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“What touch will your young remember?”©

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Tight is the night

to outlast the blight

of the stretching of mind

toward the noose in our sight,

it is that which will plead…

the emotions to bleed

for the reason to season the

young of this treasonous need,

forced and so subjected

to a will twisted, dejected,

where the feelings have wrecked

the bliss of innocence detected,

how much vile…

is then cause for denial

to course through your veins

and linger life long while…

stored and packed to the neck,

will it not burst and then wreck

the lives of all touched to

destroy the very dirt by its trek?

Such it is to face guile,

though it may come with a smile,

the cost to your life… long

the road leads to puke up such bile,

and there is no calm…

light breeze under palm

trees swaying to welcome you…

no, no hands on masseur with balm

to massage out the kinks left,

the rotting feeling by cleft

or the guilt of knowing it

happened to leave you bereft…

where in your heart is a hole,

a space dark and black as coal,

to what drugs never fill or

the desire to consume you up whole,

to chase the demon who did it…

to urge of killing that won’t quit,

it is that welling up from within

that you’ll face… tastes like sh*t,

it will overwhelm you of course…

leaving little to simple discourse,

nothing is simple- all too draining

by residuals left by the source,

screaming out a life long…

to think one doesn’t belong

among the breathing and living,

forgiveness will liberate… to make one strong.

How many more of our youth will we sacrifice to: pluralism [the “it’s all good mentality”], to declarations of accepting everything God hates [where our own hate is vented toward God and those saying they believe in Him- persecution] and then to call it tolerance [this is the current and growing world viewpoint,’Moral Relativism’]? If it is all good then liver and peanut butter milkshakes would be yummy! If hate was not seen as being used on those that believe in Jesus Christ [throughout the world] we would not know the times we are in! If the definitions to what we know had not been changed [political correctness] we could remain susceptible to the error of our ways… unless you are from back when this was not what was meant or intended by virtue of the very words themselves.

This reminds me of one of my favorite Abraham Lincoln quotes [found here], and please understand this writing is in the objective [not subjective] view… the distance between occurrence and today has taken a lifetime to understand. Of the four levels to any trauma [and I would add one more… confusion] or steps to go through are: shock, denial, anger and acceptance. This is what our children face with the onslaught of ‘gender confusion.’ If this sounds great to you… let it be.

“Two for Veteran’s Day, 2013″©

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“Standing at the tomb of the Unknown soldier”©

I stand here to honor you,

and yet they say you are unknown

but I knew you well,

you’ve never been unfamiliar,

you were the American that

would stop to help a stranger,

the hand to feed the hungry,

the one to offer aid to the widow,

sharing your time with an orphan

and visiting the sick or the dying.

I stand now because of you…

that you should care for me,

I am the unknown…

the one you never saw

but knew I’d be here…

thanking you all the same,

and I can only give you the

respect I can offer by:

caring for my country,

not trying to be better than

the next but showing the next

to be better than I am,

sharing the reason you died

was to ensure I would live…

and live freely and

for us all to know without

the party across the aisle

there is only a one party system…

no different than China.

(Written on Veterans day, Nov. 11th, 2010)

“When the door opens the bag is on fire”©

From within the vacuum… the empty,

the nothing, where nothing else exists

but the yawning wait and the torturing

hell of destruction that descends on all

those tasting war… the suck, the space

and time between the implosion and the

explosion lasting seconds to years… as it

is all subjective and relative at the

same time, the faceless enemy of the

mind at wait… to wander the wasteland

of moment, either moments before or

moments after… the where dragged to

here years later like a fresh kill

in the teeth of a war-dog wagging his

tail expecting a pat on the head from a

job well done… the one that wakes up
in cold sweats during the middle of the

night… in the middle of December from

the middle of the war, standing

amidst the ruin of another human’s

wasted society… where civilization took

a back seat to humanity and dropped a

bag on fire before ringing the door bell.

[ I saw the movie “Jarhead” for the first time the other night… and this

is attributable to the sentiment and reaction to the movie, the war and

the whole damn thing. ]