It is not my people, who want war
It is these dogs from Europe
Who want to play us like pawns.
To their own ends,
They are corrupt.
They do not respect us,
Their leaders lead our politicians on.
It is not our fight, but our weapons
Off of our backs, the funds.
More money gone away to war, which
Shall never return in excess, if at all

But to your point, and the larger issue, is
How do you convince people
Who have no interest in politics, and
Believe they are doing just fine?
Because the repercussions haven’t reached them yet,
Letting other folks run the show.
People need to genuinely care and
Believe it is possible & meaningful as well,
Or they will participate only in apathy or whatever.

Be painfully optimistic, fall on your own sword, argue for the right by strengthing the wrong to others
People will come to the right decision on their own

If you think I am the rat in a cage
And not those who sit inside all day
In courthouses and temples
You are the lost one and I
Am saved

I stand, even if it is alone
And will refuse to break
Even in death

In death, you will see
What life did not deem
You fortunate enough, living

It is the virtue signalers,
Any person who does not do
Exactly as they said they will
It is people who will show you a smile
Only to backtrack a mile, the very next hour
You know authentic
You know the genuine.
You know who are greedy businessmen,
Only out to fill their pockets.
You know who are too old to remain,
Any career politician.
Stack the circuits, flush the house and courts
So much blackmail and cash
You hear about it in the nightly news

Beware the ides of March,
April shall weep with us,
And May might even;
Beware the hanging mist,
Avoid the creeping fog,
And move out from the shadows.

Stand before everybody,
Let them hear the truth of your love
And explain that, that love is of the people
Which are of knowledge.

The children of reason,
The kids of virtue;
The lineage of Logic & Wisdom,
Of Innocence & Emotion.

Be wary of the pats on the back,
But less of those open in their criticisms.

Watch the blade which does not reflect,
Whoever hesitant to display their genuine feelings.

Keep your family closest,
But merely watch their wandering affections.

Keep your friends closer,
For at a distance you seem as enemies.

When one self-medicates,
Sometimes they grab the nostrum
Rather than the cataplasm.
Trying to clean the well, they mistake belladonna for myristica.
Perhaps it was the region or the season,
Maybe the water table atop which they were building.
Were it a town,
Perhaps its citizen lacked hygiene
Or had no care to maintain things.
Maybe they sparsely talked things over
And thought little of one another.
Of the many circumstances,
It could've been the building materials
Or the architects.
The dictates we lay out
For ourselves and those around us
Rarely are truly followed
In the case of relations between each other,
And typically less so
In the case of the larger world.

Violence is never the answer,
But the implication of that quote
Is that violence is an answer
Even if it isn't ever optimal.

As someone once deaf,
And because of it once mute,
Such a quiet but thoughtful demeanor
Usually stirs one from their bitter attitude.

The slumber of anger,
Like that of sadness;
The tiredness is a dear friend,
The emptiness of them.

In that absence of contentment
Missing too is common sense.
The confusion of all emotions,
Their transient nature and overlap.

The first thoughts in the morning,
Filled with tension and anxious,
Mirror those like at night;
The nest of pests parasitic.

Anger, like sadness, is too broad.
Am I enraged by indignation?
Am I grieving from someone gone?
They have their places.

But violence is never an answer.
Peace, no matter what,
Is ever hardly secured
Even if it is always optimal.

What peace is spoken of?
What normalcy?
More war? Further widening the gap
Between the rich & the poor?
Another mean-nothing speech,
Full of thoughts and prayers
Never to be carried to term?
Bills brought to the floor
Only to be stalled by their authors?
Flirting with failure
From manufactured crisis, and with
Pointless battles over culture.
Never have the oppressive been more direct
In their inability to lead
Views, values, beliefs;
Scavenging their remains
Akin to common vultures.

Salting the earth

Take it from the first books-
Though you may feel you are gentle,
The judgements against you are harsh.
They span far beyond your life,
Gleaning the collective journey
Of sweat & of blood.
If your mind is clouded,
Drain the marsh.
For there are no waters
Too deep or too shallow
That will supersede a verdict.

Fall on your own sword;
If you must die
Do it on a hill
On which you shall be revived.
From where at its summit & base
A well should spring
Of water which you may both wade,
Clean enough to be drank.

By both, either side,

Whether Abrahamic or Pagan
Both religious & spiritual.
By whatever side walked
Around the waterhole,
No matter the kind of animal.
Any coast situated near the ocean,
Any forest covered with trees,
Any open & vacant clearing.

slovenly soluble loves
from hearts that ache
that can't imagine being
on their own
being by themselves
could you blame them?

Love is always so fickle,
Itself only as strong as our commitments.

Oftentimes, we seek a level
Which is non-commiserate
To that which we offer.

We often feel ourselves
To be what's most important.
Pushing & pushing.

Until that day
In which the push is away.
Distance becomes
Only that which we are close with.

not every man wants the same thing
but most men want, similarly
and whether it's as grand
as the vision their minds portrayed
or as to if it sees their hearts splayed
their soul is on display
and it can be a vulnerable proceeding
and so far as in love goes
like life, it is fleeting
better to have had it
and lost it
then to have gone on living
and never known it

I deserve to die
Who am I to the people I love
Besides a detriment
Someone to be avoided
What arrogance I have
To think I deserve
Love in return

We know that which we know.
That being that we only know
That which is learning, to grow.
That knowing is to learn.
It is to never completely be sure
Of that which you already understand,
Yet to be totally assured.
For in that ignorance,
There is wisdom.

you know you're no good
you treat me like how you say you shouldn't
venom in your veins
each word you say is acid spat fluid
contracted a stupor from you babe
goin through a super flu
on account of all you do
cause it's like a vice
curse it and the way you abuse it
i'm tellin you
you're gonna lose it

All of the little ways-
I don't even like to say your name.
Not because of some control or power,
But because of who you are.
And I wish I could say
I want this to last forever
But I miss you with no measure
And the emptiness I feel-
Dying would surly prove better.
All the little lies
Told to myself, that keep me together-
Can't hold on forever

Every man is a leader

Leader of his life,
Chief of his destiny.
What incongruous cards
Fate can deal us
To permit the interruption
Of the aforementioned
And render some potential limited

The oyster we shall crack;
To unearth the pearl in every person.

Fix, any ill. Cure any poison

Just a dose of nanites
Neural pattern alight
Optic nerve, perfect sight
Lightning strike down my spine
New image, cultured design
Reverberations through my body and mind
Recall undeterred, I feel it all
And at the same time absolutely nothing
The emptiness of perfection, absent flaws
The bore of excellence
Is the struggle forgotten

To no avail

no time to see you
no time to date
no promises
only talk
and little, as of late
your fault
not that
you see it
that way
move on
because minor incidents
are the ruin
of everything

It is out of great hate
Where it is so easy to find equal love;
For it is not my hate which I speak of.
Of the many desperate,
What makes us separate
Apart from perspective?
What keeps us from happiness?
That there is a difference,
You are measuring out the parts
And forgetting the sum.
That you choose to live in memory
And think not of the future,
Your race is already run.
Tell me, did you win?
And, if so,
What have you won?

Despite the hardships we endure,
And of the misfortune visited upon us,
There is much opportunity for joy
If we are brave enough to discover it
And venture to uncover it.
Friendship like romanticism
Giving us momentum,
And belief like passion
Giving us objective.
But will you make the journey
Or settle where you have started?
Will you call home wherever you landed?

It is a fair assumption
To believe that truth is habitually withheld,
In the daily routine of "inconsequential,
Miniscule" white lies.
As in larger defeats
Where the sting of humility or embarrassment linger,
In plans gone awry.
To understand this is not to condone this,
But never to engage in it.
To do so any different
Would only prove otherwise.

"I am a victim of circumstance."
Are we not all?
Play not devoid
But freely strum the chords
Of sympathy and even empathy,
Far from pieces which are familiar,
For situations one might sparsely fathom.

When someone's fallen
Reach out a hand to help them up
Even if it slows you down,
Even when it is not expected.
For when is a fall the expectation?
And who among us is the exception?

Reflect, act, remark.
If I am to cross the line which signals finish
It will be knowing you
Have completed the marathon.
Having waded the haze that is "competition,"
In a day & age where that means so little
And should still mean less,
I will have been obscured by nothing.
For in that trek, I won;
In the journey of the sport of love
I went the distance for a companion.
When I knelt,
I chanced a "prize"
But it was you who made me champion.

Spring comes
And I find myself fond of fall.
Summer dawns
And I admire more winter.
Fall arrives
And I cherish spring newly.
Winter blossoms
And I appreciate summer more clearly.

it's all gas no brakes
full throttle
pedal to the metal
it's expansion
bigger is better
never large enough
it's big business
so many pitches
strikes are all you can expect
it's the rich
never full, ever hungry
for them
there is no rest

His eyes, tightly shut
To stymie the tears building
The fighting, intense and abrupt
Like the feeling to give up
An ocean of emotion
Waves washing over
Lying still, still in motion,
I know but don't mention.
Still alive though
Inside, I feel I'm dying;
Drowning

The ganwing ache
The emptiness inside,
Great big maw.
That is life

"Jesus, son of Stada, is the Jesus, son of Pandira?"

Rav Hisda said, "The husband was Stadia and the lover was Pandora. His name was Spartacus & her name was Pythia."

"But was not the husband Nicodemus, son of Socrates and the mother Juno?"

"No. His mother was Raet-Tawy, who let her hair grow long and was called Maccabees." Maacah says about her: "She was unfaithful to her husband."

"But what of the roots of his tree?"

"The fruit that you see be not enough?"

"What of that which still eludes me?"

Do you still wonder?

No matter how you view it-
It's all lookings, each perspective.
You grow & you grow & you grow,
But you refuse to germinate.
Don't you know?
You must release your seedlings
If you hope for a root
To be planted.
Can't have too fragile of a barrier,
But neither too hard the shell.
Spread your wings
And do your thing,
Flaunt your laurels.

O' since it hath been beforehand with our griefs,
Let us pay the time but needful woe.

This England never did and never shall
But when it first did help to wound itself.

Lie at the proud foot of a conqueror.

Now these her princes are come home again,
And we shall shock them.

Come the three corners of the world in arms;
If England to itself do rest but true,
Nought shall make us rue.




Like you were before,
Slaves ye shall be again.
You shall pay forever in restless labor.

The country will be nothing but a vassalage,
You who stood on the cliff line side-to-side
As our ships sailed by.

Now it is you who are beneath us.

Wait for your gentry men & ladies to return,
We shall be upon them as a tempest.

And our allies will strengthen & back us.
If you simply lay down & submit,

Nothing like us shall bring you ruin.


They took your royalty
And told you they killed him.
Then they killed more of your children.

It's a different kind of life,
A more cruel death.

What were the temples
Of the tribes, Judea
Brothels of slave Shepards
Of child lovers
And Christiandom was it's continuation, post revolt
Back it all goes back to Rome
Further back than that
To Greece
But ultimately the nomads who settled
In the land we call Egypt
These are the freaks
The monsters throughout history
Who eat of their own young and
Lay with them
Who manipulated what were the Pagans
Who continued on slavery, after the
End of its practice.
Cybele & Attis,
The cults that taught
Drugging as a tool
To manipulate behavior
Bend the rules, in their favor
Far off in Europe and since
The civil war, in America
And it was Truman's gang
That hijacked us
They have been hijacking
Various belief and countries,
For as long as there have been them.
We got back control
With some of us Americans getting in
And then they shot that young man
Going through Dallas, Texas
And ever since, it has been
Foreign elements pulling strings
Foul false Americans
Because they made of us
Of our conservative society
One of shame, one of privacy
Where normal people like you and me
Are afraid to speak out for what is right
In the face of ignorance
In the stead of savagery
They blackmailed and extorted our politicians
Right before our very eyes
I tell you, wake up
Be political, and only trust Americans
Including our southern siblings
Common people like us
Who merely wish to live free lives

The dream revolt of desk jockeys
Of disc spinning, pipe hitting Americans;
A rich man's insurrection.
Not something I'll be part of;
Something I'll watch
As they step on our flag,
Something to stir real action.
Try it, I,  like the rest of us,
Will watch the skin drip from you
As tar does too, and feathers adorn.
You can call that macaroni
When you try to be oppressive
With the law or religion
Or worse yet, the dissolution
Of the two being different.
When they steal from you now,
It will be in the name of God.

he stopped me, a little further ahead of him
on the sidewalk
he said
"I've lived this life before"
"and?" i asked

he just looked at me and walked along

Never was water more refreshing,
Than when I thought I would die of thirst.
Fire never felt so warm as
The moments before I was burned,
And never looked as beautiful
As before it was consumed.
Light split like memories,
When I look up into the night sky;
Things gone, things refracted,
All that's there that eclipses the eye.
I never knew what it was to be *****,
Acting like I was always clean.
Never knew how wrong I was
Thinking I was always right, ignorantly
Hurting those around me
As they've hurt me.
Stagnant puddle reflecting,
Wading against the stream;
Swimming but drowning

Body of a long night in the suns,
Existence as we know it.
Ocean of absence & matter,
Of gas & solid
In equal coexistence
Within these systems upon systems.

Time & motion,
The yin & yang.
The delicate balance
They maintain
Allows for each to live.

Without one,
The other ceases to exist.

Without motion,
Velocity & acceleration,
There would be nowhere
For which time to go.

Without time,
Duration & interval,
There would be nothing
For motion to travel.

So the freaks who have more alienated themselves,
And as consequence us all,
As though they are royalty
Slander the name of all of Europe;
It's nobility & law,
It's cultures & histories?
Asia and the Africas,
Even those of this same continent?

Where do you hope to go, creatures?

For when, not now if,
You craft for yourself a throne,
We shall pin you to it
And make ourselves a new monument.
There, on the banks of reflection,
You will hear our rally call;
Then you shall fall.

Ad tyrannos calcamus!

i have no pride
you hurt me all the time
and inside
i've died
long ago
so it's just numb
i was dumb
to think things
would be any different

You should follow the law,
And if it's wrong
It should **** you off
And make you motivated for change.
Motive with your discipline should result in action,
Whether you merely speak out for what you believe,
In verbal or physical protest.
Your ancestors had freedoms to yours in fractions
And wealth the same,
Still they fought
To edge out a line in the sand
For a land with equal rights for every man.
Do you wish to return to such old & backward ways
As feudal days with no say?

words fail
where i wish to convey
what it is, in this heart,
the fire,
that shrieks to hide
but blazes into the night
straining to beat
with a summation of all its might
that is brought to life
only with that unbridled ecstasy
from simple pleasures

There is not one
Which I have not rewarded,
One I have not punished.
From Cyrus To Moses
And each of their children,
That is their nations.
From Rome to Germany
And their siblings,
That is their family.
You stand with your tribe
And you stand against the species.

i am a hard man to love
not taken to it easily
and falling out of it,
just as difficult

it hails in late july
and it gets hotter everyday somehow
enough, here's a cold front
your eyes-drooping
your mouth
drooling
grueling everyday
seeing your whole life before you
and laughing
uproarious laughter;
evanescent euphoria

Id, cognism, ego.

Mind & thoughts, the vault, the passions & ambitions.

The springs, the streams, the rivers.
The atmosphere, the clouds, the rain.
The ocean, the lakes, the puddles.

Feeding into itself, again & again.

It's difficult to explain,
But easy to conceive of,
If you can imagine.

Bygone halcyon,
In the waters of rain, wash away.
Dams burst and levees break,
Succumbing to the weight
That stands tall today, contemporarily.
Currents swell with all old & well,
Newly made is the way
The path now flowering.
Personified in ideal & representation;
Tradition is upheld, yet progress is not stalled
For the options are plenty
Beyond elders simply floundering

Well, I guess we need
To send out the hounds.
For the crafty sheepdogs
To go pick out the bad actors
Hiding among the crowds.
Look over your shoulder,
There's that chill again,
The heat is rising
And you can feel something creeping.
Let it take you on,
Lest it take you over.
We've been
Building momentum,
Silently growing
Like a beautiful lotus
Or festering fungus.
It's just a matter of perspective,
It's only a matter of time.
Give in, or give up.
Fly if you will,
Fight if you think you must,
But listen to your neighbors.
Are you honest?
Are you trusting?
Are you nurturing?
Don't worry, don't stress out;
We're gonna figure each angle,
Lay out all the motives.
It's all there
On the internet,
And freely given!
You had a choice, you made a choice-
You dressed up the bed, now rest in it.