It’s hard to care when you constantly consume
And casually crawl to your next careless doom.
Drown the dreadful sound of death and distresses
With doing diligent duties of deadlifts and presses.
Present your body, perfect your posture,
Purposely pose and perform, what do you offer?
Over and over, overlook the overlooked
And over emphasize and obsess over our looks.
Life is lost; lifeless ,limp and not much left,
Their little limbs lie still and lose all red,
Yet I read and ritualistically refuse to realize
The reality of death, the relentless killing reeling past my eyes.
Everything feels ephemeral, even eons feel like they evaporate;
Every evil event blinds me more and expresses empathy into a concentrate
Which I don’t take;
Which I waste;
My empathetic blood over coagulates-
I’m hardened,
I’m numb,
I’m used to seeing darkness overcome,
But I’m hurting
With head hung;
Is there no way to protect the young?
Is there no way to make a change?
It feels like everything stays the same!
It feels like the west has left this plane
With no plans for right east days.
A mentality of me means we must make
Sure this sense of self is seated in a superior way.
Western ways, wave goodbye, wave your waste-
We are all walking westward without willingly changing pace!
We’re unaware of our own blazed trails,
We’re unaware of the paths we take.
We’re barely even taking a path in the first place.
We’re barely moving, barely speaking,
Barely seeing or even breathing.
I say we, but I mean me, because I know I’m barely feeling,
But conviction in spirit makes all the burying less appealing;
I’m finally folding open each eyelid one at a time,
Prying my eyes into a state that they don’t normally provide;
And I will watch the world for what it really is;
And I will watch the church for what it really is;
And I will watch the body for what it really is;
And I will watch the Christians for who they really are;
And I will watch my brothers and see who they really are;
And I will weep for what I watch and see what really is and who really are,
And how far we’ve fallen from where we say we’ve been,
When we haven’t moved in centuries past the threshold of our own doors,
Or invited others in need to come stand upon our floors.
I imagine what it would be like to believe over seas,
Brought up in darkness, poverty, plagued by disease;
I saw it said the other day,“lord let my next trial be how well can I handle money”
But they are blind to the root of many evils, the toxicity of greed.
Because getting what you can and given little is all we breed
And carve into the hearts of families, worshiping capitalistic means!
“God made capitalism” is such a funny thing to see,
It’s as if we never read an ounce of what we preach.
As if all other nations are dammed by man made decrees,
Divided on how to govern, how to create freedom, or how to eat.
These are tedious things that have no worth.
Tedious things will end up burnt;
Tedious tidy-ups and tie-ups to tuning life will leave you hurt-
It’s overwhelming being caught in the web of pseudo Christianity, pseudo faith and fruit;
Believing what they say as absolute-
At the same time I ponder the reality that my faith has doubts too,
Like how the Bible is made by man, and God’s  hands,
Yet infallible, with pure intentions and plans.
Can I accept that?
I know some of you can’t?
But then what is left that can stand?
Do we determine the character of God like west-wing prophets?
Do we trust ourselves to know God’s thoughts and process?
Pick and choose then pick and lose?
Pick a faulty step and then pick a noose?
Do I trust in you?
You who also say that they’re happy with Alligator Alcatraz?
Who laugh when families are taken from their dads?
Who cheer for pain and suffering of others?
Who don’t know even the slightest meaning to the word brother?
Or do I follow you who worships the endless pit of consumption?
The one who can’t live without getting something?
Never content because you are chasing around a doorless fence;
Worshiping the air, the particles, or even the sound of your breath.
Always hungry, always changing, never considering the emptiness.




In all of this I find comfort in two greatly forsaken ways:
Laying down my life for others,
And in my demise giving thanks.
I am thankful for my pain.
I am thankful for suffering when I do.
I would rather suffer than watching it happen to you.
My prayers recently have been along the lines of this:
“Jesus may you save those in pain and show me how I can help.
May you bring peace to all who are suffering, even though their lives are hell.
Open my eyes to see the ways that I ignore their yells,
And may you help me to love greatly, even if it hurts myself.
Thank you for my family, my son, my wife, my home.
Thank you for being here with me even when I feel alone.
Thank you for your blessings and I trust you always provide.
Even when I have nothing, I know you’re by my side.
Help me to endure what is needed to break off the heavy spells
That this world is casting day by day to make me hate myself.
I love you Lord and how your word has never let me down;
Pastors, brothers, and friends all will; in you, help me have no doubts”.

“I'll find them"
I say as I come across another corpse
The blood leaking out of the open wounds inflicted upon them.
Turning their intellect into a poison
that eats them inside out.  
They're gone now (blanched from existence),
I look around
And see the bones on which
My “exceptionalism” stands.
Unnoticed by most
but I sense their ghosts in the spaces that should be filled.  
The same system that killed my kin,
demands I cannibalize them
to sell me as a relic - a reminder of what was
But I never forget - or forgive - a murderer.

My honest opinion on hate?
Love it!
Smother it with compassion!
Being blindingly gentle
And barbarically kind!

The only thing fair in life is death,
It comes for everyone,
Young or old,
Good or Evil,
Beautiful or unsightly.

It doesn’t discriminate,
It’s not plagued by the modernity of society,
It is just,
And unbiased.
It doesn’t care who you are,
Or what you are.

Everything created,
Must be destroyed,
And what destroys better than death?

Black Robe
High Bench
Pursed Lips.

Furrowed Brow
Hand to Chin
The Perfect Pose.

Letter of Law
Bias Hidden
Masked Indifference.

Walk the Mile
Tighten Straps
Pull the Lever.

Wave after wave, a playful gale flurries,
To the outstretched palm of Mother Nature,
Each tamed to a steady caress,
As she tends, lovingly nurtures,
Her arboretums underwater,
Where blooms and seaweed sway, unbothered.

An albatross aloft, above,
Not biting on wind’s game of riddles,
Indifferent to which way comes gust,
Unfazed, steadfast, like sky-held buoy.

Then blows my way, at last,
Someone to toy - I’m not as rigid,
And flutters my lips to swear out dust.
I fall for it so easily. Oh boy.

Be unrealistic, congratulations!
You are privileged.
And think me wrong,
I am only a realist.
If you don't like the observational
It's because you fail to see
Things as they really are
And rather, how you'd like them to be.