Reflection: In America

 This poem was published in 2013.

In America

morality in the hands of the majority,

for sale to the highest bidder,

confusion reigns for the masses,

right and wrong,

like a cafe menu, changes daily,

absolutes, ignored or rejected,

while extremists push the edges of reality to the obscene and ridiculous,

society collapses upon itself,

and Rome revisited one last time.

Reflection: Atonement in Blue

 this poem was published in 2015 at Dead Snakes.

Atonement in Blue

the revolution begun,

unconcerned the masses.

sludging through the day to day,

laws not enforced,

cops killed,

or arrested,

cheering mobs taste blood,

and yearn for more.

God not dead,

only uninterested in the fate of hypocrites,

and pagans,

making martyrs of the police,

soon cities will burn,

flames spreading across the nation,

the revolution begun,

there is no turning back,

God help us all.

Reflection: America

 This poem was written in 2016 and reflects the decay of American Culture.

America

men in suits,

and ties,

tribal warriors,

battling for turf,

believed their own,

naive ignorant bastards,

boundaries shift,

and borders in dispute,

fears flame,

culture assigned,

along with taxes.

Reflection: The Call

 Being a Christian is really quite simple. This poem was published in 2016.

The Call

religion about discipline,

body and soul,

compassionate relativism,

only a cancer that continues to grow,

disciplined and decisive,

is what a true christian must be,

very little gray actually exists,

the call to follow Jesus Christ,

quite basic,

pretty much,

black and white,

and discipline the key.

Reflection: The Night Heavens

 One of the big reasons I love living on the plains of mid-America away from the cities, is the night time sky. Especially in the summer time. Favorite summer tradition of mine. Watching the fire flies until it gets really dark and then gazing at the night time skies.

prairie skies,

vast and monotonous during the daylight hours,

at night,

intimidating,

stars beyond numbers,

unseen,

under city lights,

acknowledge our insignificance,

make us question our existence,

questions asked,

by lovely pioneers,

adrift in the night.