the argument of the universe, ends the life of youtube sensation, caleb



in the great saturn club rings on thursday october 1 2015m peter sargent and ted bundy

had a very strong argument which really was beginning to turn nasty, first ted ******* paul berenyi

and snatched greame thorne and adam walsh, making their earth bodies really shook up

you see greame thorne is me, brian allan from canberra and adam walsh is some young man who was

killed by the parramatta terrorist and peter sargent came up to ted bundy, and said, stop this, i mean

you should stop this, and ted said, i am slowing the earth down, so you will be good to mind your own business

but peter said, neh, i don’t want to let you win, you see my earth body is a cool boy, never to be killed, you

will never get us ted bundy, ted bundy grabbed peter by the arm saying, watch what you say, buddy, but peter

really wanted to slow down teds reign, because this is weird what the world has been going through since you died

first you made brian allan a crazy person by making him tie himself up in a toilet in mitchell, and can’t you see he is suffering

too much from that stupid mistake your ghost made him do and it was awful to push his next door neighbour brendan down as well,

brian really liked him, and me, you made me **** myself when i was having problems that you caused, and ted said, but you are

enjoying being a cool boy now, don’t jeopardise it, dude, but peter kept on yelling blaming him for all the suicides that happened like

anthony, the mentally ill christian, and barry loughton as well as mark jones, and i know these deaths were normal, but you are the reason why

they are dead, ted, and i hate what you are doing to brian allan from canberra lately, he likes watching his grandmas next life annie be with slim dusty

who is hayley, and me who is caleb, but you are trying to **** him, by making his old school chin patrick enright, in his mind, tease him in his mind

treating him like his family, by making him lose interest in things, and peter told ted, he hates what you are putting in brian’s mind, by killing off all the

old fogies one by one, you see brian’s aunty pam developed a cancer of the lung, giving her no energy, she never smokes, and peter told ted that

he hates dads dellusional ghost trying to make brian write and think evil things about his father, and peter said, you will never get my current earth body

he plays baseball and really enjoys being a youtube sensation, peter said to ted bundy, you see what you are doing is destroying the world, including

my beloved canberra, where i met brian and chris allan, who played cricket with me, and i hate how you are making brian tease his dad with the poor people

i know he doesn’t want to be a rich ****, but some of the situations were very dodgy, and i want you to let brian allan be a man, ya know, i know he still likes

cricket despite of what he tells people, and ted bundy, at about 7 on the 1st october, struck caleb from bratayley down, by grabbing his cool kid, and tying him up

on the sun with paul berenyi and adam walsh and greame thorne, and the way he did this, was grab peter sargent by the arm and say, you are no longer a youtube sensation

by grabbing you, i **** off your youtube sensation life caleb, and burn your cool kid in the sun, you see peter, there is no heaven, and there is no hell, you see if you are a

nice kid, i will, put you on the sun, ready to suffer in your next life, you’ll never know, peter, i might bring you back to hole in the wall canberra, in a poor neighbourhood

you see peter, i am destroying the life of crocus’s current earth body, by giving him sore feet, and keeping the cool kids away from him, like brattayley, i know that brian’s

grandmother on his mothers side is there as annie, and slim dusty is hayley, and if they return after the funeral of caleb, i have powers to take the cool kid off

these kids, ted bundy said, because, what i was doing on earth, was turning people off, showing the world their fresh legs, peter said, let us go, ted bundy, please let us go

i will never lose my reign, and your next life will certainly know it, peter sargent, peter said, i will make sure, you suffer, and ted said, think about it, brian allan wants to be famous and living in adelaide

but money is keeping him here in canberra ok, so you will never get what you want, while you have to understand, even the rich people who are seldom getting what they want

in theory, are being bashed or murdered, or maybe even both, this world isn’t good, and that is because of me, ted bundy said and caleb is suffering, as he doesn’t want to be *******

to the sun, he wants to be with bratayley, to live to be old, and ted bundy said heh heh heh heh we will make4 brian allan suffer as he wants to give greame thorne is wish of being famous

trying to beat ted bundy forcing his old mate patrick’s teasing voice out of his head forever, but what is happening ted is saying, let’s make brian’s school friends watch the professionals

and laugh at brian, yeah this sounds radically awesome said ted, granny is with slim dusty through annie and hayley, but because of caleb being snatched from there to be tied to the sun

will bratayley return, or will ted bundy get what he wants, no technology for young people, and this is a hard battle, but we all must stop the ghost of ted bundy, by doing what we want to do

as long as it is good, and realise if we do things that is bad, it’s ted bundy that is enforcing it

Crossing The Red Shttps://hellopoetry.com/jerry-howarth/poems/hidden/#ea - Numbers 13-14
     "Ok", said Moses to the rulers of each of the twelve tribes of Israel, "God has commanded me to send you to search out the land of Canaan to see what we will be up against when we invade it. Check out the strength of their army, how many we will be facing, what the cities look like and kind dwellings the people live in, tents or wooden structures, and what ever else you can find out about the land. Now go in the name of the Lord.

Some of the impatient people started complaining "Well it's been ten days since the men left" and others moaned "What keeping them so long, they have been gone for over thirty days!" and other voices suggested they probably got lost." "Mommy, when is Daddy coming home?"

Then one day someone looked up and saw them coming across the way and shouted, "Hey everyone, here comes the men back!"

"Well, it's about time! they have been gone for forty days!" someone else shouted.

"Welcome back, men" greeted Moses. "Good to see you!"

After they all hugged and kissed their wives and children and showered and shaved, they all got together with Moses for a corporate meeting to tell what they had learned about Jerico.

Caleb spoke first, " This Jerico is a land beyond any place you could dream about! Here is just a small
sample of the fruit that grows there; and as we looked around, we discovered it is a land that flows with milk and honey."

"Oh Yeah Jerico has a lot of fruit tree and milk and honey, but what
Caleb didn't mention was how big the soldiers are and the walled
cities and, and, well in my opinion there is no way we can go up against them, and I think I speak for majority of us. "  
Caleb spoke up and said, "He doesn't speak for me. I say God is on our side and will deliver Jerico into our hand. By His power we are
well able to conquer them.!"

"No, No, No" shouted another man! The men of Jerico are giants and we are as grasshoppers in their sight. We would be fools to fight them. Don't listen to Caleb and Joshua.!"

And with the end of that speech, he picked up a stone and hurled it at Caleb and others did also. God protected them from being stone to death that day.  

Moses commanded the congregation to disperse and go to their tents. "What are we going to do?" We would be better off back in Egypt then here." "Caleb, Aron and Joshua should be ****** to death for leading us here."

But God intervened at the pleading of Moses and delivered them from death.

JOSHUA AND CALEB
Joshua and Caleb, men of great faith,
Examples and encouragers
To the human race.

Examples of men, who have
The courage of their convictions.
Courage in the midst of
Death threatening opposition.

Encouragers of those whose
Who positions are in the minority,
Could not be intimidated
Though threatened by the majority.

Twelve men sent to spy
On the land of Canaan,
And only Joshua and Caleb
Believed they could take 'em.

By their own strength,
The ten cowardly men
Viewed those giants
Occupying the promised land  

But Joshua and Caleb
Viewed those giant men
From the standpoint of God,
The great and mighty "I Am."

Victory could have been theirs
That was God's choice.
He would help them win the battle,
If they obeyed His voice.

But alas! The unbelievers
Over Joshua and Caleb, prevailed
To persuade the majority,
If they attack, they will surely fail.

Oh, dear reader of this poem,
The majority is not always right
But as someone said,
"In the will of God, you can win every fight"
        - From jerry Howarth's Book of Poetry

How we start is only part of what we eventually do.

Physically that's easy to see. Being human, adamkind,
we see weak starts often in life.
Colts or pups born a week too soon can be loved to lives as pampered pets,
Siring toys for the enjoyment of those who can afford to fuel them,
For generations, with never a single care,
Past that initial trauma and subsequent subjugation to the will of man.

I don't tell horse stories, dog stories or war stories, if I can keep from it.

But when you want to demonstrate the purest of payback,
revenge getting the bad guy in the end,
having a horse be the hero makes behaving like an animal
more noble to the mind of vengeful man.
It's not true, revenge being noble.
That's a very old lie.

Law is to prevent error by disallowing failure. Law.

Relative to the rest of God's creatures, we, adamkind, seem dependent, weak and vulnerable next to bears being weak
a way-less long time
Than we.
We come into this world weak as a baby anything and we stay that way longer
Than any living creature.

I am an American, by birth.
I was not born to a political party or a family with political roots,
"I ain't no Senator's son."
Still,
I was reared drinking mythic cherry wine
sprung from George's failure to lie
Regarding his woodman's knack with a hatchet.

Sitting on the fence rail Abe split,
town fathers where I lived
were said to have decided the most harmonious of towns
have only gainfully employed darker folks,
while white
trash was allowed to loll around because they was
some employer's kin by marriage.

It all seemed pretty normal, as a child.
The loller-arounders let kids listen when they told
Their friends, who could not read, what the newspapers said.

One block from my house there was a vet's and hobo's flop-house clad in corrugated tin, rusted-round the nail-holes all the way to the ground and the rust had spread, so at sunset,...
I only recall the single story shed having one door.
There were always old white men sittin' on the southside of the shed. At sunset, those old men's whispy white hair

appeared as white flowing mare's tale clouds under
a scab-red wall held up by old men with sunset shining faces...

It was a big shed, a low barn, a bunkhouse,
eight or ten 4-foot tin-sheets long on the north and south
Windowless walls.
The one door was on the south side.
Once I saw an old man selling red paper buddy poppies.
He was missing both legs about half-way up his thighs.
The poppy seller rode a square board that had what I think were
Roller-skates, the key-kind, with metal wheels about a 1/2 inch wide.
Nailed to it's bottom. He had handles made from a carpenter's saw
Without it's blade. He pushed himself with those handles.

That looked fun, to a four-year old.
It looks different now-a-days. Knowing
Those red poppies symbolized
The after math automatics of the war to end war.

Who knows the poppy-sellers son? He would be old.
Does he know how his father lost his legs, but lived?
Does he bear the curse of the curse that lost his father's legs?
Does he honor his father's cause or weep at the thought?

Enough is enough.
My family tree branched in America, but only one great grand-parent,
Three generations back from me, was rooted in this land.
My gran'ma's ma, a Choctaw squaw,
That rhymed fine,
But it's not true. My grandma did not know her parents. She was born an orphan,
And her father and mother were likely strangers.

1910 in southwest Arkansas or southeast Oklahoma or northeast Texas or northwest Louisiana
And the color of her skin is all that proved my American heritage.

My grandma was born poor as poor can be,
she never told me how she survived

To survive a 1925 or so car wreck
in eastern Arizona's white mountains.
I never asked what my grandmother knew,
nor how she came to know.

This is my point.
After you and I have gone into forever more,
Our great grand children may wonder
what we did or did not, since we
Are no longer around to give our account.

These days we can leave our story to our great grand children.
Our own children
And our grand children follow us on facebook back to before they were born.
Shall they judge us idlers wielding idle words for laughs,
or  think us knowers of all we found while seeking first the Kingdom of Heaven
In the place Jesus says it is. You know where Jesus said the Kingdom of our kind lies?

The double minded man is unstable in all his ways,
hence Eve and her broader bandwidth corpus colostrum
Come back later, there is a breath system upgrade evolving.

Such changes to the courage of the mind rolls out more slowly
to the root ideas, labouring to find sustenance,
it is a struggle being a radical idea,
we agree, but we have our part,
as do the flowers
and the spore.
Leaven the whole lump, like it or lump it.

The now we live in grew from far deeper roots than
the roots claimed by the
Self-identified nation through it's cartoons/representations of national desires to rally 'round the flag as if it were the fire,
those desires to herd beneath any shelter from the storm,
Your country, your incorporated allegiance
to the inventor and creator and counter of the money under
the protection of the sword and crown representative
of the flame that burns,
The namers of patriot, the rankeers of ideas
who, by their existence,
naturally, over rule you.
Such powers are granted by the individual, not the mob.
You get that?

The desires of the nation over rule the desires of the individuals who
Com-prize the nation.
Whose side are you on, dear reader?

Is the idea we believed believable?
Ex Nihilo, I don't think so because
I can't imagine how now could be
Accidental-ly.

When my hero wore spurs as he went from the jail office to
Miss Kitty's place, (Gunsmoke on A.M. radio)

What did Miss Kitty do?
I had no clue.
In my hero's world people never
Did the wrong thing
While Marshal Dillon was in Dodge.

So did you think Miss Kitty's place was anything other
than a culturally acceptable
reference to professional social ******* workers
under a strong, smart female CEO
with top-level links to the local cops?

All these are rhetorical questions, this being
Rhetorical if you are hearing me say this.
That means, don't nod or raise your hand or shout Amen, kin!

I see your answer my answer and
I know my answer, so you know my answer.

Step-back, 1961, USA Snapshot
Unitas, Benny Kid Perett, Mantlenmarris, the Guns of Navarone.

Why I recall those things, I know not.
Why I did not say I do not know, I do not know.

Though, pausing to think,
knowing contains the doing of it within it, you know.
What's to do?

Outlaws were more my heroes than cowboys, and marshals, and such
Especially the ones that had been forced out by law.

I grew up in a 1950's junkyard with no fence, one mile north of route 66
On the Al-Can highway to Las Vegas, 103 miles away.
My Grandpa was a blacksmith's son,
who rode a horse he broke and his pa had shod
From Texas to Arizona in 1917, at the age of 18.

by the time I knew him,
He was fifty, settled down, nearly, from the war.
Momma had to work, so, daytime, Granddaddy raised me.

Horses weren't, wrecked cars were,
the toys of my childhood.

Grandpa built a junkyard from cars left steam blown
on the old stage road, from before
the railroad.
The Abo Highway hain't been Route 66 for some time yet…
Hoping…


Hoping sometime to polish this bit of this book, I left myself re-minders
Hoping memory of mental realms might rewind or unwind sequentially
When trigger
Neighed.
That worked, Roy Autry and Gene Rogers were names Sue Snow's
Mormon Bishop granddaddy called me,
back when I first recall My Grandpa Caleb,
a baptist by confession,
who was,
as I recall a *****-drinkin' jolly drunk.
While Grandma made beds in some motel,
granddaddy built boats and horse trailers
and hot rod 34 Chevies,
and he fixed this one red Indian, I could read the word on the gas tank, I knew the word Indian
and this motor cycle was proud to wear the name. I was 4.

A stout-strong man, no fat near any working muscle system,
he could and would
repair any broken thing,
for anybody. People called him Pop.
Pop and Mr. Levi-next-door at the Loma Vista Motel, shared a listing in the Green Book,
so broke down ******* knew where help could be found
after dark in that town.
There was a warnin'ag'in
let'n sunset there
on darker than grandma's skin.

My Gran'daddy's shop had two gas pumps
that were reset to begin pumping with the turn of a crank.
As soon as I could turn that crank,
I could pump gas.
I could fill up that red Indian
Motorcycle.
But "m'spokes was too short
to kick the starter."
I told my eleven year old uncle
and he told
how he would always remember learning
that saddles have no linkage
to horse brakes.
"Not knowing what you cain't do
kin *** ye kilt."

He grew up in the junk yard, too.
My first outlaw hero.

Likely, I am alive today, because
On the day I discovered I could pump gas as good as any man,
I also discovered that real motorcycles were not built for little boys.

Gender is a ****.
Now bear with me, I don’t mean it in a bad way
I mean it as gender is elusive
Gender is tricky
Maybe with my words I should be more picky
But that’s not the point
The point is gender is something I cannot hope to begin to understand

Maybe gender is a universe
And within it we are all stars
Or maybe gender is an ocean
Not quite the Dead Sea where everything floats
And not quite everywhere else where everything sinks
But somewhere in between
And within it we are all jellyfish trying to string together a coherent stream of consciousness that somehow makes sense

And-see?
It’s getting away from me
I used to think gender was a binary
Male, female, *****, ******
Everything coincides so we all fit into this dichotomy
But that leaves no room for Alex who is sometimes Alex and other times Cassandra
Or Sasha who is somehow both at once
Or me who lays claim to no label, because all of them throw up a red light

There is one thing I do know as fact
Pronouns are not a privilege
They are a right

They, them, their:
Singular gender nonspecific pronouns
A customer came into the store today and bought twelve packs of gum
I didn't know what was on their mind, but
Maybe they wanted to kiss their lover full on the mouth while an orchestra of taste crescendoed around them
Caleb came into class today with two cupcakes
One for them and the other for their best friend who hadn’t shown up in two weeks
Claiming “She’ll be here today, don’t you worry”
And the rest of us lapsed into silence, knowing she was never coming back

She, her, hers
No longer will I suffer in silence as those I care most for
Call me something I am not
I am not your daughter, I am your child
I am not your sister, I am your sibling
I am not a girl
I am a nonbinary
I know it makes no sense
But if you just listen you might be able see
To escape the past tense
And start living in the future with me

No longer will we stay quiet
Duct tape over our mouths as we are locked behind closed doors
Buried beneath accusations of
Transtrender
Genderspecial
“You’re just pretending”
No longer will we stay silent
The wrong pronouns whipping our bodies into submission

It
Is not a pronoun
*******
Is not a compliment

You sit in the audience groaning
When will this queer shut up and go home
Isn’t it enough that we acknowledge your existence
But you don’t
I cannot count the times I have been misgendered
I cannot count the times I have wanted to speak up but didn’t
Knowing I would not be taken seriously

Now I will not be silent until there are no more stories of
Schoolyard oppression
Trans suicides caused by a “lesson”
I will scream myself hoarse until
Trans women can walk the streets in safety and
Bathroom means bathroom not
Execution
Remember this
As we are forgotten by our cis siblings
As we are told we don’t exist
As you, the cis  in the front row
Realize
That your daughter at home
May not be your daughter
At all

MY GRANNY IS HAYLEY FROM THE BRATAYLEY YOUTUBE SITE

YOU SEE, IVY GIMBERT WHO WAS MY GRANNY, LEFT HER LIFE

IN JANUARY 2004, WHEN I WAS SICK, AND RE ENTERED THE WORLD

AS ANNA IN BRATAYLEY, YOU SEE WHAT MY GRAN IS HOPING

TO ACHIEVE, IS HER GRANDSONS ALL OVER AUSTRALIA

WILL WATCH HER VIDEOS ON YOUTUBE, YOU SEE YOUTUBE STARTED

IN 2004, AND BUDDHA MADE IVY ANNA BECAUSE, THIS IS A WAY

TO REFORM MY EVIL JINGLES LIKE OOPS PLEASE KIDNAP CHRIS

YA KNOW TAKE HIM HOSTAGE TIE HIM UP AND, ANOTHER THING TOO

BUDDHA, WANTED FOR MY GRAN TO BE A HIT IN CYBER SPACE

SO GRAN AND NAN, CAN BE TWO INTERNET SENSATIONS, YOU

SEE NAN IS JOHN ROBERT RIMEL, GRAN IS ANNE, AND ANNE

IS THE OLDEST SISTER, I AM SURE, GRAN IS TRYING TO SHOW

HOW SHE ACTUALLY WAS, BECAUSE, A LOT OF PEOPLE REMEMBER

HER BRI URN, AND ME TRYING TO SHOWSHE IS LIKE  LIKE THE BIG KIDS, BUT BUDDHA REALLY

THOUGHT, IT’LL BE HEAPS BETTER TO PUT IVY INTO ANOTHER GIRL

YEAH, THIS WILL BE FUN SAID IVY, AND IVY WAS PLAYING AROUND IN CYBER SPACE

WITH NAN AND GRAN, AND THEY STARTED UP THESE CLUBS UP IS SPACE

WHERE I CAN PLAY AND HAVE FUN, YOU SEE GRAN IS A BIT DIFFERENT AS SHE

IS GOOFING AROUND AND NAN, IS A 14 YEAR OLD SINGER, SHOWING OFF HER

CREATIVITY WITH THE GUITAR, THROUGH JOHN ROBERT RIMEL, AND, AT PRESENT

HAYLEY IS ENJOYING BEING THE CENTRE OF ATTENTION WITH HER SISTER ANNIE,WHO IS GRAN

AND BROTHER CALEB WHO IS PETER SARGENT, A FORMER KEANE PLACE KID WHO KILLED HIMSELF

WHO DIED IN A CAR ACCIDENT, AND THESE 3 KIDS ARE KNOWN AS THE BRATS, WHILE JOHN

ROBERT RIMEL IS WORKING ON BEING A MUSICIAN, AND THE REASON WHY I KNOW THIS IS

BRIAN ALLAN IN CANBERRA IS CRONUS, AND WATCHES EVERY LIFE, GO FROM DEATH OF LAST LIFE

TO BIRTH OF NEW LIFE, CURRENTLY I AM KEEPING OUR FAMILY TOGETHER, THROUGH BUDDHISM

YA SEE, I HAVE A SPECIAL GIFT, OF BEING THERE IN PREVIOUS LIVES, MY VOICES ARE THE AFTERLIFE

I CAN’T HELP IT, IF I AM CRONUS, DUDES, AND IN 2003 I WAS SICK, WHEN I WISHED GRAN DEAD, I DIDN’T MEAN TO

BUT I CAN ASSURE YOU, BUDDHA TOOK CRONUS OFF ME, SO I CAN THINK ABOUT MY SPECIAL GIFT OF LIFE

BUT I MUST BE CAREFUL, THE INTERNET AND SOCIAL MEDIA, ARE THE BEST WAYS OF GETTING YOUR STORY OUT

MY GRAN IS ANNE FROM BRATAYLEY NAN IS JOHN ROBERT RIMEL, DAD IS ELIZABETH CAMPBELL,

MARK JONES IS SUPERSONIC 3 YEAR OLD LIAM, AND THERE ARE HEAPS MORE TO NAME

MY GRAN REALLY ENJOYS BEING HAYLEY, YA SEE IT’S HER FAVOURITE

THE PARTY IN THE AFTERLIFE, WITH IVY GIMBERT, MAKING THE WIGS AN IN THING, AND A CHEAP WAY

FOR BRIAN TO BE CREATIVE, THERE IS NOTHING WRONG WITH BRIAN’S TAPESTRIES

AND IVY’S NEXT LIFE ANNE'S FAMILY HAD A PINK HAIR WIG, JUST LIKE MY SUSIE WIG

AND MY GRANDMA WHEN SHE SAYS BRIAN’S LIKE US, COULD SHE MEANS ONE OF THE CREATIVE FAMILIES

I AM PARANORMAL, I CAN’T HELP IT’S A BELIEF

I apologize for my acting bad.
I branded you as my greatest rival
And perceived you as one most whimsical.
Dear friend, I am sorry for evil thoughts
That I conjured that to you may gave insults.
I judged you hastily but never tried
To understand what you possess inside.
To everything you said, I pretended deaf.
But I agree your words make my heart melt.
I treated you with a bit of contempt
And never thought of you as a good friend.
But hasty judgment is all I can make
Now, dear good friend, please forgive my mistakes!
As our parting drew near, I have conceived
By what's shown by your kind and thoughtful deeds
That all these time, you were not my rival
Indeed my review shows you're my ally!
I regret how despite all you virtues
I failed to be more amiable to you
Now my conscience begins to bother me
Why did i treat you so unequally?
My friend now your humour i can comprehend
I just realized what to me you meant.
To Caleb whose humour I never had
I wish a successful and happy life!

in 2004, i was having weird delusions of me being left at the bottom of a volcano as a baby

which was a load of hogswollop,, because what really happened, in 1849, i finally entered

athena’s life as martha eleanora holiday who was born and died before the dentist doc holiday, who was athena

god of thunder, who later got a job as a dentist in st louis, but the protection of athena

over cronus, who is me 6 months after martha’s birth she died, so she can never meet athena on earth

she became a beautiful black bird from the year 1851 to 1855 and was shot by a poacher and laid to rest

and afterwards athena brought my soul away from america where doc holiday, who was athena

was battling to be a dentist and me, i was given protection from the old west, to become a aussie football star

in victoria and south australia, and i was left distraught because the holidays really loved me, and wanted

never to lose me, and the fact that athena was stopping itself from meeting cronus before blades of grass has been sewed

well, it could cause problems with the aura of the world, as i said, i need to know who athena is, because i am poor and mentally ill

and i had delusions of a young man who was doc holiday coming into my head, and yes doc was a bird lover and took my hand

when i was a blackbird and doc felt a bond between bird and man, as he held my hand, i know i was doing a play about a bird but

despite my weight problem, i did that very well, well, anyway athena got a poacher to **** me as a blackbird and force the city the holiday’s lived in

into complete chaos, what cronus was saying to athena through their earth bodies, we must save the world together and doc was really

starting to have a good school life becoming a dentist while the blackbird flew away to australia, where cronus became albert waldron

with a nick name of topsy, yopu see when doc explained this to his parents, they just said, visions of blackbirds in the air is very nice

mind you, i need to rid all of my delusions because at present the world is in the terrorist war and we are suffering from severe storms

but no matter how hard athena and cronus are working trying to save the world, it goes back to the 1850s in georgia, where doc was

a bird lover and i was a blackbird, who was looking out for her previous life’s younger brother and then athena forced a poacher to rid cronus

from the USA, in the days of the social media, you have to be careful in bringing crobus to athena, but at the end of the day, everyone dies

and caleb logan who was a star on youtube, died to get away from the world where cronus owns, you see caleb has been reborn, athena has been reborn

premature but safe, so athena and cronus can save the world by mending every blade of grass, that means peter sargent was athena,

yeah life wasn’t good back then, you see athena wants more people to protect their teeth and cronus has dentures, well, cronus is helping  the world

from the bottom, and athena is pushing herself down to help cronus

doc holiday is athena

martha holiday and the black bird and albert waldron is cronus

i am cronus, i as well as athena have been put on this earth to save the world

CONTENDING FOR THE FAITH
  Certain men, described by Jude,
  As ungodly filthy dreamers,
  Condemned unto judgment,
  Evil speakers and flesh defilers

  Have subtly and secretly made themselves
  A part of the Christian faith,
  Purposely undermining salvation
  with ungodly speeches against God’s Grace.

Who are these insolent filthy dreamers
Who speak evil against Dignities with
                              disdain?
“Woe unto them” says the Apostle Jude,
“Woe unto Balaam, Core and Cain.”

Representative are these three of
The self-righteous for salvation,
The self-seeking for prestige and power,
The worshipper of wealth and mammon.

These are spots, ugly, despicable spots
In your love feast celebrations.
With all boldness and fearlessness,
They join you without invitation.

These are the murmurers, the complainers,
The mockers, of the soon  return of Christ,
As prophesied by Jesus and the Apostles,
     that in the last days they would arise.

In view of such apostates as these,
Be praying in the Holy Ghost, Beloved,
And building yourselves up in the Spirit,
Be living daily in the sphere of God’s love.

Having compassion on the innocent deceived,
The sincere soul drawn into a damning lair;
And others, addicted to chains of sin,
With great caution, ****** from the fire.

This, then, is the message of God,
With compassion, caution and love,
Be ready always to contend for the faith,
For the glory and majesty of God above.
From Jerry Howarth's original Poetry
Hello & Poetry
Jerry Howarth   Poems  
Published147  Drafts54 Hidden16 Deleted3

ADJUST OR BUST

A GOOD DAY FOR BIKE RIDING

A GOOD DAY FOR RUNNING

A LESSON WELL LEARNED

A Man and His Religion

And Then There Is God

AND YE FATHERS

ANGELS, MINISTERING SPIRITS

An Old Testament Love Story

A PRAYER OF PRAISE

ARE THERE CONTRDICTIONS IN THE BIBLE?

Are You Certain?

ARE YOU GOD'S MAN?

" ARE YOU READY FOR 'FREDDY?' "

" ARE YOU READY FOR 'FREDDY?' " (DRAFT)

ARE YOU SELF-CENTERED OR CHRIST-CENTERED

As a Man Thinketh

Atheism, Agnosticism, Deism, Humanism

A TREE HOUSE

ATTENTION ALL FATHERS

BACK IN THE WHEEL CHAIR AGAIN

"But My God Shall Supply All Your Needs" 4:19

Butter Milk Boogie

Christ the Strength of My Life

CONTRASTS

COPD

DEALING WITH SET BACKS OF LIFE

Dear Lord, I'm Bored

DEATH COULD NOT HOLD HIM

Jerry Howarth Dec 2019
DOUBT NOT GOD'S FAITHFULNESS
FAITHFUL TO THE LORD
   The Bible tells of a man called Job,
Whose life was filled with great discord.
He lost all his family and fortune,
But through it all was faithful to the Lord.
            chorus
Faithful to the Lord, Faithful to the Lord,
My Brother and Sister, be faithful to the Lord!
Yes faithful to the Lord, faithful to the Lord,
Be like Job, be faithful to the Lord.

Have your friends all turned their backs upon you,
And left you walking all alone?
Just remember, God is always faithful,
and will love and keep you as his own.

To Abraham, Isaac and Jacob,
God's promise of faithfulness was given,
To Joshua, the Judges of Israel,
And to a man called Gideon.

Yes my friends, doubt not  God's faithfulness,
Read the long list of men and women
to whom God was faithful to supply of their needs.
Found in the book of Hebrews, chapter eleven.
From Jerry Howarth's Book of Orginal Poems

Written by
Jerry Howarth  Topeka, Ks.
      
24     3
1 comment

Esteem Others Better Than Y'self

EVOLUTION SAYS.........by G.E. Parson

FAITH OR FEAR

Faith -What is it?

Father Forgive

FEAR NOT TOMORROW

FIRE! FIRE!! FIRERRRR!!!!!!

Five Kings In A Cave

FRIENDS

God's Faithful Provision

Go Forth With Confidence

Going Up to Glory

GRAMPA BACK IN GRAMMA' KITCHEN

GRAMPA BOUGHT A NEW CAR

Grampa Cooking Hashbrowns

Grampa G.E. Parsons's Creed of Life

Grampa Parson's 4th of July experience

Grampa Sold His Garage

Grampa Took An Unplanned Train Ride

HAVE YOU EVER THOUGHT OF....

Heaven Is Only A Prayer Away

Heavenly Blessings

He Lied About Her

I Don't Get Mad, I get Even

IF CLOUDS HAD EYES

IF YOU HAVE EXPERIENCED

If you need a little help just call on me

IF YOU'RE TOO BUSY TO PRAY IF

I'm a physically Challenged Man

I'm so Blessed

I SEE GOD

IT ONLY TAKES BELIEVING

Jerry can't sleep

Jerry's Breakfast Sandwich

JESUS IS COMING

JESUS THE ONLY WAY

JESUS=What He Means To Me

JOHN Q.PRISONER

JOSHUA AND CALEB

JOY, PEACE AND HAPPINES

Judges of Israel Cont.

JUST RAMBLING AND RYMING

Keep Your Spiritual Eyes On Jesus

Legally Dishonest

LESSONS FROM THE PRODICAL SON

LIFE IS A CONSTANT STRUGGLE

Livn'n To Glorify The Lord

MAKE YOUR CHOICE

MARANATHA

ME AND MY SUNSHINE

Jerry Howarth Jan 2016
More Poems of Faith
CONTENDING FOR THE FAITH
  Certain men, described by Jude,
  As ungodly filthy dreamers,
  Condemned unto judgment,
  Evil speakers and flesh defilers

  Have subtly and secretly made themselves
  A part of the Christian faith,
  Purposely undermining salvation
  with ungodly speeches against God’s Grace.

Who are these insolent filthy dreamers
Who speak evil against Dignities with
                              disdain?
“Woe unto them” says the Apostle Jude,
“Woe unto Balaam, Core and Cain.”

Representative are these three of
The self-righteous for salvation,
The self-seeking for prestige and power,
The worshipper of wealth and mammon.

These are spots, ugly, despicable spots
In your love feast celebrations.
With all boldness and fearlessness,
They join you without invitation.

These are the murmurers, the complainers,
The mockers, of the soon  return of Christ,
As prophesied by Jesus and the Apostles,
     that in the last days they would arise.

In view of such apostates as these,
Be praying in the Holy Ghost, Beloved,
And building yourselves up in the Spirit,
Be living daily in the sphere of God’s love.

Having compassion on the innocent deceived,
The sincere soul drawn into a damning lair;
And others, addicted to chains of sin,
With great caution, ****** from the fire.

This, then, is the message of God,
With compassion, caution and love,
Be ready always to contend for the faith,
For the glory and majesty of God above.
                                  -  by G. E. Parson
     06/272011

Written by
Jerry Howarth  Topeka, Ks.
      
703     Don Bouchard, Got Guanxi and 1 other
Don Bouchard

Don Bouchard  I see we are writing on similar themes. Jude is a book for our times.

0



1 reply

May 2017

MORE THEE, LESS OF ME

MURDERING BABIES

My First Airplane Ride

My Lost Toy Bear

MY SUNSHINE GAL

NO EXCUSES

NONE OF YOUR BIZWAX

ONE MAN'S TESTIMONY

Out Line for Devotions or Full sermon message

PLAY BALL !!

POEMS UPLIFTING

POSITIVE PRAGMATISM

PRAISE GOD I GOT SAVED !!

PRAISE GOD, JESUS CAME!

PRAISING GOD FOR AMERICA

Preaching On Facebook Live

PRESIDENTS DAY 2/19

RABBONI ! MASTER !

READ THE BIBLE !
Next page

            MORE POEMS OF FAITH

Hello & Poetry
Jerry Howarth   Poems  
Published147  Drafts54 Hidden16 Deleted3

ADJUST OR BUST

A GOOD DAY FOR BIKE RIDING

A GOOD DAY FOR RUNNING

A LESSON WELL LEARNED

A Man and His Religion

And Then There Is God

AND YE FATHERS

ANGELS, MINISTERING SPIRITS

An Old Testament Love Story

A PRAYER OF PRAISE

ARE THERE CONTRDICTIONS IN THE BIBLE?

Are You Certain?

ARE YOU GOD'S MAN?

" ARE YOU READY FOR 'FREDDY?' "

" ARE YOU READY FOR 'FREDDY?' " (DRAFT)

ARE YOU SELF-CENTERED OR CHRIST-CENTERED

As a Man Thinketh

Atheism, Agnosticism, Deism, Humanism

A TREE HOUSE

ATTENTION ALL FATHERS

BACK IN THE WHEEL CHAIR AGAIN

"But My God Shall Supply All Your Needs" 4:19

Butter Milk Boogie

Christ the Strength of My Life

CONTRASTS

COPD

DEALING WITH SET BACKS OF LIFE

Dear Lord, I'm Bored

DEATH COULD NOT HOLD HIM

Jerry Howarth Dec 2019
DOUBT NOT GOD'S FAITHFULNESS
FAITHFUL TO THE LORD
   The Bible tells of a man called Job,
Whose life was filled with great discord.
He lost all his family and fortune,
But through it all was faithful to the Lord.
            chorus
Faithful to the Lord, Faithful to the Lord,
My Brother and Sister, be faithful to the Lord!
Yes faithful to the Lord, faithful to the Lord,
Be like Job, be faithful to the Lord.

Have your friends all turned their backs upon you,
And left you walking all alone?
Just remember, God is always faithful,
and will love and keep you as his own.

To Abraham, Isaac and Jacob,
God's promise of faithfulness was given,
To Joshua, the Judges of Israel,
And to a man called Gideon.

Yes my friends, doubt not  God's faithfulness,
Read the long list of men and women
to whom God was faithful to supply of their needs.
Found in the book of Hebrews, chapter eleven.
From Jerry Howarth's Book of Orginal Poems

Written by
Jerry Howarth  Topeka, Ks.
      
24     3
1 comment

Esteem Others Better Than Y'self

EVOLUTION SAYS.........by G.E. Parson

FAITH OR FEAR

Faith -What is it?

Father Forgive

FEAR NOT TOMORROW

FIRE! FIRE!! FIRERRRR!!!!!!

Five Kings In A Cave

FRIENDS

God's Faithful Provision

Go Forth With Confidence

Going Up to Glory

GRAMPA BACK IN GRAMMA' KITCHEN

GRAMPA BOUGHT A NEW CAR

Grampa Cooking Hashbrowns

Grampa G.E. Parsons's Creed of Life

Grampa Parson's 4th of July experience

Grampa Sold His Garage

Grampa Took An Unplanned Train Ride

HAVE YOU EVER THOUGHT OF....

Heaven Is Only A Prayer Away

Heavenly Blessings

He Lied About Her

I Don't Get Mad, I get Even

IF CLOUDS HAD EYES

IF YOU HAVE EXPERIENCED

If you need a little help just call on me

IF YOU'RE TOO BUSY TO PRAY IF

I'm a physically Challenged Man

I'm so Blessed

I SEE GOD

IT ONLY TAKES BELIEVING

Jerry can't sleep

Jerry's Breakfast Sandwich

JESUS IS COMING

JESUS THE ONLY WAY

JESUS=What He Means To Me

JOHN Q.PRISONER

JOSHUA AND CALEB

JOY, PEACE AND HAPPINES

Judges of Israel Cont.

JUST RAMBLING AND RYMING

Keep Your Spiritual Eyes On Jesus

Legally Dishonest

LESSONS FROM THE PRODICAL SON

LIFE IS A CONSTANT STRUGGLE

Livn'n To Glorify The Lord

MAKE YOUR CHOICE

MARANATHA

ME AND MY SUNSHINE

Jerry Howarth Jan 2016
More Poems of Faith
CONTENDING FOR THE FAITH
  Certain men, described by Jude,
  As ungodly filthy dreamers,
  Condemned unto judgment,
  Evil speakers and flesh defilers

  Have subtly and secretly made themselves
  A part of the Christian faith,
  Purposely undermining salvation
  with ungodly speeches against God’s Grace.

Who are these insolent filthy dreamers
Who speak evil against Dignities with
                              disdain?
“Woe unto them” says the Apostle Jude,
“Woe unto Balaam, Core and Cain.”

Representative are these three of
The self-righteous for salvation,
The self-seeking for prestige and power,
The worshipper of wealth and mammon.

These are spots, ugly, despicable spots
In your love feast celebrations.
With all boldness and fearlessness,
They join you without invitation.

These are the murmurers, the complainers,
The mockers, of the soon  return of Christ,
As prophesied by Jesus and the Apostles,
     that in the last days they would arise.

In view of such apostates as these,
Be praying in the Holy Ghost, Beloved,
And building yourselves up in the Spirit,
Be living daily in the sphere of God’s love.

Having compassion on the innocent deceived,
The sincere soul drawn into a damning lair;
And others, addicted to chains of sin,
With great caution, ****** from the fire.

This, then, is the message of God,
With compassion, caution and love,

a ***** went partying

in the club friday night

where he met up with kenneth

trying to ruin his rep

party on yeah dude party on oh yeah

party on yeah dude party on oh yeah

a ***** went partying

in the club friday night

when he met up with susan

who had some champagne

she said, do you wanna share some of this

the ***** said YES

as

a ***** went partying

in the club friday night

he met up with thomas

who said just one word at a time

which was party, the ***** said who with

thomas said everybody

oh yeah let’s party come on dudes, party

a ***** went partying

in the club friday night

when he met up with brian

with a bourbon and coke

brian said, what do you want

wild turkey or jim beam

the ***** said, whatever you choose i’ll enjoy it, i guarantee it

the ***** went partying

in the club friday night

when he met up with caleb

who said, have you had enough

the ***** said no, not yet

i want to have 4 bottles of XXXX

and sink them down with you

the ***** went partying

in the club friday night

where he met up with peter

who says PARTY ON MATE

cause peter will drink any drink you put in front of him

and sometimes he will take someone else’s drink

like the *****’s

so the ***** went partying

down the club friday night

and with all the alcohol he drank

he gazed into the night

and say, PARTY RIGHT, DUDES

time to go home mr *****

Dear Caleb,

The sweet smell of caramel
dripping from the ocean
                 my words
As I stir my coffee
Tears careening my already
wet face,
There seems to be no fix
But to end it,
Blind to all else
I cannot wait to -
Take that next leap
                Off
Into the raging waters,
that will suffocate
and
Swallow me whole
As my lungs
Fill with water
And my sight is
Nothing but haze
A hand on my back guides me
To shore
Words perform CPR
Until my heart starts beating
And I am back on my feet.
Lifted from the sands
Carried on,
As if horseback
Into a sky of cerulean;
If only I knew
Your name..
Then I could thank you,
No matter how
Many times you say
It is unnecessary.
You’ve said it a thousand times,
Why can’t I hear it?
What is it about
Such true friendship
That a self destructive person
Cannot understand?
What is it about love
That I seem not to understand?

Galaxies pause when you walk on the spot light lit stage. Your shining smile brighter than the stars, no wonder all they could do was stare. Frozen in time, the journey you take them on with just the simplicity of your majestic voice lullabies them to a peaceful place where your arms is where they sleep.

Deep in me
I'm fading away
What makes me myself
No longer exists
Into an abyss
My eyes search for what is
But silent hope
Unfolds once again*
#death #Jesus #cross

Rosanna knew she was kidnapped. She was taken all those years ago. She never knew her new family was really as bad as they were. Her older brother Liam changed after high school. He wasn't ever really normal. This was something she always knew.
Being nine years younger than him, he was her protector. The day he snapped was about a week after he turned nineteen. He killed his parents and buried there bodies in unmarked graves behind the house. He was ready to **** himself when Rosanna got home from school.
He knew that before he took his life that there was something she should know. He told her that she was adopted legally but not obtained that way. The family that adopted her were the ones that took her away. He told her that he loved and her birthday was her own, that he had killed their parents and she would have to survive on her own. He said his final goodbye but he never would have known that she would snap to that day and he wouldn't let go.
She took the gun from his hands and threw it out the window. She pulled a chair over from the kitchen table and smacked her brother in the head with tears rolling down her face. She told him he was an idiot for forgetting the promise that he made just a few years ago. He said she'd never be alone, that he'd always be there. She reminded him of this while hugging him around the waist.
He wanted to be alone and tried to push her away. She wouldn't have it, especially not today. This only made her hold on tighter to the only family she had left. He picked her up and carried her back up to his room. She was still crying when he sat down on his bed and told her that he was sorry. She cried in his arms, late into the night.
She woke in her brothers room, on his empty bed. Frantically she ran down stairs to find her brother there. He was setting the kitchen table with a breakfast made for two. He saw her and he smiled. He went and scooped her up. He was feeling sorry for making her cry. He didn't  know his actions were the partial onset of her taking her life.
She was diagnosed as schizophrenic exactly one year from that day. He had no idea she would trip the way she did. The year she turned fifteen she went on a trip. She heard her brother and her boyfriend, they were the voices in her head. They were telling her to **** herself and that is what she did.
She thought about taking a rope and jumping from the balcony but she didn't want to display herself  for all the world to see. Her next option was to take a knife and slit both her wrists but that was just the thing everyone would expect. Finally she came to the decision such as this, she would get the bottle of ibuprofen and take all the pills at once.
Her brother had come home to find her laying on her bed. He thought she was sleeping but really she was dead. She wasn't too far gone, though, she was barely breathing. He sat her up against the bed, laid a towel on her lap and stuck his finger down her throat. She threw up the contents of her stomach. The whole pills and all.
She woke up unexpectedly in her brother arms. Another body was now laying in another unmarked grave. This one belonged to her ex-boyfriend. Liam's reason for this crime was this and only this. His sister nearly took her life because of the voices that were triggered when her boyfriend told her to the face that he was cheating on her.
He got all this from the note that was on the bed beside her. When she laid there on her bed going cold from all the poison. After he had saved her life he took the life of the person that didn't deserve any affection from his angel ever again.
Liam now has a new toy, a nineteen year old name Niall. It's been four years from the day his sister tried to take her life. She is happy with a guy that she can truly love. Caleb is the cutest thing and he doesn't mind that sometimes she is going to breakdown and he will see her cry. He doesn't even mind that fact he's going to have to share with Niall and Liam at times. She knows that Caleb will protect her just like Liam had. He knows of Liam's crimes. It's all happily ever after because her heart won't be broken this time.

Lying alone in the darkened room she could almost feel him there next to her. Closing her eyes she allowed both body and mind to be whisked away by her imagination. His steady heart beat and full breaths had always been a contrast to her somewhat faster heart and shallower breathing. She could feel the heat that always started in her chest begin to smolder to the surface. Never able to pinpoint the exact origin of this fire she liked to imagine it began in her heart and eventually burned its way out to become a visible tribute to the love she felt. Normally her body only flushed like this when they were actually lying together, usually tangled up and as close to each other as humanly possible. This passion was nothing more and nothing short of the true love few are allowed to experience in their life times and while *** would always be a factor in a relationship this heavy their feelings ran so much deeper for each other. She thought to herself how funny life could be, a man she once considered childish unorganized and dense had proved himself to be more than what he appeared. What she had taken as a childlike attitude was really his drive to achieve his dreams despite many setbacks, his disorganization was a quirk that had imbedded itself in his family for generations and it was this very fault that allowed him to live his life fully, while she could never imagine not planning her life out day by day, he preferred to take his days as they came, this had come as a shock to her at first but soon became a wonderful source of amusement. Plans she had set for a day were often stomped upon by his lack of thought and by many this would deem unacceptable but while her plans may not have worked he always found a way to make that day Amazing. His density really was what it appeared to be and yet it also held its place in his and her lives. With out his unbending will he would not have become the hockey player she had fallen madly in love with, they would also not be together for it was against her parents wishes they had been seeing each other for two years. Two years of having each other to hold, two years of becoming each others best friends. She knew more about him then he sometimes could remember about himself! He also had a way of astounding her with knowledge he had retained about her likes ,dislikes and about her life over all. One memory stood clearly out from the rest, they had gone to his mothers house for dinner, she had been asked what she would like to drink and seeing as how everyone else had asked for milk she joined in not wanting to be a bother. The part about this memory she loved was the look he gave her, it was quizzical and upon prompting he said "but you don't like milk, you never drink it!" she was quite taken aback because of course he was right, she never drank milk if she could help it, it left a sour taste in her mouth, but what had really astounded her was the simple fact that she had never told him this it was merely something he had noticed on his own. She could feel her love surging for him in that moment and now in this room. She breathed a sigh of contentment knowing that while hundreds of miles away there was still one boy in this world she could call hers. The heavy weight of strange linens no longer bothered her she knew that with each breath and thought she moved closer to sweet sleep. He always did seem to be the last thought to pass through her mind, the last image to flash before her eyes, and on most nights the last voice she heard before she drifted off. After glancing at the red glowing of her clock she closed her eyes and the very last whisper to float through her mind was "I love you".

Grey ashes stain the skin of my thighs. I mutter a curse word at Caleb’s direction before dusting it off. He takes another long drag. It reeks of menthol and dead leaves. I ******* hate cigarettes. And most people I knew who smoked were as toxic and temporary as the object of their vice. It seemed everyone I love fancied smoking their lungs out and I had always been treated like another stick burning too close to the filter. Over time I had mastered the art of secretly holding my breath whenever they were all trying to burn their anguish. Now I feel like I’d asphyxiate to death if I try to avoid breathing in his exhaust. Sixteen year old me would have already pushed him to his demise just for the mere act of lighting a cigarette in front of me but three years had passed, and though it might not have happened in a rather drastic way as we retained our nihilism and self-righteousness, we had changed. I have my tamed my repulsion towards what I like to deem as a foible of a majority of people, and he went from being a quiet, well-behaved, clean-cut charmer to this womanizing edgelord ******. We were sitting on the same ledge we often sat on as high schoolers, contemplating whether jumping off would guarantee our death more compared to downing a dozen pads of Panadol but quickly realizing we didn’t want to die in this economy, with this **** administration slowly extinguishing half of our population as how those corrupt fascist rulers from that book he liked basically created the plague that caused mass genocide in third world countries. These days, we rarely talk about dying or fighting the oppressive beliefs we’ve been taught to perpetuate since birth. I find myself mentally counting all the times I’ve said to my father that I loved him as Caleb drones on about the girl I saw leaving his apartment this morning when I came to return a book I borrowed. This punk claims she was cute but kept on contradicting herself, says he met her when he reluctantly went with his guy friend to their church.

      “ She kept on preaching me about hell and mortal sins just last week but I figure that after last night the big guy upstairs wouldn’t be too sure about her salvation either,noh?”I rolled my eyes at him. I miss nice, good-mannered, geeky and gentlemanly Caleb. The emotional barricades and sarcastic comebacks had always been part of his package but he’s always been wary about hurting people unintentionally whether it was direct or passive. I don’t know how someone who still orders the same fruit drink whenever he eats out, who still likes the same bands, who still reads the same genre of manga and weird Russian novels, who still watches the same crime shows and anime could have changed in a way I can’t fully grasp. I comfort myself with the thought that he is just a boy after all, a boy with a tendency to be a ****** *******. “ Cut the bull, Caleb, I know you could care less about the religious ramblings of the poor *****. You got what you wanted, didn’t you? She got you off so let her have the same benefit through preaching . For someone who ****** around, you’re **** at people who are doing your libido a favor.”
       It’s a weak argument. With a face like his, he doesn’t even need to ask anyone to be with him. Girls have always been flocking to him. Weird thing is that women seem to like this downgraded version of him more. Ugh. When you’re as pretty and as interesting as him, life can be **** at times but at least you can pretend to be a lead in an indie coming-of-age movie as The Smiths play in the background.

“Wow. I never took you for a defender of their faith. Are you a believer too? Chill. You know that I was just kidding.”

“I’m just saying, even if we don’t share the same beliefs as them or if we have none, that’s no reason to say mean things about them.”

“ I didn’t mean it like that naman, eh. Lighten up. You know I am a good old Catholic boy, why, I even got my forehead drawn on during Ash Wednesday.”

“ Yeah, right and I’ve been singing in choir for a decade and collecting alms from the pews. You are a disgrace to your Church.”, I scoffed in reply. He just laughs and gets up to throw his cigarette **** in the silver trash bin he always had in his car. After lifting himself up, he motions for me to join him on the roof. I stand up from the rock I was sitting on and follow him.

“ I think we’re going to hell”, he jokes as he took my left foot to remove my sneaker. He snatches the other pair from my hands and crouches down to reach inside the driver’s seat where he puts both of our shoes.

“ Isn’t it unfair how we could be thrown into the pits of a burning void when there’s not even someone up there to judge us?”

“ Maybe there is but we’re just ******* who’d rather rely on the theories of our favorite philosophers for meaning because it’s terrifying to accept the futility of our existence as it was given to us by the big Guy upstairs.”

“ That’s just you. I don’t know if I believe in Nietzsche, Kierkegaard, nor God Himself. It’s all just bleh.”

“ Well, if you don’t believe in science or nihilism or God, then there must be something you believe in.”

       I almost laughed —not at him, but how pathetic my answer would be. I almost told him that the last thing I believed in threw me away like trash and shattered what little love I had left for myself. I almost answered him, half-crying, half-laughing that even if I didn’t have any of it to keep me on my feet, I used to believe that love could somehow hold all of us together; that a dysfunctional family is still a family as long as a parent loves their child enough, that even a bully can be a friend if you keep forgiving and trying for their sake, that it’s okay to tread through eggshells and landmines as long as the person who’s led you there is holding your hand. And I thought I stopped believing in fairy tales at nine years old. I knew I wouldn’t be able to crawl out of this rabbit hole for months to end if I let myself slip again this time with my emotions. So I keep my pathetic thoughts to myself and avoid his gaze.

       It’s late and I’m pretty sure back in the city, the person I used to believe in, the person who made the thought of smoking more unbearable to I, the person who’s the reason why I’m on this ledge again is probably either sleeping or talking to another girl.  A pretty China doll with delicate features, a shy demeanor, and an eloquence for the things he likes. Maybe he’s kissing her and for the first time, he wouldn’t taste like the last girl he loved. Maybe he’s fumbling for her zipper while I’m here trying to grasp how cold and unbearable was the truth he gave me about my worth as a person. Maybe he’s stalking that girl he always had a crush on since high school. Maybe tonight he’d die. Suddenly. Horribly. Maybe he’d disappear and everything would disappear with him. Maybe I would try smoking too just to spite him or I could stop pricking my throat with my index finger every time I feel I’ve consumed an amount intended for a human when I know I have to be a porcelain toy. Maybe I could stop measuring my wrists because like my thighs, like my stomach, like my heart, it takes too ******* long for them to finally shrink into the size that’s most convenient for everyone to love. I should probably stop cutting too— even if it is only in places they cannot see— no one likes a scarred ****** up excuse of  a girl after all. Maybe I could stop thinking that there is something horribly wrong with myself and I could pray for forgiveness for it to a being I don’t fully believe in. If I could just try, if I could try harder, if I could try to force my worn out spirit to try again, a lot of these possibilities might be achieved instead of just being another list in my head. I tell myself that maybe tomorrow, when I’m not twenty feet above ground and when dying isn’t the only thing on my mind, I could try but for now I’ll do my best not to jump.

        The night sky is so stretched out and I’ve never seen it as bright as it is tonight, because I’ve stopped looking at it for a long time and I’ve forgotten how all- consuming the feeling of so is, I finally concede and cry. I think about God and the universe and all those dead men that tried to explain the void that’s been within all of us ever since we were born. How Kierkegaard died slumped at an alley, probably drunk out of his mind. How Cobain refused to go on. Maybe I don’t entirely believe in the existence of Almighty beings and maybe I also refuse to accept that life is pointless but at the very least, I want to believe that this reality is never still meaning that even if I quit my existence, the world will go on without me. In that context, none of us truly matter all on our own in this world. It helps to know that we’re all part of something so much bigger than our feeble emotions, that the Universe is one big organism that contains us yet at the same time is inside us, that we are nothing but systems that modulate and emulate themselves for themselves. It’s comforting to be small and insignificant as a speck of dust in this world as it suggests this pain that’s been tearing at your soul for what seemed like centuries now is a force that can’t survive in the slow descent of mankind into oblivion. It is a mere pulse in the system. It is fleeting and will one day no longer hold this power over you. Or so I believe.

       It dawns unto me I still haven’t answered his question but I figured he already took my silence for an indefinite answer as he turned his gaze to look ahead instead of at me. I do the same and soldier on.

-W.

a gangly man
wearing thick rimmed glasses
that made his eyes seem
like those of a fish
wearily looking out
upon a world he cannot understand
read from crumpled piece of paper
the name of the next
person that had signed up
to take the stage

“Mr…
Youling?
is there,
a Mr.
Youling,
in the house?”

nobody answered
heads turned
looking to see if they could find him
but nobody knew who he was
and everybody knew he wasn’t
going

“ummm…
ok.”
the gangly man
said
“next up we have
David Proctor.
Please,
welcome him.”

David Proctor
got up
within moments

guitar in hand,
lyrics in head,
he played for us
some song about a girl
or his father or
something like
that

but in the second song
a man walked through the door
looking no different,
acting no different,
than any other
but he moved upon the stage
swift,
calm,
controlled

David Proctor
didn’t know what to do

the man
who had just waltzed in
went up to the microphone
and said

“ladies,
gentlemen,
how’re you
tonight?”

“My name is John,
what’s yours?
or are you afraid
of old Mr. Youling?
even if that’s not
my
name.”

“I said
good evening
ladies and
gentlemen!
good evening
and hello
to
you!”

“My name is John!
My name is John!
My name is John!
when are you going
to tell me
YOUR
name?”

I rose then
I don’t know why
I don’t how
but I did

my name is Caleb
I said

“Good good,
Caleb,
way to
be
bold!
Way to stand
up
in more ways
then
one!”

but I sat down then
remembering what I was
doing,
what was
happening.

John just stood there

“So tonight,
I’m going
to
read a
poem!
A poem,
people,
a poem!
Get excited!
Be amazed!
Don’t be so
pissy!”

“and the name of the poem
is
this”

“hello
hello
hello
the noise
of my voice
goes out
but not in!

hello
you people
old,
new,
and
forgetful
people
I say hello to you
but you never
say hello
back!

this
world is coming
to a stand-
still
because of
people
like
YOU

YOU
people
too afraid to appreciate,
to acknowledge,
to love,
to fear,
to say hello,
to say goodbye
to say that you’ve failed
to say that I’ve failed
failed to entertain
to amuse
to make you laugh
to make you think

but here’s the thing
YOU
I know I haven’t done
any
of
THAT

there YOU
are
sitting silently
glaring at me from behind
your
drinks
but
even as you hate me
you love me
for saying the things
you don’t even realize
you want to scream to the
hills

hello
hello
hello
people
YOU
people
who sit
there thinking about me
even as you try not
to

goodnight
goodnight
goodnight
YOU
I’ll see you
again
forever.”

but as he left
he stuck his head back in
and said,
like a punctuation mark,

“enjoy Mr. Proctor.”

and then I knew
he was gone

gone like an exhaled breath
and from that moment on
we could never breath quite
as easy

Fitz
Fritz
Fido
Sandy
Spencer
Chaplain
Bernard
Jesse
Snoopy
Charlie
Charles
Fred
Freddy
Bones
Remmy
Ren­a
Reno
Tony
Julian
Julie
Frisco
Meghan
Addison
Robby
Buddy
Rudy
F­riedrich
Fredrick
Bernie
Rudolph
Adolf
Ferdinand
Rose
Cassie
Cassidy
Lee
Balto
Little *****
Allen
Alvin
Jake
Demi
Randy
Alex
Richard
Alexis
Kenneth
Ken­ny
Chris
Jose
Josey
Rodger
Moe
Joe
Emilio
Walt
Emily
Emma
Maddie
­Anna
Jafar
Aladin
Jasmine
Genie
******
Amber
Gracie
Ramen
Gordy
G­ordon
Jordie
James
Bucky
Huff
Manny
Sam
Samantha
Mary
Marie
Tila
­Rita
Cathy
Tammy
Mickey
Cam
Amelia
Rene
Jeb
Dan
Bagel
Tommy
Donut­
Bubbles
Blossom
Buttercup
Mark
Cody
Andy
Cristo
Andrea
Whiskers
­Mike
Bill
Billy
George
Geo
Joy
Mitch
Trigger
Tigger
Stephen
Archi­medes
Anya
Duncan
Nitro
Crash
Bub
Crystal
Egor
Bernadette
Cammy
T­immy
Antonio
Natasha
Natalia
Ivan
Abbey
Abdul
Carly
Aaron
Omega
F­inn
Nina
Debby
Tomato
Tabby
Artie
Archie
Noah
Kyle
Alfie
Alfred
Conrad
Conner
******
G­unner
Fry
Fries
*******
Constance
Connie
Frank
Fran
Candice
D­andy
Lucy
Lou
Louis
Quincy
Doogle
Dubie
Dakota
Ace
Casey
Barry
Te­rry
Trenton
Gabe
Laurie
Cornelius
Kabob
Sky
Skylar
Rufus
Louie
Ba­rton
Kimmy
Angel
Capri
Basil
Cy
Ruby
Emerald
Eleanea
Elenor
Barth­olomew
Jazz
Dreamer
Thunder
Topaz
Amethyst
Salsa
Meril
Dodo
Toto
­Eric
Barbera
Hannah
Katie
Zoey
Ben
Pinto
Squanto
Columbus
Columbo
Porgy
Bess
Clark
Savannah
Ken­dra
Marco
Leise
Toby
Trevor
Tresten
Treven
Adrienne
Caleb
Carlyn
­Ricky
Gibby
Donny
Han
Solo
Hans
Gabby
Dirk
Spot
Sebastian
Dee
Sco­oby Doo
Shaggy
Polly
Reginald
Burger
Steak Sauce
Ethan
Bradberry
Lucky
Fergie
Cheese
Boxer
Napoleon
Snowball­
Gerald
Jeremy
Benji
Gemma
Pal
Mal
Preston
Jack
Jackson
Molly
Mac­kenzie
Alexie
Alicia
Dora
Olivia
Salvador
Beast
Beauty
Oliver
Dal­e
Rim
Marley
Diego
*****
Bobby
Ralston
Zeke
Rooney
Plato
Cole
Nep­tune
Sailor
Frida
Rico
Dali
Veronica
Victor
Copeland
Swift
Riley
­Tubs
Lassie
Yo-yo
Harvey
Lemonade
Coke
Pepsi
Tanya
Camille
Token
­Laser
Beam
Seamus
Dorthy
Ian
Moby

his name was Hamilton
my name was Caleb

the dude was on the outside
inside was more from his film

also in the bunch,
the duke, the doctor,
the fab 4, the dogs
in neon and inverted
colors

it was not all Hamilton’s
but his work was some of the best

weird stuff on the back wall
but still some awesome pieces
from a man obsessed with
movies

Hamilton was my friend
If only for my visit
Hamilton was my dad’s friend
(My dad’s good at making them)

but in the end
I was there for
art work

and though I bought something not of Hamilton’s
I think he appreciated me and my dad and my mom
(she likes the dude too)

but Hamilton told me
I’m looking to propose to a lady like your mom
and I laughed
that’s good
but Hamilton
we’ve got to
go

thus is the fate of the artist and the
customer

On to a perfect relationship
Anxouisly faded through life with a pen on a pad
Calulating dreams like its math
Adding cash like it'll last
The treasures of past stashed in a bag
The tears that soak through cracks
The ones from a broken heart
Who hugs bravely
Giving love greatly through
Trails and phases where hate is racing
Through the veins of babies
Chasing the oppurtunity to accuse a partner
Not knowing it abuses the sparkles
Of life and ridulcles the author
Traveling through countries until the soul is faded
And finished changing into the presence that made it

The ghost of Bill Kettchel still sits glumly on the bluff
Not but a few paces from where he  was fell
He has risen majestic at night from the well.

Still screaming out loud, Hey give em hell boys, give em hell

Dropped in head a foremost by the heel of his boot
Give em hell goes the echo, by god give em all  hell

The fields glistened  brightly with crimson and gore
The fighting was grisly like none seen before.
All stacked up  like cord-wood a good  ten foot high, they smote grey and  smote blue
by  the hip and by the thigh.

Give em hell boys by god, came the echoing cry.

Now musket ball splatter, now cannon grape rain.
March through the death gauntlet and line up again.
As the dying lie crying Under shade tree spread wide.


I'm a Yankee doodle dandy. Yankee doodle do or die.
A real live nephew of my uncle Sam born on the fourth of July.
Look away ,look away look away.

Dumped in head a  foremost  by foot and by heel. My self, Andy, Caleb  
Rest daily in the well. By day we lie peacefull, at night we rebell.
Especially those nights when the moon is aglow
We rise to the mouth and we holler and shout.

Give em hell boys  by god, just send them all straight to hell.