Why?

Would it bother you to know
I still think of you, when I fly
Would you care, do you wonder
How I now ever reach the sky
After a life of sleeping in gutters
Do you need to know anything
Do you need to know why
You see I was that told that why
Is the bad question
It makes her mad, I didn't know
Life was a big old testing session
Why ask a question
You know?
Wouldn't you just like to know
Not for any reason
Not for anyone's intercession
Just ask and get an answer
Why every body seems sad
When we live in a time
Never excelled
The rhymes fly
And we find heaven
Somewhere above us all

Frank

A brain without nuance
Without thought beyond need
Feeling only, no logic
All it could do was scream
Came across a gentle child
Throwing flowers in the stream
His reaction wasn't evil
He tossed her in
But she didn't float
Like the flowers
He had massive amounts
Of brutish power
He only wanted affection
Should society be considered guilty
For allowing a piece of flesh
Possessor of a mindless rage
Somehow innocent
Be acquitted?

Eden Lost

Should we lose Eden what will be left for us?
Human evolved forms shaped from clay there
Every billion people added to the total more
A garden cannot feed, there'll be less for all of us.
Even if it is assigned per mouth, it won't be fair
People who cannot speak, still hunger in their core
There will be an enormous collapse, a grave change
And then we can watch, in a short time, permanent
As the lush green fades to lifeless brown
Every day passes slowly
As the death desecrates the sacred ground

Explain

Each damn time that I try to explain
You close your eyes and seem to sleep
You say I'm a fool, you think I'm a liar
Even if you choose to say that I'm insane
It doesn't make it that part of my being
I might not be normal, but I will flee a fire
I'm not perfect but I think you're the one
Abandons others with a job to be done
Don't find your hope in me
I'm not your villain
Filled of such foolishness
Your scenarios remain
I won't give you any more words
As everything around you burns

Midnight Screams

There is an indigenous legend

That the hunger for flesh of man

Can drive a spirit to madness

A being in the dark so wretched

He lingers on the edge of sanity

The morning sun causes it to vanish

The Wendigo hungers

Can only be fed by human flesh

For his soul is empty, and famished

Night is dangerous and the danger lingers

The weak fall victim, eaten until death

“And it was in that moment of distress and confusion that the whip of terror laid its most nicely calculated lash about his heart.”  Algernon Blackwood

Imhotep

No, Imhotep never died
His flesh was preserved
Into forever unlife
For his great crime
He sought to restore his love
Back to living
Using the secret scrolls
Releasing the spell
To restore Ankhsenamen
To living breath
He violated the tomb
Seeking to save her
Not waiting to enter
The eternal realms together
He sought to reunite
So they might be afterward
Never parted
He was caught by tomb guardians
Taken to the priests of the dead
And preserved by spells
Covered in gauze
Entombed as a guard
Consigned to watch
Over his princess
His lifeless living eyes
Stared forth for many millennia
But his long wait ended
When archeologists found him
He returned to his mission
Trying to restore life to the dead
His reincarnated love

Forsaken future

The future is built upon the past
Fires are burning in the last city
And they will never be able to stop
This city, this utopia was our final dream
All of the other dreamers are gone
Yes, I was the last
I thought a future beckoned
Beautiful, civil, kind
My vision were mistaken
And for this I was crippled
I had committed blasphemy
Lived in the center of entropy
Where nothing was waiting
Standing amidst absolute black
Ignored, hated, silenced, attacked
I was told my views were insane
That I was a fool
Irresponsible, betraying
Told from the first to be quiet
My world was one of pain
They then sent me away
I was the forsaken
My flesh permanently broken
My mind afire with pain
Taken far from home
I learned that there is no safety
Far from their truth I remained
I was called a thief
Of time, of dreams
Of hope, of sleep
Here I stand waiting
There might be nothing coming
But I have faith, believe in hope
And loving
Even if darkness covers all
Even if the truth is unpleasant
We have choices to make
Our pain can only slow us down
It can't stop anything

The Curse Endures

The gypsy foretold 

"Even a man who is pure in heart

And says his prayers by night

May become a wolf when the wolves bane blooms

And the autumn moon is bright"

The bite, the moment of transition

From that point onward, a life transfixed

To hunt, to howl, to pursue all manner of prey

In day's light he'd enter shame and perdition

Should the moon shine, his humanity eclipsed

Then all men should bow and pray

For the wolf man is hunting

And any offered victim will be slain

A howl of victory offered

The curse is to blame

For the humans will seek a wolf

Or mad dogs, or some sort of pack

But his hunt was completed

And he now waits

To attack again, attack

damnati ad ludos

We come from different worlds, we are known as the damned 

We bear a curse, we've been condemned to the combat games

Our number includes criminals, murderers, rapists and scum

Some come from the elite, on the wrong side of the emperor

Great numbers come from defeated prisoners of Rome's wars

When we fight, one wins, one dies, all bleed on the arena's sand

Most of us will die, but we've warrior blood pumping in the veins

Winning duels and battles, most of the best are left quite numb

Trained in different styles of combat, we entertain the empire

We scream in pain, but refuse to allow others to see our tears

And though it is held off as a enticement, few see it as such

We will never be free, we are the condemned slaves

And yet we are worthy of respect, and of love

"Already long ago, from when we sold our vote to no man, the People have abdicated our duties; for the 
People who once upon a time handed out military command, high civil office, legions — everything, 
now restrains itself and anxiously hopes for just two things: bread and circuses."  Juvenal

The odds for or against you

Three hundred men spent three days fighting a hundred thousand
The 300 Spartans were warriors, and likely very brave
For those who'd fought bravely as a Persian
Winning or losing, lives were lost
It doesn't devalue the effort, or result
Failure doesn't remove lives lost
Or hopes given
Nor what they gave
We should not devalue results of such acts
Who knows what one might save
Or what they might do
What changes everything
Is the idea that one person can change the world
And who knows, it might actually be you

Ideological Collision

When lives are lost in war it is soul crushing
But when lives are lost in a contest of ideas
Some see those who die to become martyrs
But the truth is, humanity is diminished
When arms and soldiers cause destruction
In battles in villages that become arenas
Giving no respite or defense, nor quarter
At the end of the war was a reckoning
Not healing, only wounds, when finished

For Further Reading

Mask Masquerade

Every time I have fear I count the occasions
When all fears became realized, if too late
In time we will consume the young
Eating seed, saved for the next planting
We'll take our earth and carve from it
And our children will starve for it
When one nation shall slaughter nation
Then shall we enter a moral stagnation
Finality bleeds, we can't escape this fate
My disgust is paramount, I can't disguise
That we'll reach the zenith of culture
With architecture reaching the sky
But we are impoverished forever
And this vulgar fetid species will die
DNA won't help, even as foundations
Our structure is built upon sand and hate
Beyond repair, nothing to build
For we've lost the chance to rise
We are disguised from our masquerade
Our lies will linger, we will hide our eyes
And masks will be our refuge, must be worn
For we are sheep, and we must be shorn

“Masks beneath masks until suddenly the bare bloodless skull.”  Salman Rushdie

(This was written prior to Covid, it is not a political commentary, regarding, at least, covid.)

To Hear a Call

When an idea appears that a crusade or jihad seeks to fight
It is a high tide crest of a wave and seems to threaten all
Heart's response comes in defence an ideal, desire to protect
Ecstatic visions and answer to prayers leads some to act
This motivation leads to achievement, sends a foe to flight
Not every warrior hears the same voice, or a similar call
Some are moved by reward, never attempt to being perfect
Still, defending against an invader, or invading an alien land
Reflects a form of honor, can be a way to demonstrate faith
Even if it requires taking life with one's hand

“In their efforts to impose universal worship, men have unsheathed their swords and killed one another. They have invented gods and challenged each other: "Discard your gods and worship mine or I will destroy both your gods and you!”  Fyodor Dostoyevsky

That Evil Mask

24 times the pain of the killing blow
Knowing you and your anger
And the mask you show
I can't take more
You've left spawn
And spore
My mind has entered madness
Your goal achieved
Filled with malice
I can't go on
No not any more
Oblivion
Not any more
No

Ashes Scattered and Spread

Created and cared for
A seed grown in eternal womb
Code written upon the soul
For delivery upon the earth
To some a blessing
To others a curse
This prestigious moment
An anniversary of birth
When other lives
Sent to the tomb
But there is nothing universal
Except for existence
The world is now new
As she opens her eyes
Sees for the first time
The last time it has perfect innocence
Beginning the new chapter
Of a scroll, a book, carved in stone
Shattered templates crash
Crumble to dust
Stone made soft
As the voice is heard
By the world alone, finally
As one who lingers in the place
As all of the other souls embrace
Leaving the temporal world
Behind
Forever and permanently
The dance is over
As time disintegrates into ash
Residue of a life
Now scattered to the winds
I stand and watch
Waiting to leap
Waiting for the wind
To carry me far away

That Redhead

Filled with foolish male feelings and ego
When I saw her more than 35 years ago
Stunning in her being, her hair a flame
After that I never saw another the same
Many are beautiful, many have appeal
None possess all traits, she was the ideal
Intellect, kindness, beauty, a wicked guile
I knew I'd like to be with her a long while
By her I heal, I long to live to be with her
I'll never leave until winds hold my ash
I dream we'll be together forever
With love that will last

 

From War Crimes to Rehabilitation

 Since the end of the war historians have argued 

That Japan was not a fascist but a military nation

  The Code of Bushido a martial consideration

Used to condone violence, slaughter of civilians

It denied honorable treatment of defeated millions

Japan lost the peace, before considering surrender

USS Missouri the surrender, an empire dismembered

But the Japanese learned that the end to be different

While victims of the Japanese war sorrowed
The victors were generous with terms

A difficult peace made was made deferential

In the face of a brand new bipolar world

 

Your Sphinx

You know, I'd done everything I knew how to do
But you said there was more left so I was through
You can't fix what someone is born with, or thinks
Even if what you believe is an ultimate pure truth
You will always find any fault so I bid you adieu
I'd have given everything I own for a single glimpse
Of the paradise you want, but until you decide
I'm a statue, staring out, a solitary silent sphinx
Saying nothing, and forever quiet in your presence

More than just live

In the present era
We just live
Without a mind for the past
Or knowing a place
We surrender therein
The memories that last
My ancestors were Vikings
People called them names
Scourge of the North men
An inheritance of DNA
Flesh breathes the legacy
They were explorers
Feared throughout history
Riding dragon prowed ships
Cutting through the seas
Dangerous was their path
Propelled by winds and oar
They reached the far shores
Watchers raised warnings
As the Vikings approached
Quietly, inexorably
Dragons pushed quickly
Gliding through the waves
The Vikings took up arms
Survival the war waged
Their beings forged in steel
Called the Northern Storm
Nothing stood in their way
Nor withstood their rage

Members of the Tribe

The howl at the moon
A hunger for the wild
Companions in war
Trackers in the hunt
Two species attuned
Members of our tribe
Sharing joy and adored
Serving at the front
Dogs are more than pets or just friends
We form a symbiote
And we could never find a better friend

“Dogs are our link to paradise. They don't know evil or jealousy or discontent. To sit with a dog on a hillside on a glorious afternoon is to be back in Eden, where doing nothing was not boring--it was peace.”  Milan Kundera

When it was over, we could only then see...

 

I believe killing civilians is evidence of total war

Where there is total war, do not expect any mercy

From 1937 to 1945 the Chinese and Japanese war

Saw biological warfare, war crimes, and slaughter

When two atomic bombs were finally dropped

Who could argue that this was out of character

Nagasaki and Hiroshima would thereafter

Be remembered for this extreme sanction

Of a war fought in constant violence

From the internment of the Japanese in America

And the theft of their land by government interest

To the dropping of the bombs to slay innocents

There was nothing about this war

That the ending should surprise

No one is innocent

Just the same

Few were found guilty

And that is a measure

Of blood upon every hand

Innocence was not respected

And hatred, was an engine of conflict

For Further Reading

Skull Collecting

Imagine if the carnivores of the animal kingdom

Kept skulls of every human that they had killed

Stacking them in pyramid pile, showing them off

We might find them frightening or more dangerous

I think we'd find them to be hateful or fearsome

Where they are proud, we think of quotas filled

If they attack, kill them, don't even count the shots

Ask if you're equal to the task, especially adventurous

If killing one another is damnable

Humans are easily the most dangerous animal

It has been noted that the Jenghiz-Khanite Mongol invasion of the thirteenth century was less cruel, for the Mongols were mere barbarians who killed simply because for centuries this had been the instinctive behavior of nomad herdsmen toward sedentary farmers. To this ferocity Tamerlane [Timur] added a taste for religious murder. He killed from Qur'anic piety. He represents a synthesis, probably unprecedented in history, of Mongol barbarity and Muslim fanaticism, and symbolizes that advanced form of primitive slaughter which is murder committed for the sake of an abstract ideology, as a duty and a sacred mission.  Grousset, The Empire of the Steppes

In the 1980s

At the radar sites upon the top of the world

Both Soviets and Americans had stations

Numerous times both sets of radars failed

We came simple minutes from mutual annihilation

A test might be suspicious, an ambitious war game

Could trigger instant death, generational radiation

A couple leaders had visions of a future different

Not the same Cold War bipolar madness, impotent

Each saw a new kind of world free from the duel

Both sides alive, neither side the villain

Some choose to give the victory to the other leader

For the cold war anxiety warped minds in each state

But it doesn't matter who won, it matters it was over

And my life had almost 15 years between wars

At last, we could focus on actual hope

Until it all went to Hell again

Continuing, endless wars, without declaration

Continuing endless bleeding, without reason

Taking human lives and destroying them

War is treason

Sigh

She said she loved him
But he didn't know why
She tried to convince him
He'd just sigh
For some life is easy
For others life is cruelty
And as for me?
I'm moved to love deeply
Maybe I'm a fool.
Yep, that's it. Why lie?














“Nevertheless, in this sea of human wretchedness and 
malice there bloomed at times compassion, as a pale
flower blooms in a putrid marsh.”  Henryk Sienkiewicz

Dark December

A beautiful yet desperate poet said
Oui, je suis fini, no more I can do
Welcome to my final December
I've decided, this life was at an end
My life will not be remembered
My love forgotten and life forsaken
Broken full through, gone rotten
I awakened and realized
To have hope you must believe
After years of the abuse
I chose to end it all
I'm now refusing the pain
No more questions, nothing left to ask
I am doomed and my life over
Time to plan the final act

"Chatterton, the marvellous boy,
The sleepless soul that perished in his pride."  William Wordsworth

To Flee From Bal Amrath

Washed ashore after the dragon ship was crushed
Tidal force waves and a great storm unyielding
One survivor, a female of light skin, and massive form
Barely awakened, when she saw a tide of men rush
Her instinct was to swing steel, her bulk heaving
The smaller wave of men retreated
And the giant was now warned
Echoes growing loudly upon the shore's edge
Vaguely human groans rising, again
Bal Amrath a legendary place
A city built on narrow island
With treasures humans had chased
Here was a visitor without the riches in mind
The purpose unknown, beyond survival
Defending tribes fell back
Great restraint for the wild
In the distance could be seen
The tallest citadel known to race of man
Amid growing chants and miserable sounds
Led the giant to think that she'd need to be aware
For they came closer, now to defend her ground
Onward they came, wave after wave, after wave
And before long their numbers waned
Bleeding upon the white sands
But from that distance the tower seemed useless
A magnet lure, drawing warriors, encouraging hubris
But his large being was immune,
For she had long ago fought in wars
She'd been richly rewarded, led great armies, and had glory
The temples and riches, the towers and walls here held no allure
Nor the citadel, nor the palace, nor the treasure rooms
For she was without avarice, without petty games
She had no fear of others, no need to purposelessly go to her doom
Eventually the numbers stopped swarming
The leaders realized
They'd formed a simple nuisance
Better they let her go on
And keep their heads attached to their bodies
No need for a new form

(Bal Amrath is an homage to names of places and of gods by Robert E. Howard)

Ready and Waiting

When death comes calling I'll be waiting. Ready for the next world I'll be facing. I won't cry, I'll not sorrow. For there is a future alive, there is tomorrow.  A day will come when we and every single thing will be redeemed, the cities and buildings, the oceans and the streams. Time doesn't wait for any person, life is a rehearsal for something greater, and the future is greater than our dreams. We aren't promised anything, but hope. If we can find reason to do that, we will become the masterpiece that our creator wrote. I am ready. I've always been ready.

My Only Hope

They exist who feel this
That this is all there is
They wonder if nothing waits
After a long journey and wrath
When every act leads to hate
The first must finally be last
I resist, persist in my belief
My flesh called out to, taken
My soul is called to be released
This world, now well forsaken
Lord I haven't been deceived
I am so ready for the pine box
This flesh of mine faded in time
To a beat of the doomsday clock
God let such a fire burn inside
That your eternity can be perceived

Modernity's Assassin

This is a virus that cannot be beaten back
Trapped inside by a quarantine, solitude
We watch as it grows, increasing in power
Humans are absolutely powerless to attack
Paranoia is leading us, this is but a prelude
As we shelter from the storm of the hour
Our world collapses, torn apart into shreds
This planet will soon be emptied of life
As the virus transforms and mutates again
There will be no one left to count the dead
We are the remnants of our modern strife
Hope is far from appearing on the horizon
We can only hope better for our children

“...partly immune people came into contact 
with others who had had no previous exposure to the 
germs, epidemics resulted in which up to 99 percent 
of the previously unexposed population was killed.” 

Jared Diamond

Banner of Jerusalem, Raised over Zion

Strike the banner Zion is in sight
We see our future, we found the place
We will lift our flag, whatever the cost
We will fight, we will win
Our great Lord, rescues us from sin
For his name, we fight
For his kingdom, we are his pilgrims
And for his way, we've become right
We raise the banner
For what it represents
We will defend
Our path forward
Unrelenting

CLONE

When cloning results in adults
Can they love without a spirit?
Are they now like machines?
DNA is used to make a construct, grown in factories
If bodies are grown in cultures, do they have no limits?
Do cloned human brains have a need to dream?
Currently flesh is fragile and can often die from use
If clones are mutilated these parts can be replaced
Clones are, in a manner of speaking, purpose built
They shall bear the sins of human guilt
What if a clone murders someone
But leaves DNA evidence behind
And 1000,000 other beings share that DNA?
More horrific questions loom
Why are clones any less human?
We've learned the lesson of slavery
So how is this different?
Having now created life by our hand
Did we become just like gods?
Have we begun the process of our own doom?
Ask a clone when you are able
'Do you like having no freedom?
Because you were born from a tube and petri dish
Or do you believe it is by far better
To be born from a womb?

As they play

Moments before
The water attracted a deer
Perfectly created, magnficent
But in a vale, there now
Hidden from human eyes
A faerie clan gathers, and delights
Nature nurtures their being there
Perfect, joyful, and beautiful
They are perfectly shy, not naive
Childlike, not childish
They play in the quiet
The absence of human noise
With great cheer
With their lyrical voice
Singing and shouting
But in sounds human ears cannot hear
Joyous, praising their creator
And all of creation
With hearts ever knowing
Never doubting
Perfect in spirit
Perfected in form

Longing for Her Presence

My soul still longs for her presence
To hear her voice, to know her being
But since she passed my life is absence
My flesh is cold, my skin turned gray
My being is tempted to feel regret
For all the things I should say
I cannot offer hope, or confess
My folly is sorrow, but that is not a crime
We have only one life and death will come
It is only a matter of time
I will not forget, nor choose my fate
Please don't ask me to decide

Waiting to Be Chosen

They are not in the everlast as of now
But they walk in the middle grounds
Where warriors fight their foes
Nearly every day
Some are called and others are chosen
The rest fade away
Only the cowards remain
As a stain upon the fields
Where men war again
And again and again
But memories of valor
In the moment before being slain
They will join in Odin's world
And enter the plans now woven
For by that
They become bane
Of the foe fighting upon the lands
Of Odin's clans
He will send his Valkyr spirits
To uphold his name
Choose his own
His body guard
Who will fight forever
In Valhalla
Preparing for the day
The Bridge will fall
And the giants will march
The holy ash tree burn down
Today is a time of learning
The cost of his existence
The choices of his hand
The notice he has drawn
When all hope is gone

Social Media, Vulgar Consideration

In a world with murder committed by, and, upon kids
Internet sex crimes, trafficking of children
Lurid social media offerings all leading to use of a neutral system
That leads to stalking, harvesting the weak, to chase the kind,
To hunt prey by predators, to the find the first born of humans
Our children have been sacrificed upon an altar of easy access
Computers the means of delivery  and the study and analysis
The computers churn out the behavior of the target
We need a different ideal one with the needs of protection
And care for the wounded, the highest of all concerns
How we get there might mean less adult access
And good adults won't be allowed to use all there is
But until you stop the worst, you have to limit the best
And no one can predict now where the situation will rest

Gears of a Nation

His vehicle in black, a message sent
As this nation's great leader arrives
His rows of dignitaries preceding
Watching the parade of elephants
The people in awe at the presence
Still, no leader of a land is divine
Societal beneficiaries are feeding
Then the charade of sycophants
Messages grind without relent
To function a nation has gears
It is a machine, prepared, primed
As an artifice, a construct working
It is made to endure, never fear
It cannot be weakened by time
Nothing made by man is eternal
It is nonetheless ready to fall
As disaster hides, waiting, lurking
The way of all nations is to end

Beowulf, Warrior Prince

To understand Beowulf one must understand the past
That the night was populated by demons and forces
Humans tried to hide at night in their safe places
Fear alive in their minds, for the coming evening
Demons and gods real, even as Christianity advanced
The beasts occupied a land filled with death orchards
A world so different from the present
Where fear comes from other humans
When Beowulf was called to help others
It wasn't the imagination of a poet's dreaming
He came to fight a true, evident foe
The child and mother of the fallen Cain
A warrior of honor would have to expend his life
To the remove the original source of human shame
God's plan had been destroyed by ignorance, envy
And by shedding blood of the beast
By refusing to save his flesh, he removed the stain
Beowulf was now to end the cycle, to retaliate
No more false gods, no more beasts of the flesh
To kill them meant humanity was now free
To worship the original, to accept the word
Of the one God, of the path of forgiveness
To go forward from this place in victory
Read Beowulf from the distance of the present
Mock the belief in creatures of the night
And never wonder upon the creation
Of a prince who'd fight and die for others

Standing Alone

Robin's men, a merry band, prowled the wood
It'd become his sole domain, there he reigned
His original land stolen, his noble title taken
For Robin served King Richard, serving well
With good service to his king in the Crusades
Sherwood forest was dense, ripe for banditry
Even to take a path for the sake of time
The depths confused, it wasn't a good choice
If the path was taken there by a military force
It was forsaken, the decision was foolish 
Robin's men ambushed every opponent
In the moment of perfect aim
The arrows fell from archers
In the tree tops, from tree stands
From hidden knolls covered in trees
Across fields, between bushes
All of the angles became fields of fire
Robin's army existed in the murk
Spirits in the depths of darkness
The false King could not find them
And it could be seen in the result
All decided by the density of cover
By the bravery and daring of the men
And the fear instilled in the foe
By Robin's men
Who were the true King's guard

Beautiful Lies

When the Norse came
There were no defenders
The bravest men fled
The bravest woman slain
But she lived in the periphery
An enigma of the greatest sort
Filled with a powerful mind unknown
A person of honor, beauty, and worth
As her home and land burned
Dropping a veil of ashes as if snow
The white and soot fell around her
Close, attendant like a wedding train
In a state of shock, innocent and naive
Her beauty was thought by the others
To be very great, the highest form
Instead of honor though
She was repulsed
Feeling beauty is a gift
But the mind something more
No one knows why it is so
But beauty is valued more than the brain
And as attention gathers and covers
It smothers your ability to be warned
People steal, demand, coerce and take
All you have, or own, or would want
Leaving you with nothing
Except the feelings that haunt
After such a fire
All that's left is burnt land
Hidden beneath a veil of ash
What you wouldn't give, they'd take
They'll destroy your home, kill you
Telling you how beautiful you are
They'll tell you they love you
Tell you how important you are
And leave you nothing but scars
Abandoned by all to suffer
Despite worth that burns to the core

"On some preference esteem is based;
To esteem everything is to esteem nothing."

Moliere

Regret Nothing

The good is for now
But are illusory
Passing swiftly
The bad experiences
Mark us forever
Forcing us to search
To find a purpose within
To learn from it
As a seed to bloom
To grow
To discover my hubris
I need and want to know
Want to live yearning
To aspire higher, to ascend
And for my wounds, heal
For my mistakes mend
My choices I'll never regret
For they lead me upon a path
To finding truth, and hope
Rotten foundations
Left burning