS and said his taxes are over due. I know I might have over done it, but he is going to learn. Never leave  a woman scorned lest you feel the burn .

Riding high on a selected blend. A potent herb from Afghanistan. Smiling at the acoustic sounds from an island band, while you partake of something from your Jamaican friends. Letting your imagination run wild, you see a sparkling blade. You just look in awe as it glistens and sways. You pick it up and it feels lighter than air, you swing it wildly with little care. Then you get it a little too close, and suddenly your missing the tip of your nose. You go awesome as your brain attempts to register the pain, fighting to get you the message, through a stoner's haze. Then it begins to hurt and you fumble the sword with a jittery ****. The blade is bobbled and tossed about, then it becomes quite clear, as it clangs to the floor, dude did I cut off my ear?

Water flows freely and grace is abundant. The fountain rushes forth with crystal water. Clear and pure from beginning to end. It holds healing and brings redemption. Let all who will partake freely of the healing waters. Be cleansed and made whole by the flow. No wicked thing can come near, for it will be washed away. As the snow flees from the warmth of the sun, so does wickedness depart from the everlasting flow of water from the crystal fountain.

I asked a question as I cried to the heavens and wanted to know where God was. In a moment of trial and turmoil I felt as if I was alone. As I walked down the street, the wind blew up and threw dust into my face. I turned away and looked across the street where I saw a young woman helping an old man get into a car. As I walked forward, in despair, I came to a street corner where I saw a man with a sign. Expecting to be asked for money, I started to cross the street only to be cut off by a car. As I turned back, the man turned towards me and his sign said free meal come inside. I walked around a corner and saw children playing hop scotch outside of a store. The owner came out and I thought he would angrily run them away. Instead he asked them if he could take a turn then offered them each a piece of candy. As my heart broke the sun faded and the moon shone down through a clear night sky and as I approached my own home, a t.v. in a store window blared out at me, the man on the television said I am here. As he preached from scriptures he said words from God letting me know that he was everywhere. In each act of kindness and in all things good, he is there.

There is no peace on earth and we have lost good will towards men. We only want to hoard up wealth and to get more than we give. The cheer has gone out of our lives and we find no joy within. Would someone tell me where Christmas is, can anybody answer me?

Kick the ball, pass the ball, catch the ball, the simplest of definitions. All sports have the basic underpinnings. We watch to be inspired, we watch to be entertained. We get a thrill from the excitement and drama that comes from the team we love winning or losing it all. Until now, there has been sports, but no longer is this the case. The sacred arena has been turned into a political theater littered with nay Sayers and contrived outrage. 24/7 in a news cycle, we succumb to the volatile nature of confrontation. Our national pastime, our favorite hoops shooter or the fastest running back was our escape. Now millionaires not content with fame and large sums of money, must pollute the sports we love with their fake outrage. Sixty minuets in a football game or 3 hours in a baseball arena. One hour on a basketball court or a few periods on center ice. Hundreds of hours pass in a month where a person can make a statement, but when they defile the sports we love, then truly there is no game, just a sad rendition of failed lives that only want attention they feel they cannot get anywhere else.

Clang goes the wrought iron gate as I step inside the fortress where my fate awaits me. Behind me is the life I knew, before me is uncertainty and conformity. All aspects of my life are regimented from now on, my life is no longer my own. I lost that right when I hurt someone else, all for my selfishness. Now as I see the specters of half humans hovering around me, I come to see the faces of those that I hurt that will haunt me. I want to hide from the guilt that is inside of me, but the ghost of the past won't let me. As I walk into my new home eight feet by eleven feet is what I now call my own. A space reserved for people like me, behind an iron curtain that is drawn behind me.

Down a dry dirt road, an old house sits beside a knotted Oak Tree. Children in overalls with bare feet run and play. An old tire swing sits tied to I Willow tree branch. It has seen better days having been swung in a thousand times. Around a bend in the old road, sits a string of mail boxes, visited each day by the mail carrier, he always has time to stop and chew the fat a while with the old widow folk before going back on his way. Beyond that there is an old iron clad bridge where people go to sit and talk, or to cast a line in the river as it flows slowly by. All of this is off the secondary highway, down rural route 2 a dusty memory in my mind.

Placation of the masses, that is the job of spin. Being the face of the bureaucracy, a focal point. Easy on the eyes, soft spoken in words. Not of harsh temperament, but long suffering of angry people. Able to turn a phrase without thinking about why it is being done. Speaking in critical terms, but not being direct to question others. Simply working with inferences of what you want others to think. Such is the way of the useful idiot, who lives through political speak.

Oh to dance on Green meadows and bask in the sun while my silver mane blows in the wind. My mighty horn proclaiming my dominion over all that I survey, in a kingdom full of fairies and elves. The trees full of sprites playing tricks on unsuspecting travelers while I run as fast as my hooves will carry me. In a place where the water is clear and taste like Strawberries one day and honey the next. Oh how I would love to be a Unicorn living in such a mystic land.

Here she comes hell in heels. Five foot ten with raven locks. She makes all of the boys come to a stop. Ample cleavage busting from her tailored dress, a tight waist and hips that rock. Swaying back and forth like a Willow in the wind, just one kiss from her dark red lips could spell your end. Perfume so subtle you barley know it's there. Then it puts you in a trance and you lose all will to care. She toys with you then cuts you loose. Her stare can melt ice from across the room. What ever man desires a real *** kitten. Be careful that you don't fall prey to the *****.

Turning on my bed, dripping wet in sweat. My nightmares are coming true. One more night of restless sleep as the dawn finally breaks. I want this to end but I don't know how it can. I look in the mirror with blood shot eyes as I enter another day without rest. I try to exercise my past, but it is not so easy. The guilt of many failures weighs heavy on my soul. I can't find any peace even in pills and drink. So night after night go on fighting my demons hoping that they will not win.

Hanging the Mistletoe, decking the tree. Getting a shopping list or 3. Hurrying to get all of the gifts, forgetting what the season really means. All of the hustle and pomp, overlooks the thankfulness that we should show. Taking a few moments to be kind to our fellow man. This is what holidays should truly mean.

Sitting in buildings of marble and glass peering at a farmer trying to plant a seed. From ivory towers and the seats of power, they strain and twist their brows. Looking over the farmers shoulder should he put too many seed in a row. With law degrees from prestigious universities, they bark orders and spit out edicts as though we were peasants. With no one to check their power, they lock up honest citizens and throw away the key, for daring to pick up a lost Eagles feather. In their world they pose as God raining down edicts and fiery sermons on how the average person should live, all the while demanding blind obedience under pain of over bearing regulation that can bankrupt even the richest of men. While all the time they are yet human and when one of the elites should stumble and make a mistake, there is no accountability no matter the damage that is done or the lives that are ruined, while rivers run yellow with waste. They toast themselves as being concerned and all knowing. They are the EPA.

When I am weary from the journey, I will lean on the cross. When the road becomes rocky, I will lean on the cross. When the battle seems hopeless, I will lean on the cross. When the enemy seems unstoppable, I will lean on the cross. When I can find support no where else, I will lean on the cross. Until I draw my last breath, I will lean on the cross.

Oh colorful song bird that whistles and chirps with little in the way of a care. How I do envy you and all that you must not worry for. To some you seem so simple, yet you are more clever than they know. You need only exist and be as part of nature. Everything is given to you and many scorn this, because it seems too easy you see. To be born with a song and all that you shall need to know, a simple yet wise existence. To fly around and flutter, until it is time to move on to warmer parts of the world. Then when the earth turns, you know to move again and return back to where you have already been. No map is required for you, you simply know the way. Eating, drinking, flying and singing hold the better part of your day. Until you must move on, I shall envy you for you are wiser than us all. We huddled masses of flesh that scrounge for prominence and gain, while all along you realize that you have all that you need.

Don't yell at me I scream at the t.v. as a parade of talking heads passes across my screen. I bang the remote to turn it off and head outside only to digital billboards and signs flashing at me. I put on my ear phones and turn on my radio only to hear the same blaring noise that was on the t.v. . Continually over every airwave I hear screaming as if yelling will make me hear. My ears burn at the background noise that drowns out any ideas that someone might want to say. In expensive on pricey couches they talk, talk and talk some more until it all runs together. Please be silent for 5 minuets, give me a paper or book to read. Let me sit in a quiet corner with my digital book and just look through the pages, but please don't yell at me.

The world is round but some of us are square pegs, that doesn't mean that we do not fit somewhere. Despite our differences, we are all of the same fabric. We are all born in the same way and all have the same needs. We are taught what we know and often are close minded, but in the end we are all part of the same humanity.

Taking away guns and killing freedom of speech. New York City the once great international city. Fallen from grace as a beacon of freedom, to become a haven for oppression. No rights are held with in your hallowed streets. Your cruel overlords with distorted points of view. How they have hated and tormented you. In a socialist experiment gone bad. Once you had your freedom now it is as if it never existed.

I am entitled, I should have it now, the words of the selfish and the hateful. Once work wasn't a four letter word and selflessness was acceptable. Now many want to be coddled and have become idle and selfish. When did it become wrong to labor, when did the entitled out number the hard working? Life is many things but often it is not fair and it definitely isn't free.

Pulling on my jeans too tight, stepping up in heels so high. Swinging to the left and bumping to the right. Keeping up with the rhythm every single time. I'm too fly to be left out of anyone's scene. I'm working it fine in my Apple Bottom Jeans.

Hear the silver bells ring out. Hear their echo from building and mountainside. Hear the sound of children singing filled with joy and mirth. Listen to the whispering wind as it blows up newly fallen snow. Hear the sound of young couples hearts as they skate on a frozen pond and draw close together just to keep warm. Hear the sound of ice cracking on evergreen trees as they sway too and froe. Listen to jingle bells on a horse pulling a sleigh. Hear the crackling of a fire in a chimney not so far away. All wrapped up in coats and scarves, let are hearts immerse themselves in the winter song that has gone unheard too long.

Wheels and gears turn  beneath a jeweled face. Springs run tight to precision. Clicks and whirring can be heard. As a man looks through a glass into the workings of the watch he is holding in his hand. The craftsman fashions a masterpiece that will outlast the owner. With a steady hand and keen eye perfected over years of toil and love, the artisan crafts a work of art to adorn a chain of gold or to wear on a wrist. In all his work, the tinkerer is making time.