Day of the Devil's Horsemen

Among our own people we were the first
Highest in prestige and knowledge
Accomplishments and fame
But we were to become the last
Our destiny was to be decided
By their control of fate
They were called by many names
It didn't matter
These were the Mongols
This was their horde
We were their next victims 
Oh, we knew the shame
We knew their plans
For they made no secret of their goal
We knew their way of war
And what they were going to do
But however well prepared we became
In short hours since their arrival
Our number waned
We were falling, and failing
Our people were to become slaves
Fields filled with our dead flesh
We were aware that they'd come
They'd been foretold
Their past victories and legacies known
They arrived it upon the heels of victory
The burning black upon the horizon
It was now our turn to enter oblivion
They'd slaughtered every city
Every town and fortress upon their path
The day of the Devil's Horsemen was upon us
And we could only pray for evening
A certain kind of waking nightmare begun
They hunted us, on horseback
Their way of war was wrath
They made use of speed, and attack from distance
They kept moving, and in fluid acts, circled us
Firing arrows on the fly
They pierced our finest armor with ease
Fear's sister panic arrived with the attack
Time after time they circled, and tightened this noose
Riding and then firing bolts of death from their bows
We were barely able to breathe
For the fear of the inevitable result was deep
Soon the madness of fear and lack of resolve
Let our rational minds loose
That I survived is an anamoly,  but one of a dozen
Whereas the men lost numbered in the high thousands
The eaters of the dead began howling
And we fled on foot
As the looting commenced
The Devil's Horsemen were not cruel
They were deadly efficient
And their day was long

Time Master

How treacherous is time
Be it a clock
With the hands ticking, seconds pass
Or an hourglass
Sand falling through the glass
One by one, but after a while
That continuous movement
Becomes a deluge
From first to the last
None more important than the rest
Time is a game of chess
Nuance and subtle movement
Or direct attack
All the same yet different
Fight or defend
It is all the same
Every piece, greater towards the less
With every second meaning something different
But everyone's second
Lasts the same length
There are the same number
Of seconds in a minute
Or minutes in an hour
No second, minute or hour greater
Than the other
Time has the ultimate power
To wear down the permanent
To decay the temporary
To destroy the legacies
And obscure the history
Born into a life
We have no choice
We must live and die
Losing every moment
And every memory
Time ends
But what happens next
Isn't clear to me

An Evil Presence Revealed

The Arctic Exploration project
Was paid for ahead of time
Not with any prospect for riches
We came via sail power in an era of steam
Coming from long and far away
We'd had to utilize the least expensive form
Of travel
Our party came from diverse career worlds
Academia, Military, and Adventurers
All were deserving respect
None were seasoned in their field
But for me and my first mate
But no one knew what to expect
Only that we could not know
What we could not know
That we did not know
And lastly, what we feared might exist
It was a nexus of events and strange phenomena
At the bottom of the world
Massive Whirlpools swallowed ships
As well as tidal swirls
Left behind by the impact
Something from space struck the earth
There was an evil there, it is said
Presenting upon us all a wicked curse
Maps suggested the location of an impact
Some believed the cause was a meteor
It was dense, and likely metal
It was made of gold or some esoteric medium

Instead
As we found out
It was a pulsing evil being
After the event of discovery
We know that it wished only to be fed
It hungered for our flesh
Desiring to see us dead
This site of catastrophe
A blemish upon the face of this land
White, frozen, and cold
Was palpably wicked

What we discovered we wished to no longer believe
We felt ill and worse the closer we approached
Men reported being sea sick, when the ship was static
And we floated upon a stilled sea
By the time we found the site
3/4 of the team were barely mobile
The smell in the air was of putrification
And decay
Vomit coated the frozen surface of the main floor
Still, we sent away our boats
Each with an armed man, a scientist, and an expedition officer
We sent out five ships, leaving three behind
And we'd planned to send eight ships with 5 men each
We prepared to find what we'd come for
A meteor of great size



The effort was handicapped at the start
Leaving only death, and scars
We could see a pulsing purple and green hue
Beneath the surface at the site
We made certain to note all of the aspects of the discovery
But before we could gather again and compare notes
A being of colossal size burst through the ice
Upturning three of the boats
Immediately we lost there 5 or 6 men
We began firing upon the exposed body
But the great tentacles rose up
Undeterred by the gun fire
And when the small cannon from the ship fired
It did not harm the tentacle flesh
Something so large  had to come from the stars, there was no question in our minds
The giant tentacles looked like the skin or surface flesh of whales,
Possessing suction cups and moved independently of the others
By the time we regrouped we learned
Only five men remained of the boats sent forth
And as we raised anchor and attempted to flee
The tentacles, bored with the bodies of the dead men
Reached forth and removed 10 more men from the surface of the ship
We barely escaped, and now, with but a bare dozen men
We lay exhausted, cold, and wounded
As the winds took us from that place
And our dreams were infected
By the being that slept in the sea

Beauty

Some find beauty in the created
Some find it in the creator
Some find love to be amusing
And some find it amusing to view lovers
But beauty is exquisite
And it raises the question
What makes beauty beautiful
Who are we
What are we
Why is beauty immutable?

Luxury

Living in the lap of luxury
Never would you believe
My levels of misery
Offers of lust fulfilled
Offers to stroke my ego
My childhood's dreams killed
Salty tears don't satisfy thirst
Ask yourself one question why
I believe I am a curse
Give yourself a pat upon the back
My life is great, no remorse
So give me what I truly lack
Take my love
Take my  flesh
Take my dreams
And then attack
Give me what I want
A life so perfect
You can't haunt

Black Helicopters

It is a question to be answered
They are societal cancers
They will burn like gasoline
Burning fuel of dried leaves
The police and security forces
Killed the parents, leaving orphans
Society dies in the absence of truth
Their use of violence is proof

To Hunt

She hunts the prey
Who exist for her pleasure
She could kill them with extreme prejudice
But it is the process she treasures
First by tracks
Then by scent
She takes intense measures
So that she can enjoy the act

Strike

An orchard of bodies, hanging from trees
The enemy understood well the scene
Could unhinge their enemies
Evil will receive a special reward
Not karma, but justice
Reserved for cowards
The foe will be taken to the pit
Released from bonds and chains
With a single strike life would end
None know until arrival the destructiveness

There

Her parents asked her
Why are you so sad
She said I don't know anyone
They said to go out more
Meet people, find your life out there
So she did, she did all they asked
But it proved too much of a task
She spent her days working
Even her nights working late
But she spent her nights waiting
For life to find her
She had a gentle nature
Her humor kind
Her beauty would resonate
If only she had someone to notice
More than her presence
More than her existence
More than just being
There

She wanted to go out

He had worked all week
Just wanted to have a dinner and sleep
But she was tired from her work too
And wanted to go someplace together
She thought of it as proof
That they were a couple
The time spent was real
She wanted to feel that it was ongoing
There was hope
No doubts
He shrugged his shoulders
Said ok let's go
He bought steak
A couple drinks
And pie
She barely ordered anything
She'd stare in his eyes
Listened as he talked about his week
He ate his food quietly
Wondering if she wasn't hungry
Why she wanted to go out

Returning From the Hunt

It was one of those kind of winters
Where human, dogs, and birds barely functioned
For the cold ripped through the body
The snow piled high
Spring never arrived until Summer
And the time that passed
Left all sorts of destruction
And promised to return again
And yet
There is a quality that occurs
Following such a long season
One that tells the soul
We made it through
And we still remain

Gas

He had been there since morning
It was by now early evening
He wanted to see so he had checked
How many gallons had been pumped today
The station was on the way
From one city to the next
His prices were good
And when driving on the isolated road
No one knew when they'd be able to get gas
They'd stop for fuel, perhaps some cigarettes
He didn't have a diner counter
He couldn't cook
His wife had left
Long ago

Working Late

Her husband and his wife
Didn't like the idea of working late
But it didn't matter to the business
It had books needing to be finished
Policies to be written fully
And contacts to be made
But the family man was distracted
His will had to be enacted
Or he'd have said things he'd regret
And his secretary would have said yes
If only he'd asked
But he outlasted his urges
By concentrating on work
He had a difficult task
But he lived his faith
And every day practiced
All of the lessons he was taught

Dialogue over Chop Suey

They knew that the food here was ok
Not spectacular but it was cheap
It filled you nicely, and they were given lots to eat
They wanted to relax but were hungry
So Chop Suey sounded good
The conversation centered around events
Not much at all about ideas
And the people they knew mutually
Weren't as interested
As the foot traffic near them
Nor the discussions they could hear
They lived lives that were busy
If not always interesting
And the food was enough
For now
Just like life

They'd had enough

They'd been in the field a while
But their cause was lost
The war for them was over
The Union's troops were victorious
And so many Confederates paid a cost
They lost brothers and land
Property and their independence
They'd given everything for so long
That they had lost their will
Even if there were still a warrior's guile
So close to the end, they were no longer hostile
So the rebel troops found a Union picket
And fully surrendered
Without demanding terms or promises
They were taken through the lines
To learn their disposition
Would they be arrested or shot
Would they be held for trial
It didn't matter
The war was over
However it was carried out
Peace had to happen
Civility had to be wrought
Today or tomorrow
Here or so far away, so many miles
It was over
And they were finished
However well they had fought

Looking up existence

Climbing without rope
I reached the highest point
There upon the alpine peak
The clouds and fog covered rock
I was able to feel long forsaken hope
White clouds made the view surreal
Through the unique experience 
Nature provided perfect music
The sound of winds whip along
It was devastatingly cold
The soft beauty
Matched with rock and chasms
The world before me is mysterious
Offers life victorious

An Afternoon Sun

However we hope to find glory
Whatever we consider to be paradise
Should we even believe in ever
By resurrection or ascension
The world still offers excellence
This existence is a dance
Compounded by circumstance
Nature is deadly, and still perfect
We humans are flawed but
We seek redemption
By our greater designs
By our highest climb

The Frozen Thames

The ice was thick, but
There were passages of open water
The Thames was polluted and cold
But it was thick and covered in ice
While the freeze seemed complete
The last ice fair was 50 years before
It was windy, snowy, quite bitter
Industry in London polluted the sky
Making sunshine in Winter
A sort of Godsend
The warmth welcome
And Spring invited
Soon
Oh God come soon

Midnight coffee

He drove a truck across country
She had a job in Cleveland
When he made it back home
He was hungry, she was tired
He wanted to talk
So they went to diner
And drank coffee til morning
The coffee was black and strong
The caffeine led them soaring
Chatting until daybreak
Because they didn't know how long
Before they'd get to talk again

They Move, They Dance, In Unison

They are dressed for battle
But they move in ways
That are not violent
They are fluid, no need to grapple
They flood the grounds with grace
Soft in movement
But loud in demonstration
The crowd watches in awe

Skull and Knowledge

What is existence
Is it gathered and collected
Or is it meant to be rare
Do people sleepwalk through life
Or is life a living dream
Are our values constantly reflected
Or do we have to project our beings
If intelligence is so very important
Why is it so poorly protected
In a skull breakable
And fragile?

Fire and Steel

We seek to mold the earth's riches
Into machines that serve our needs
It is forced to conform to our wishes
With fire and iron we create steel

When the Angel of Death Was Called to Act

We watched without ability to stop them
So now we linger in our misery
None of us, not one could foresee
The slave race of the Hebrews
We were told to listen
Demanding there rights to be free
They warned us of the Angel of Death
And their God Jehovah's power
We'd lose our most important legacies
Warned us that we'd lose our first born
We'd lose our people's youth flower
For we were foolish, we were arrogant
We thought who could act but Pharaoh
But the Angel of Death acted
He would go where we hid
He would act in manifest haste
All the armies, walls and towers
Could not stop their God
We lost our heart in but an hour
When they unleashed their fate

“For the Angel of Death spread his wings on the blast,
And breathed in the face of the foe as he passed;
And the eyes of the sleepers waxed deadly and chill,
And their hearts but once heaved, and for ever grew still!”   Lord Byron

The Dragons Wait

They hover there
Even above the clouds
The dragons wait to strike
Waiting til the moment's ready
Preparing for the final fight
Ready to answer the call
For when forces collide
Neither evil nor good
Exist to express the nation's might
When the call is sent to them
Whether in day or night
They will be there
And send the enemy to flight

With Wings

They were wild men
And used as shock troops
Any battle with their involvement
Meant there was a chance of a fight
Between heavy infantry and artillery
And cavalry wearing wings
To symbolize their flight
More than once they were the difference
Between slow destruction
And victory

Imperfect Angels?

Humans are made to believe that somehow angels
Who have been made by the creator to serve him
Would ever be, however we perceive, imperfect
They are perfectly created, made for a purpose
They rise if needed, battle if desired
All answer to the whims of his hand
Should they be less than human
They'd be a lie to their design

“Beauty is given to dolls, majesty to haughty vixens, but mind, feeling, passion and the crowning grace of fortitude are the attributes of an angel.”  Charlotte Brontë

From Vision to Action

She saw herself as unimportant, a simple girl in an age of men

She had a vision that changed her view of her worht

She was to be much more than a maiden or a simple girl 

In a war for survival she was told she would lead a national revival

She believed when she had every reason to not to do so

She became the Maiden

A symbol around which men would fight

She inspired them to greatness and the invader was repulsed

Causing the invader to take flight

“She(Joan of Arc) put her dreams and her sentiment into her aims, where they ought to be; she put her practicality into her practice. In modern Imperial wars, the case is reversed. Our dreams, our aims are always, we insist, quite practical. It is our practice that is dreamy.”   G.K. Chesterton

Because I Love Her

She is my hope, my joy on this earth
I am her sorrow, I am her curse
She chose to accept a place lower than low
By accepting my offer, however flawed I am
Her future path changed
Because I love her I try to be more
I try to become better than I might otherwise
She is my desire, my inner fire
She is my flame
I have tried to be more than life offered
And I am unable to know
What the rules of love might be
So I try to be more than my instincts
I wish to make her life better
Because she made it so for me

“Love looks not with the eyes, but with the mind,
And therefore is winged Cupid painted blind.”   William Shakespeare

Offering Utopia

What do we do to deserve a better world
Does Utopia exist?
Or are humans too flawed to ascend
Are we damned to mediocrity
Are we broken unable to mend
Do we deserve happiness
Or do we deserve to mourn
Every time the globe turns
The orbit decays a small amount
With every spin more people die
With each rotation babies are born
What can we do to make the world better
Or are we condemned to Hell
Or condemned to live upon a planet scorned
By our hands
I seek hope but reality might demand our end
And still I have hope
Perhaps this existence is a final door
To a world we cannot yet imagine

“A map of the world that does not include Utopia is not worth even glancing at, for it leaves out the one country at which Humanity is always landing. And when Humanity lands there, it looks out, and, seeing a better country, sets sail. Progress is the realisation of Utopias.”   Oscar Wilde

Fly Icarus Fly

Flight to freedom
Hubris of youth
Hope for greatness
Your abundant will
Youth sees no reason
Vanity ignores truth
The hope to be famous
Leads to being unfulfilled
Icarus oh Icarus
Your path was certain
Follow your father
Know your future
But the sun is burning
Know you cannot survive
Striking the earth
And remaining alive

"Never regret thy fall,
O Icarus of the fearless flight
For the greatest tragedy of them all 
Is never to feel the burning light."  Oscar Wilde

From dead flesh is life born

In his eyes for man to become god

Fire and lightning must be controlled

With the spark of life ready to animate

From the creator steal the power

With such cross into the creator's domain

Imagine the hubris, imagine the desire

To steal from the creator his exceptional act

Men who have considered this question
Decided that to create life anew, it is by his hands

So to act as a God is not to become a God

To instill it with life, with a mind, with a heart

These are the true creative acts

For otherwise animation can be robotic

Intelligence may well be computer built

To reason is to know power but to love is to know truth

To be is a circumstance as is the desire to be a creator

It is proof enough that whatever man does

It cannot exceed the highest task

To give life with free will

And with love and purpose fulfill

“A human being in perfection ought always to preserve a calm and peaceful mind and never to allow passion or a transitory desire to disturb his tranquility. I do not think that the pursuit of knowledge is an exception to this rule. If the study to which you apply yourself has a tendency to weaken your affections and to destroy your taste for those simple pleasures in which no alloy can possibly mix, then that study is certainly unlawful, that is to say, not befitting the human mind. If this rule were always observed; if no man allowed any pursuit whatsoever to interfere with the tranquillity of his domestic affections, Greece had not been enslaved, Caesar would have spared his country, America would have been discovered more gradually, and the empires of Mexico and Peru had not been destroyed.”  Mary Wollstonecraft Shelley