Friday, December 29, 2017

Turn the ship around in 2018.

In the journey of almost every individual, some often fall short of their goals, but we can never say that they haven't reached their dreams. My friends, the dream is a vision of how one perceives the world, in real time. In the process of this vision, a lot of people are stuck in their own reality and may not comprehend what it is that he or she sees in the vision. If seeing is believing, then the belief that a vision can work must fall in the hands of the optimistic at heart. Those who can deal with their choices and not stray away. A man may never win a race until he is 80 years old, but the story is in his will to never give up. Some may not understand how one can defy the laws of gravity and learn how to fly. Some may not understand how one can tightrope across skyscrapers or hold their breath underwater. What is a child who does not like to explore? What is a person who does not like to learn? One person, like everyone else, goes to sleep at night and wakes up—determined to learn how to drive a ship with complex controls. While we watch as others abandon ship when he or she takes the controls, it is the character of that one person that makes him or her special. On his or her quest, he or she may have to decide to turn the ship around and save those who chose to jump overboard. The character to save those who did not believe that he or she could drive the ship is what defies the laws of gravity; walks across skyscrapers; and survives underwater. In the end: win, lose or draw; the inspiration is in the will to drive the ship and learn enough to turn around to save the others.
In this whole process, the will to drive the ship is all that matters, soon after, when others start to comprehend, the trail eventually will lead others to understand the vision in the dream.
It's in your hands now captain. 
Good luck in 2018.

Thursday, December 14, 2017

Who made it to the Dinner Table this Year

Well, it's that time of year again, but there's a slight problem, there's only three of us left in the family. The holidays can be bitter when you're broke and barely hanging on to the family tree, if you know what I mean. I called Ms. Clark and she was still trying to put up a billboard. I called Ms. Moore and she was trying to get over an argument with a friend. I called Mr. Williams and he was watching old seventies reruns. My cousin Trina started using drugs. Grandpa and Uncle Johnny are dead. I haven't had a good intimate relationship for years now. Listening to the sounds of the season, I didn't feel quite up to it but I kept listening. In all my years of living, I had never heard of or seen so many people missing at the dinner table. I turned on the news and saw a big difference than years ago. It almost seemed like we had sold ourselves to what we tried to run from years ago. There was science, religion, bargains and people of different ethnic groups but no holiday spirit, and all of the saints looked tired. I looked outside and the snow was white but no one looked like they cared anymore and I didn't see little children making angels in the snow. It's like the magic was slowly slipping away and everyone was fighting for nothing. Hmmmm, I wonder what happened? I guess after all of the arguing about how to make a day holy, everyone forgot about each other and started arguing about everything else then wore themselves out in the process. In all of the darkness, I just sat down at the table and played Christmas songs that we used to listen to when everyone in the family had been in their right mind. I put pictures of how it used to be on the table and ate with everyone and laughed. I used my imagination. We all have to leave this earth someday but I'm going to make the best out of the hand that I was dealt. When I sat down at the table to eat, I noticed lights from outside blending in with the tree. I guess all it takes is one believer.
However you celebrate, I ask one thing this year: I ask that you never forget the young child in the family that has to pass the torch, he or she is watching how you celebrate. Why not leave them with something to remember, come together;-)
Happy Holidays, Merry Christmas and Happy New Year.  There's enough joy for everyone in each category.

Sunday, December 10, 2017

The Special Piece: Rebuke Holiday Demons

This piece was written as a caution; a wisdom gift, so that you'll have a great, fun-filled holiday with family and loved ones. It was not written out of religious conviction, but was only written as a statement that there are forces in this world that cannot be explained. It's human nature to try to find meaning to unusual acts that are out of character and don't make sense. That is why this piece was written; so that you may be aware and so that you will be thankful for a time set aside to be with those you love. Even reality, sometimes, can be unbelievable.  In that statement, I declare that as a child I could only find one word to explain what I found to be uncommon.

I present to you, my special piece:
Rebuke Holiday Demons

Brethren, I want to warn you of something easily forgotten.
There is a force that pushes and pulls.
When fundamentals slowly slip away, things can get sloppy.
Study in your spare time and in your dreams you will find the answers.
Practice your profession daily and do not be caught off guard.
When you're out of work, find something to stay busy, so you will be prepared for your next assignment. 
When your past catches up to you, humbly tell the truth and bow-out, for there is too much at stake.
Be aware that animals crave food just like humans.
We are nothing more, we all need to eat.
When one craves more food, speak of discipline and food for thought.
Knowledge usually endures. 
When a fellow brother desires to be content, do not push your work on him.
He may need time to heal his heart.
It is a struggle to maintain self-control, that is enough proof that demons exist.
If the word "demon" is too strong for you, then ask those that have been behind bars what happened at the scene of the crime.
They will gladly confess their struggle. 
If I'm wrong, then the left and right brain are equal.
Brethren, I swear to you that sleep is good when you're working hard in your craft.
I too have fallen prey to snakes in the field.
The power of rebuking demons can quickly ware you down.
It's like being burned and trying to heal.
Even a preacher can be caught in the act, but be like iron, because his act can still teach you a lesson.
Be gentle to those that practice religion, for they are just trying to find a way.
They too can fall prey.
You must humble yourselves after the fight and if you make it out, fall to your knees and thank the designer of man for another day.
Demons come in all forms.
If your wife or husband pulls you in, trust your own instincts.
Do your best to not let your children be drawn into the madness, if you have any.
If they get caught in the web, you will soon learn that it's amazing how even children know the difference between right and wrong.
In the midst of the storm, they'll appreciate your time.   
Someone whom you may trust can also be easily attacked, be strong brethren, and if they try to fight or provoke you to anger then walk away.
For they will push you into the fire and have no clue what happened the next day.
If you feel persuaded to indulge in their activity when set-up, flee fast and don't look back.
Your family and loved ones are more important.
If they attack them, find a holy place.
People who practice happiness and holiness will understand your pain.
Brethren, even professionals are highly susceptible to forget where they come from.
They may lead you to believe that you're crazy.
Study and stay alert, common sense can even be found in stupidity and medicine is mainly given to those that have been hurt. 
Negative energy craves a place in the shining seat and death can creep up on us all.
Peace is the way, we are all in our own mind and may not know what others are going through. 
Be strong brethren, for I have fallen victim too.
Just remember that the word: "Holiday," is no different from "Holy Day."
Envy, confusion, and strife, are the leading signs that demons are present.
But like a math problem, you must learn how to figure it out.
A teacher can only guide you, but it's up to you to learn the answers.
Bring joy, love, and hope to your family, and if in doubt, go to a small space and listen to the small voice telling you what is the right thing to do.
Remember there is nothing wrong with desiring to be pure.
It may be the only way to help you rebuke that which is not.
Have a blessed holiday and I hope the magic of the season follows you into the new year. 

Friday, December 8, 2017

The Book of Nova

King Herod was his name. Like many kings who ruled before him, he wanted to maintain his power. In this aspiration, he ordered his men to kill the first born male child of every woman in his kingdom, for he had been warned of one who would be a threat to his reign. Evidently becoming a tyrant, his plan would fail when he was blinded by a nova. (A nova is a star that shines real bright for a moment and then it goes back to it's normal state of shining light.) Falling on the ground with no sight, his soldiers returned to see him on his knees.  Josephus, King Herod's best soldier, rushed to his aid.
"Sir, with the fog and the light, we could not see. We went underground. It may be too late, we've failed you, your majesty," Josephus said as King Herod waved his hands in disgust, as his bare knees scraped the floor. "Sir, are you okay?" Josephus asked.
"Josephus, I've somehow lost my sight. How can a king rule with no sight?" King Herod replied, crawling on the floor, touching things for direction.
Josephus could not believe what he was seeing. Helping the king to his bed, he then left the king to rest and went out to find the child that King Herod had been afraid of. Falling off of his camel, while in route, he was knocked unconscious and dreamed of a lion approaching him. When the lion proceeded to attack him, he woke up and found himself in prison.
"What have I done?" He screamed, while being pulled back in place by the force of the chains that bound him to the wall.
A man turned to him, "They say the king has ordered your execution for trying to kill him," the man explained.
"That is foolishness, I would never do such a thing," Josephus replied.
The next morning, on his way to be executed, he noticed King Herod with bandages around his eyes.
"Your highness, what have I done? Have mercy on me please. Spare my life, for I've been falsely accused. I've served you well. Sir, have I ever committed blasphemy? Have I ever dishonored Judah? Your majesty, what have I done?" Josephus screamed, begging for his life to be spared.
In the midst of the commotion, a child, no older than eleven emerged from the crowd.
"Great citizens of Judah, in honor of thy father, I request that my life be taken instead," the child said as he proceeded forward.
The men of Judah had been spellbound, for a blind king would kill an innocent soldier, yet a child would give his life to save him. In this display of humiliation, in the presence of the blind king, the men began to talk among themselves.
"Is this the first born male child that you feared, King Herod? Is this the child that will lead Judah to the father?" Josephus asked as the crowd of spectators became silent.
Nathaniel, one of the well known prophets in the town stepped forward.
"What is your name, young man? You don't look familiar?" Nathaniel asked.
"My name is Nova. Sir. Nova Yahweh. Take my life instead of the soldier, Sir," Nova replied.
This pleased the men of Judah and they let Josephus plead his case after he was set free. Destined for greatness, the day of Nova was proclaimed throughout all of Judah and King Herod had been shamed and sent into exile. As the legend goes, the nova star still shines in the north sky. It shines for all of humanity, so that they will never forget the one brave child, born with the heart to save us all.
For it was written, that in the midst of men, one brave child, named: "Nova Yahweh" would emerge from a crowd of men to save an innocent soldier. That concludes the Book of Nova in the collection of Holiday stories.

Tuesday, December 5, 2017


Running through the woods, I had to hurry. The smell of burning wood had been infecting my lungs for too long. So long that I had become weak. Coughing up mucus, I couldn't help but notice the sound of a baby crying up ahead. Rushing to his aid, I guess his mother left him out in the cold. Realizing that he was abandoned, I began to feel a purpose in this entire situation. Something magical touched my heart. I may be the only hope that this child has left, so I took him in: win, lose, or draw. Contemplating in the moments of decision, I began to reflect on my own life. I'm a reject outcast and I've never shared anything with anyone but myself. Maybe I can learn something from this child. I never got to know my real father and I was raised by someone else. My mother has a good heart but she is far from perfect. I'm sure she has a passion to be holy and pure but her desire is what makes her special. Getting the child to a warm spot, I noticed a scar above his eye. I also noticed that when I picked him up, he stopped crying and it began to snow. Laying him in a cardboard box, laced with cotton, so he could sleep, I noticed a smile on his face. Being a pretty tough soul, I felt my heart skip a beat. Maybe someone from the heavens has sent me a friend. No longer an orphan child, I began to raise him and we became best friends. I watched him grow up and go to the prom with friends. He even graduated and married his high school sweetheart. At the moment I took him in, it was a gamble. He and I had nothing. This abandoned child taught me a lesson in life. He taught me how to sacrifice. Throughout his life, I never told him about being abandoned and left for dead, but I assured him that I would never leave his side. I kept my promise and he kept his by graduating and following in my footsteps. I'm 88 years old now and I just found out that he and his wife opened an orphanage and named it, "Nativity." How ironic, I was once lost in the woods but I may have stumbled across something priceless. If I had never gambled on caring for this child, millions of abandoned children would have no home. He cared for them as much as I cared for him. I have no doubt in my mind that there is something greater going on in the universe, at least at this moment of clarity. I may be an optimist, but it doesn't account for the warm feeling that I feel inside knowing that I chose to raise a child that was left for dead. At his first game, I was there. When he served in a combat zone, my wife and I sent him care packages. When my wife left me, he sent me a card in the mail and never questioned my authentication as his father and friend. Odd things happen in life, I guess that's a part of being human. Life isn't so bad after all, especially when nothing is made into something.

Sunday, December 3, 2017


I come to you today brethren, in my very own flesh.
I had two dreams last night.
A bad dream and a good dream.
In the bad dream, I was being hurt by my own people and when I looked up at the sun, I had been blinded by the light.
In the neglect, I felt pain so bad that my soul left my flesh and I was free to enter into the light.
Eyes hurting by so many false teachings that misled my mind on earth, I had been welcomed into the light to see the truth.
It was a good feeling. I wanted to stay.
The good part of the dream was that what I saw and felt was complete peace, nothing more, nothing less.
In my heart brethren, I knew that I had done nothing wrong on earth.
A feeling of peace pushed me to go back to my earthly dwellings and shine the same light on earth.
It was not my time brethren...
"It's okay, black bird, I feel fine, you can fly home now," I said to the black bird that showed me the way back home.
The black bird then flew away and I awoke from the dream.
Now content, I sat there and burned wood to stay warm, with hopes that some wise men would come to help me up.


Monday, November 27, 2017

Broken Parachute

A dare can increase the odds of bad choices.
I can accept the challenge or not.
Feeling the pressure, I decide to jump.
In the midst of falling, I realize that I’ve been given a broken parachute.
Comprehending the odds, I now have few choices at this moment.
In midair, my mind is racing through my few options.
In desperation, a voice tells me to pull the spare.
It works.
I survive another day.
The experience somehow humbles me.
When asked again, I think twice.
The broken parachute has not only made me afraid but it’s made me weigh the odds between life and death.
I’ve become disciplined to appreciate life.
After a heated argument with a close female friend, I decide to jump again.
I pull the first toggle, I have success with the first parachute.
When I land, my female friend forgives me.
You win some, you lose some, but when your odds are high, you have a better chance.
When your odds are slim, you take drastic measures to increase the odds.
With the second parachute, I increased my odds.
I guess on the second jump, my female friend imagined life without me and decided to forgive me.
Through it all, I learned one thing: “Shit happens.”
Pardon my old English, but I’m fortunate to be here.

Wednesday, November 22, 2017

Thanksgiving tales of the Turkey & the Hare

For the humans, it was thanksgiving, and as usual, there was war brewing between men, but no one knew about the battle taking place on the edge of a farm by the woods. Author, was his name, and he wanted to eliminate the human race from the face of the globe. This was odd because Author was a turkey. Witnessing the slaughter of billions of his relatives, he became bitter and vengeful against the humans.
"I've lost my wit," He told his dear friend Brad, the hare.
"I want to fight them, I want to crush all hope of their existence from the face of the earth. We must not let this slaughter go on," Author, the turkey, explained to Brad, the hare.
"You've lost your mind, we have no chance against the human. They're much to strong," Brad, the hare, replied.
"No, have you taken the time to watch them. They're sick, and I don't know why they were made. They make holidays with our families' faces on the cover of coloring books in baskets. They pluck the feathers from innocent birds, whom, have done them no harm. We must group together and kill them all," Author, the turkey, explained.
Being his usual self, Brad ran away to spy, while Author went to gather up his army to go to war against the humans. All dressed in battle gear, he lead his troops to attack; standing at the top of a hill in the woods, he noticed a huge mushroom cloud emerging from the other side of the woods. He also saw Brad, the hare, running at full speed in their direction, away from the cloud.
"They've killed themselves! Get underground, they've killed themselves! Seek shelter, we must hide underground until the dust settles," Brad, the hare, said rushing to save his family after giving Author the message.
"Oh, what a surprise. You all heard what the hare said, take shelter until the dust settles," Author shouted to the crowd of animals ready for war.
Most of the birds took to the sky, while all of the other animals found a good spot underground. Once they got word from Poncho, the dove, that everything had settled down, they all gathered together to celebrate the victory that they didn't even have to fight.
Author, the turkey, and Brad, the Hare, stood tall on a log.
"Dear friends, we've been blessed by the creator of everything; we didn't even have to fight, but by divine law, we've been given a great gift from the humans. Brethren, they've killed themselves and left us to care for the planet. Now we, as grateful animals, must be thankful and work together by never forgetting this day of gratitude, handed to us by the humans. I, in all of my wisdom as a turkey, believe, that they did this for us. They did this for us because they felt sorry for ages of neglect against our kind. They fought each other, but friends, on this day, we will fight for solidarity. We're now at the top of the food chain, brethren," Author explained to a huge crowd of animals.
After his words, trillions of animals cheered.
"Long live the animals, long live the animals," they shouted at the top of their lungs.
Smiling and basking in his freedom, Author, the turkey, shook hands with Brad, the hare, and they both lived a long life, in peace, with the rest of their animal friends, never to see a human again.
The End. 

Saturday, November 18, 2017

Tender Jones AKA the Underdog

"Johnny, good God, would you get me a fight!" Jones said in frustration.
"But Jones, you've lost every fight, no one wants to fight a loser," Louie explained as Johnny left the room in disgust after trying to convince Jones to retire.
"Damn it Louie, but I feel like a winner, now find somebody for me to punish! You hear? I feel like a winner. Get me a fight! I feel like punishing somebody, I'll fight anybody!," Jones replied with certainty.
Louie went out and set up a fight with him and Big Hands Collins. Big Hands was looking for an easy fight to get ready to defend his title. Assuming it would be a walk in the park, he even put his belt on the line. He tried to be as nice as possible but Tender Jones wasn't having it. He had all of a sudden felt like a winner one morning and he was ready to fight his own mother to get some reps if he had too.
"I'm going to bust your face until the print on my gloves are on your skull, do you hear me boy," Tender Jones said to Big Hands in their one-on-one interview. When Big Hands spit in Tender Jones face, it was on.The fight was set.
Feeling the heat of the fight, Tender Jones had took Big Hands into the unexpected twelfth round and a lot of people who bet against Jones, had been shaking in their boots and double checking their bank accounts. In the last five seconds of the fight, Tender Jones hit Big Hands with the hardest uppercut known to man. Big Hands was down and from the looks of it, he wasn't getting up. Tender Jones had just won the biggest upset of his little career and stunned the boxing world.
Terry the announcer, like everyone, was stunned, you could hear a pin drop, the arena was so silent, Terry then jumped into the ring to get a word from Jones,
"How do you feel about your upset, Jones?"
"I told the world I was ready to punish somebody and that's what I did. Everybody thought it was over but when you wake up feeling like a winner everyday, even with no wins, as long as there is a body on the ticket, somebody is going down. Now I want you to look at me. Take a look at the one they called the underdog. Look at my critics' faces. They look sick, look at them! Somebody call the doctor," Jones explained holding his new title.
"Tell us how you did it, Jones. Everybody in the sports world had you marked off the moment you stepped in the ring. You have never won a fight in your career. How did you manage to convince the champ to fight you? How did you pull this off?" Terry asked.
"It's not the size of the dog in the fight, Terry, it's the size of the fight in the dog. Sometimes you can get used to losing and it can be rough because no one want's to be around a loser. But when you wake up feeling like a champ you just need someone to fight and I thank the champ for taking me as a joke. This is what this sport is about. It's about being down and out but finding a way to make things happen and that's what I did. I shocked the world by beating a big ugly bear that counted me out," the new champ explained as he turned his back to the camera and walked out with all of Big Hands ringside girls.
After the talk, Terry, being 70 years old, felt like a winner himself so he faced the camera to send a message home to his wife, "Unbelievable, the world now has a new champ that is 1 and 50. Gina, I'm an old man but I'm coming  home and taking you out tonight. Let's make another baby, cuz I feel like a winner. By God, I feel like an underdog."
The End.

In Cashtown

In the midst of a cold somber night, the poor stood waiting for their free meal at the shelter. In Cashtown, the poor had ethics similar to the rich, except theirs' came with little strings attached. A poor man's art dwells in simplicity, because with little, one can achieve a lot. Standing in a group to stay warm was protocol for a group of nobodies with nothing left in Cashtown. The figure of the moon stood tall in the sky at night, while the smell of green peppers invaded the nostrils of those homeless by the pizza shop. When you're poor and hungry, anything taste good, and hunger can drive a person to do some hostile things for a meal.
Poor able citizens like: Jimmy, Peter, Jermaine and Greg, had all been hired to kill some powerful people, but ended up back in the system. Suzie, Barb, Alisha and Jada, found themselves linked-up in a human trafficking ring that involved mass prostitution. The need for someone to be sent to free these lost poor souls was evident, because human dignity had reached an all time low in Cashtown. Even in scripture the beloved Christ looked out for the poor, but these situations were different. When I say different, if you didn't have anything to offer in Cashtown, then you were left in an alley to rot and starve. Marvin, the caretaker of most of the poor, had to show the children of Cashtown how to slay and burn rats if they wanted to eat. If you want to see the full picture of how the town worked, then you have to understand the ways of each class of people in Cashtown. The rich used the people in the middle, and the poor got what was left over: dirt, pesticides, food infested with bacteria, and even human feces; the list of leftovers can go on-and-on. The fear of being left with nothing is what haunted those at the top in Cashtown. This fear was evident in the struggling citizens, who had been hanging on to their last meal. No one wants to be thrown to the wolves, but in Cashtown it was evident that the well of cash had run dry. Reports of police hearing gunshots in the middle of the night and the paramedic job that became just as tiresome, was the lasting legacy of a city destined for failure. This violence stemmed from the roots of sloth and the lack of wealth to establish better resources to aid those in need. A town named after something that had become so inflated with interest but was now scarce: "Cash."
Even a bum can look good with money, but education becomes evident when he or she is in higher demand. The language and dialect of a child creates the sound of those he or she idolized growing up, but that alone won't protect them from a bully searching for a punching bag. Why should you feel sorry for someone who has nothing? Why should you give such thought to a crippled child or a blind man? What are the details of a story in a city that once had tall buildings with homeless people running through the streets? What does this tell you about the state of human empathy when it comes to maintaining their own kind? Women selling their bodies to feed their children, whom, were raised with no love from anyone. One night of love left their mother to fend for herself. Skeletal remains of human bones lacking food to feed their flesh. Millions of crying babies in need of care. This is what drove the atheist to his state of thought. This is what drove humanitarian aid workers to their breaking point. Men having to reach deep into themselves to see what really fueled their souls.
Does it matter to invest in flying cars when no one has the cash to pay? Does it matter to pay for education when no one has the cash to buy the books? The evidence and details of what caused such an array of social behavior can be found at the starting point, reflecting on what drove such people to make such foul choices. The details are encoded in those choices, yet some people are left with no choice but to give-in to circumstance. In Cashtown, once the cash dried up, the real nature of it's citizens became evident. The science is clear and concise: "Cash," is what kept the ship afloat.  Many are afraid to go back to what's left of a town named after green paper filled with pestilence and disease. Many are afraid to comprehend the carnal nature of those once fueled by capitalism; capitalism, mixed in the tears of a naturally organized social breed of citizens. Fumes from rocket ships that led the people into their peak of knowledge are all that's leftover, emblazoned in a field of crosses of the brave citizens that once roamed the streets of Cashtown.
Cashtown is now fenced off with toxic fumes and nuclear waste surrounding it. "How did such people end up like this?," was the number-one question on the minds of those who went back to do research, never to be seen again. Their bodies now lie beside the burned bodies of victims in the oil fields of Cashtown. In Cashtown, life was only good when you had cash, everything else was feelings and emotions that you couldn't afford. In Cashtown, social behavior was a waste of time; time, that you would eventually pay for in the end, wishing you had back. If nothing more, Cashtown should remind you that nothing in life is free, and everything comes at a price. Beware when you enter the blocked-off city gates of Cashtown; it may cost you your life, and don't walk the streets alone.  Although the city is now abandoned and infested with animals filled with radiation and pesticides, the smell of cash is still in the air. Those who don't know will be innocent victims and be a reason for others not to enter.

Wednesday, November 15, 2017


Is that man suppose to be standing on the ledge of that tall building?
I wonder if he knows that if he falls the gravity will kill him...
Woman and man.
Chicken and egg.
Dolphin and water.
Boy and girl.
Hmmm...if one does not acknowledge the other, who will populate the earth?
The book just sits on the shelf; the writer is broke, for no one will read his thoughts.
I wonder how this will alter the course of time.
Are muscles made to get stronger?
Is air made to breathe?
I go to the medicine cabinet to take my medicine; I've lost my mind.
In the process I hear two men on the radio arguing about a player that missed the winning shot.
People cheer when the ball goes in the hole, but they get upset when the ball doesn't.
Mustard and ketchup,
Burger and bun.
That's normal, at least to the majority of people.
Realizing that I've lost my mind, I look out the window and notice that the man didn't jump.
He got everyone all revved up, while the fire department talked him down.
I have a choice.
His girlfriend is in my apartment, I finally get it.
Only I can fix this broken record.
I almost killed a man.
I stop the conversation and tell her to go home.
When she leaves, I decide to sleep on the floor.
How simple was that?
Pondering the look on her face, I hope I didn't let her down.
She must think I'm different.

Tuesday, November 14, 2017


He started off strong and made many friends on his way to the top.
He was very ambitious in the beginning and full of spunk.
After shattering every record, there seemed to be nothing left to accomplish so he got married and settled down.
He soon escaped from his bad marriage and moved away to clear his mind.
Feeling the woes of aging he sat on the edge of his bed, he then decided to lay down.
He decided to rest.
For there was nothing left to do.

Monday, November 13, 2017

Who will volunteer?

Down to the last dollar.
Down and out.
Smart, yet intellectually broke.
Never afraid to love but often left alone.
Left with little but in the heat of the battle I see one hand rise from the crowd.
I'll go, Sir, I'll go.

Saturday, November 11, 2017


               )   )--- /                         -----------------------
                     /                              -----------------------


Sunday, November 5, 2017

The Good News of Marlin Apple and the League of Writers

"Mr. Apple, you've been staring at that typewriter for days. What do you desire to write about?," Mrs. Jefferson asked.
"I want to write about a garden. I want to write about a place that makes sense," Marlin replied.
Mrs. Jefferson placed one of her apples on his desk that had been given to her by a student.
"Take your mind Marlin and put it in this apple. This apple was made by something. A force that your mind cannot comprehend. Take notice of this force and I want you to except it as it is. Do you see the apple's defense system. It has a protective layer and it hides the seeds in the core so it can keep growing for you to eat. Writing, Marlin, is a force that you must use to feed human thought so their minds can have something to hold onto in this life. The apple grows from a tree and when you partake from that tree you are given nutrients and energy. Once you learn how the tree grows you are given knowledge. This is a process, Marlin, that we all must use wisely. Do not be afraid," Mrs. Jefferson explained.
Marlin wakes up in front of his typewriter. He finds himself in the Kongo of Africa trapped in an old library in the middle of a war zone. All he can hear is typing and explosions from outside.
"Hello, does anyone know where I can get more paper from? I need more paper," He says, noticing a small arm and hand passing him paper over his shoulder.
All he hears in response is, "Shhhhhhhhhhh. Less talking, more typing. We must save the people with our thoughts," a voice says from behind a case of books.
Marlin then relates to his dream. He begins to write about a garden and an apple that if eaten could save the world. As he begins to type, the typing around him stops.
"Someone has a good thought. I can feel it. Someone has a message of wisdom and knowledge that could save the world. Let us read it. Let us encourage him to keep writing," another voice says while slowly walking from a far corner of the small library.
"I want to translate it," another voice says while the whole league of writers began to gather around Marlin.
There was another writer, she was small and handicap and could not walk, her name was Cindy.
"I understand," she said, comprehending the words on the paper, the words were so strong that she began to walk.
Teresa, another writer in the league, she had lost her hearing in a war zone in Bosnia, but had been so moved by the words that she began to hear.
Craig, a writer from America, he had been a victim of domestic violence and lost his sight when his father splashed bleach in his face. He did most of his reading from a braille book.
"I can see Marlin, I can see," He shouted.
"Shhhhhhhhhh. Let him finish." A small voice said, calming him down.
Writing himself to peace, finishing up, Marlin sat with the league of writers around him, there was paper and ink everywhere.
"It is good," he explained.
The reporter of the group, Stacey, collected his pages and began to edit. She bound each page together in the form of a book. Marlin noticed that the noise from the war had stopped. Everyone stood around skimming through the pages of their writings while the sun emerged from the clouds peeking through the windows of the library.
"This is a good story. Marlin Apple, we finally have some good news to report," Stacey said with enthusiasm.
The League of Writers then got a hold of every media source that they could to spread the good news.
With good news the world was all good, and everything good, gives good vibes and good life. With everything good, the possibilities were endless and the thoughts were full of life.
In this, the League of Writers kept the good news flowing, making everything around them good and full of life. The secret weapon could not be found in war but in the power to create good news and good thoughts.
Carry-on and keep writing Mr. Apple, the world needs more writers like you.
The End.

Friday, November 3, 2017

The Unlawful Politician of Cranberry Village

The village was called: Cranberry; Cranberry Village, and it was known for it's witchcraft. When the village people noticed other villagers walking into sick-call and coming out even sicker, speculation soon became a daily part of the village culture. When one of the members of the board, Willie Stevens, had been deep in sin and caught an unclean disease, he was left with no choice but to go into sick-call. One of the witches called it for what it was, an unlawful act that led to disease, and she knew he had to be quarantined. When she tried to expose what Mr. Stevens had been doing to the rest of the public, like any corrupted politician, Willie shunned the witches and got to the village people first.
"Dear brothers and sisters of Cranberry, it has come to my attention that witchcraft is what's making the village people sick. I've got a petition here--a petition to have every last one of them burned at the stake by sunrise," Willie declared.
Willie had now gotten the village people all revved-up. Knowing that they would believe him over the witches and realizing that no one was being cured, the towns people then tied up all of the witches and watched them burn at the stake. The next day Willie's disease had spread all over his body and had also infected all of the people in the village. With no medicine or further treatment, everyone in the little village ended up dead in a matter of weeks.
If one corrupted politician had been righteous and admitted his failures, this could have been prevented. In all of the madness, all that had been left over was a crate of medicine and a small book that one of the witch doctors carried to keep records. The fatal plague soon spread to other surrounding villages, but with no science left to find a cure or treatment, most of the people turned to the priests and other religious clergymen for help. One village priest passed out jars of alcohol and old booze and told the masses of people to mix it with water that he had sanctified and made holy. Realizing that nothing was working, little Edith, one of the village's young virgins, had somehow become immune to the fatal disease. In desperation, the village priest and the people took to her as being the pure saint sent from God to heal them, they then took specimens of her blood and began to mix it with theirs. Having no knowledge about human physiology and little education, masses of village people soon realized that it would only work for some of the victims. With little Edith and only a tenth of the victims alive, the remaining villagers got together and proclaimed Edith as their queen. They then burned the bodies of the dead, and began to build temples with the virgin, Queen Edith, as the center piece. Two thousand years after this terrible travesty, the lost book of records recorded by the witches was found by archeologist whom all hailed it as the lost text of the holy scriptures. Using the techniques in the lost book, the new age of thinkers revered it and found it useful in their practice of purity and lawful ways, never knowing it to be a product of witchcraft.
A practical thinker will read this story and understand that there are mechanics of knowledge. A conclusive thinker may see it as it is--realizing the cause and effects. But in each case, whether good or bad, without science, there would be something missing in the recipe of certainty when evaluating the facts. The only thing certain is that one event led to the construction of assumptions rooted from corruption. Leaving present thought to be shaped by one corrupt act of foul play, with only the story teller knowing the truth and the individuals in the story being the victims of a lie. This chain of events all occurred because of one unlawful political act.
The End.   

Monday, October 30, 2017

Does it matter?

Today I can conquer the world and tomorrow I'll be dead.
Does it matter?
I can have all of the women and have children by each, but just like my life--their life too must come to an end.
Does it matter?
I can build buildings that can reach the heavens but they also will wither away and be torn down.
Does it matter?
I could play for every professional sports team and break every record and even be crowned a champion but I too must grow old.
Does it matter?
Why live this life?
Why are we here?
Is a mountain meant to be climbed?
Is a child meant to learn?
Is man meant to fly?
Does it matter?
I could be the perfect man and commit no sin and be executed and be remembered throughout the ages, "for what?," I ask.
Does it matter?
Yes, she loves me, but when the going gets tough she is no where in sight, only for another girl to step in. All of the courting, gossip, and romance for what?
Does it even matter?
I could read every book and be the smartest man alive and still not know how to make my bed.
I could jump from a building and live but still have broken bones.
I could even be rich and famous and still not have a true friend in the world and have it all taken away in a matter of seconds.
Does it matter?
Generations have come and gone.
Men have bled and died over a land flowing with milk and honey.
Pyramids have been built and left deserted.
People have claimed to have died and come back to life only to die again.
In all that has been done; in all that has been said; throughout all whom have walked this earth to build a kingdom for it only to be overcome and overrun by another civilization.
My final thought in all of the work is: Does it matter?

Saturday, October 28, 2017

A Scary Story

It was a cold and windy night and I got invited out to film a small get-together. Little did I know, there was a sexual harassment case brewing in the air. Stepping in the hall, ready to work and film, I felt so relaxed by the soothing sounds of music; then that's when it happened. The chocolate beast got ahold of my mind. The chocolate beast got ahold of my thoughts and like cheese to a rat, I was drawn to her at first sight. Oooooooooh it was scary. My mind got entrapped, and everything I knew that was right and good had somehow disappeared. I touched her, and when I did, the chocolate beast came bursting through the hall window and ripped me apart, while everyone else stood and watched. Getting eatened alive, I fell to the ground screaming and no one helped, my wallet then fell to the floor and they all took their share of my hard earned cash. My flesh was splattered all over the hall, for the chocolate beast had consumed me. I had been trampled-on and fooled. As everyone continued on, the chocolate beast dragged what was left of me out of the hall, with one eyeball still gleaming with sight, I saw her wink at me. She too got a split of my earnings. Seeing her in that spell-bounding outfit was my last and final thought, playing over and over again in eternal damnation. What a scary, scary story.
The End.

Friday, October 27, 2017

The Con Game

It was a hot day and my friend Teddy and I noticed that our neighbor Fred was up to his old self again, he had his youngest daughter out in the front yard selling lemonade. Fred was always trying to make an extra buck. Everyday he had been selling something. When they came out with the soft drink, Fred countered with sugar water. When they came out with faucet water, Fred countered with bottled water. At first we thought he was crazy until we noticed the amount of people over his house everyday. The guy had an amazing operation going on, it's like he knew how to convince people that they needed everything he had. He even had a farm and a forest in his backyard and put all of the food marts out of business. Just the other day we noticed a space station that he had in the works a mile down the road. The guy had it going on. He took everything that people needed and put a price tag on it. Lord only knows what he had his oldest daughter doing for a buck.
"Hey Fred, do people really need all of that stuff you sell?" I asked.
Fred replied, "No, but I'm only selling it because nobody gave me a dime when I was broke. I'm conning them like they conned me. Now that will be twelve dollars for our conversation."
After paying him for our conversation, Teddy decided to open up a bank and I decided to open up a law office. I painted my house white and gave myself a fancy name, I called myself "the President." I made my buck by taxing people and Teddy made his by giving them loans to buy from Fred.
The End.

Wednesday, October 25, 2017

The God Particle

.                       .                         .                     .                       .                    .                       .                    

             .                             .                               *.                         .                            .

.                        .                         .                     .                       .                      .                     .

Just because you were not made to see it, doesn't mean that it's not there. It's hiding in the darkness between the stars. The wind does not blow by chance and the light does not shine because of grace. You are just a spec of a universal operation. The movement sits in the temple of your imagination. You shine too:-)

Tuesday, October 24, 2017

The Mountain Top

If you pay close attention to the concept of climbing a mountain, you will notice that the process takes time. At first it seems impossible, it seems impossible until it's done. That may be why you only see one plus symbol at the top of the example. Few make it to the peak, I'm with you, let's keep trying to reach the top. From far away you will notice how easy the equation may seem:-)

Monday, October 23, 2017

Peace & Quiet


Saturday, October 21, 2017


She wants to fly...
She then goes into a building and listens to a message that tells her that flying is evil.
Later that day, she becomes afraid of learning how to fly.
What would happen if she believed what she heard?
What would happen if she learned how to fly?
The question is not what she learned, but whom will she learn to listen to?
She then watches a plane crash and burn. Everyone on board is dead.
She feels as though she lucked up, but what if she were the pilot who learned how to fly and saved the people on the plane?
Is the fact that she watched and lived, supernatural?
Is the fact that she watched, evil?
Or is the ability to learn how to fly the plane, good?
Humm...superstition got her again.
She may have missed her calling.

Friday, October 20, 2017


This piece is dedicated to the special children, whom, are often misunderstood, there's a spot at the table for you, but there's no food. There are instruments, books, paint, brushes, computers, pencils and pads here just for you. Use the weapons and gifts that the designer (Lord) gave you, wisely. This piece is not intended to offend but to get others to comprehend a world ruled by art and artist. God bless you.

Okay doctor, I get it, I'm not like the others.
Something in me strives for attention.
Okay pastor, if you take a second, you'll notice that we have a lot in common.
Does not a liberal and a conservative desire the same type of love?
I do know that even a deity needs attention.
How bout you call me by my real name.
How bout you tell me what I really am.
Come to my altar and become a fan.
Come to my clinic and get a dose of life.
Come to my kingdom and witness an angel on earth.
Witness the miracles once the sounds and feelings of nature hit me.
Only then will you understand why I need so much attention.
I was sent here to bring life to a dying world.

Tuesday, October 17, 2017

The First Man to Create a Thousand Bubbles

"In this presentation, I would first like to explain the chemical composition of soap and water. What I want you to keep your eyes on, in my first exhibit, is the perfect sphere that emerges from the composition. I will first start with what I call the blower, which will push the soapy formula into the atmosphere, thus, causing the spheres to float," Booker explained to a group of investors and scientist. When the bubbles started to float around the room, everyone started ducking and dodging them. A small group of investors, whom of which, had known nothing about chemistry hid underneath their table. In the midst of the astonishment, Booker stood tall, it was comical for a man of his stature to achieve such a noble task. In the eyes of the elite, he was a bum, who was now the center of attention.
"This is my example of the universe," he said, while a thousand bubbles floated around the room.
In all of recorded history, this had never been done. Once Booker did this, everything changed. Booker provided a spark in the mind of every human on earth. He became a catalyst, people from all over the world gravitated to him; some regarded him as a freak, some even called him a genius. Rival scientist tried to have him assassinated. The physical laws of thinking about how gravity and the universe worked had now been shattered. "Booker Gram Washington," had become a household name. His invention even hit the financial arena. Bankers now started creating ways to inflate the markets with cash and credit. The bubble of excitement had become so big that it was just a matter of time before the bubble would burst; when it did, everything went from peaking to a complete flatline. In the midst of the flatline, the economy tanked and sent the markets along with the country into a Great Depression. Poor Booker had become exhausted. He sat in his lab room with nothing left in his imagination to give out. He couldn't go anywhere because everyone knew who he was.
"I think I'll go lay down now," he said to his wife, dragging his feet across the floor.
"Booker, I'm worried about you, you haven't been eating and you've spent most of your days sitting in that same lab chair. What's the matter with you?" Mrs. Washington asked.
Completely drained, Booker just walked by her and said nothing. His famous bubble had gotten so big that it exploded. The only people left to care for Booker was his wife and daughter. Once the excitement was over, everyone ran with his ideas and created their own bubbles, leaving poor Booker to fend for himself.
The End.

Sunday, October 15, 2017

Pawns of Chess

Standing in the middle of an opened field it becomes evident that the mass amounts of civilians are asleep.
I don't think anyone is paying attention.
"Can anyone hear me, they're taking all of our land," I scream, but no one listens.
Women born from the generations of former slaves, separatists, puritans and masters, now lost in a field ruled by intellects. Men left with no wives, now resort to artificial sexuality to satisfy their needs.
In a field of pawns, no one knows what's really going on, they're just having fun.
"Can anyone hear me, they're stealing our children," I scream, but no one listens.
The earth begins to shake and in the distance I see a man holding a grenade launcher.
I fall to the ground to save myself, I can hear a construction crew drilling for oil, I soon realize that we've become powerless.
I can see the separation between the rich, poor, and middle class, but it may be too late.
The machines have taken over.
Realizing that I can only save myself, I start running.
I don't think some people know what's going on, I don't think they care anymore.
Many of them are standing in line to hear poets and false prophets.
Wiping my eyes from sweat, I then take cover, I see a woman in the distance with a bible searching for the king, I can't help but wonder if she knows what's at stake.
Reaching for my weapon, I've come to understand the rules of the game.
I can hear a peasant girl crying in the distance, her dirty doll falls to the ground.
I push her out of the way as her doll falls on a landmine, boom, my ears ring, I dread the fact that I'm awoke.
Sitting in the middle of an open field with needles and syringes, it becomes evident that the mass amounts of civilians are asleep.
I wait for the next move and see the pieces in position to take the king.
Running to take cover I see someone in a small room watching televison, he's caught off guard.
Lost in the television, a bolt of lighting strikes the watch tower, it's a warzone, and now it's become dark. We've lost power.
No one is educated enough to fix the outage and the enemy knows this.
The peasant girl then screams, awaking from her coma, revealing our hiding place.
I then hear a soldier speaking a foreign language as he puts his gun up to my head.
If I'm correct, I think he said, "checkmate."
The game is over, if only the citizens had stayed awoke, we might've had a chance.
Yet, instead of victory, we've now become prisoners of war.
I then hear the enemy's national anthem playing in the distance while we're all forced to stand.
We unknowingly gave up the ship.
We unknowingly lost the game.

Tuesday, October 10, 2017

Veteran Affairs?

Excuse me, Sir, can you tell us how it feels to be a veteran so we can help serve you better:
Humm, let me see...
You remain humble, even when you know that the time you served is always in your thoughts.
Not too much surprises you, unless your family throws you some huge birthday bash and someone special jumps out of the cake.
You become thankful for each day.
The thought of war is still there but you suck it up, let come what may.
You still have the passion to wear the uniform sometimes.
You sometimes have trouble with things that don't make sense, but like any veteran, you have to roll with the punches.
You learn that complaining only waste time, but you should seek help when needed.
You soon find out that a normal life is just the ability to get up and be grateful for what you have.
In most cases, your mother or father become your only true friend.
Memories make you stronger in some situations, depending on your state of mind.
Sometimes you're a little afraid to share your thoughts, but it's okay, it's normal, some things are better left unsaid.
In all reality, we find out that we're human and we cannot make people love us or feel what we feel.
"'It is what it is,' I'm not a fool for volunteering, I'll just work with the hand I'm dealt." Is what you constantly tell yourself when something goes wrong.
"I'm not stupid for believing that enlisting was the right thing to do." Is the second thing you tell yourself when you see something that degrades your service to the country.
You sometimes find purpose in small things.
You sometimes find yourself volunteering, still wanting to save the world, but later find out that you need as much help as everyone else.
You find yourself smiling when you see other Veterans smiling, because you can relate to their problems.
You find yourself wanting to help when you see other Veterans suffering, because you know it's not fair.
You learn that the war is never over and the real battle is inside.
The battle to workout and stay in shape so that other veterans will stay motivated becomes a top priority sometimes.
No regrets is the best way to motivate yourself to reach higher.
I volunteered because I believed that in my heart, I would be fighting for a good cause, is what you hold dear to.
In the end, you learn that a crazy person can only be judged by what they do when things are falling apart.
You encourage yourself sometimes by realizing that you volunteered to sacrifice your life for others, even when it meant nothing to some.
Then when you die and see the light of a soldier's heaven and the war is over, you Rest In Peace, realizing that you were not crazy after all.
It was all in your heart.
At least that's my opinion.

Sunday, October 8, 2017


If only the law didn't exist; because of the law, there's fornication, because of the law, there's adultery, and in that simple equation, we all may become guilty of trying to follow the law.

I want to warn you that this description can be graphic and once the act is done, it cannot be undone.
First it starts with two individuals. They both fall in love and are like magnets, you can't keep them apart. It's a spontaneous event that occurs in life. After a little time together the arguments start. One accuses the other of an instinct of mistrust. Then there's wondering eyes, the male's conscience starts to kick-in and he feels that they're doing something wrong or should tie the knot (get married) at least in some cases. Sometimes it's just a mutual agreement. Then it happens; he proposes, and she says yes. In some cases they've already had sex before marriage so the honeymoon is nothing new, but what can I say, some people do do it the right way and some people don't. In the forces of attraction sometimes kids end up in the deal, but I haven't got to that part yet. The fact remains evident that something happens when two people decide to have sexual relations. There's like this bond that stays there, sometimes it gets old and sometimes it just won't go away. It's like a drug, a craving to want more of a feeling, a lust that is embedded in the brain. In these events things start to get mismanaged or the feeling becomes old and the body yearns for a new feeling. To simplify the issue, two people, whom, have been committed, start to feel as though they're missing something and any sign of excitement or someone else inviting them in, can happen at any moment within this process. Then that's when it happens. It could be at work; it could be next door; it can even be in your house. Once he or she starts to feel the urge to try something or someone new, the battle between priorities and sacrifice begin inside the mind and body. The thoughts invade the mind, images of porn--if that's his or her selection to feed the beast--start to entrap the bystander to want to contain the beast, but the more the beast is fed, the more the urge just won't go away. Then the lying starts. The phone becomes the leading cause of every downfall, the internet becomes the connection, and then there's the loss in time. Where were you? Who was that? How did he or she get your number? The beast has been set free and the children or anything innocent, becomes the victim. If only fundamentals were fun. The beast does not care about the children. The beast doesn't even care about you. But after all, we're only human, right? The beast only wants to satisfy the hormone, the beast wants to satisfy the feeling. Is it evil to want to feel good? Is it evil to want to feed the beast? It's like magic, why does the beast only want what looks tempting. Oh, and lets just pray that he or she doesn't drink. It's like a game, it's like a thrill of excitement and pressure is made to burst pipes. Clothing everywhere, years of trust, preaching, and family bonding, gone, just for that one burst of excitement. A ring of pure gold tarnishes, and tiny drops of someone's sweat, other than yours, all over your husband or wife. The bond of trust is then broken and all of the work, time, and money becomes a field of garbage and waste, left for someone else to pickup. Gossip, and the center of attention awaits you, in the midst of no understanding. Some couples forgive; some couples don't, and some couples are just trapped. The rest is like a dream that you thought would be good but actually turns out to be a nightmare. Legal sex for some reason has driven you mad and into a complete sexual maniac. Once the beast opens up your mind to a world of options and fantasies, the lasting image of what he or she is wearing the next day eats away at you. Temptation is a wonder of the world. Once all hell breaks loose and the hands of time take it's course, there's no turning back. If only you had made the right choice. Each night you're paranoid, hoping that the cat will stay in the bag. Let's just pray that you make it out alive, once or if, you're little secret gets out. If only there were a logical explanation for why it's hard for two people to settle; if only one could be content; if only you had done it the right way. All this time of wondering and mystery; building up each moment, each night, like a ticking time bomb, waiting to explode. Then you're left with the constant question on your mind at the end of the day, with or without your significant other, the question of: Is or was it worth it?

The End.   

Friday, October 6, 2017


I know I'm just a small fry and an unknown compared to great stories throughout the ages, but by my desire each day to be a wordsmith, I've always been amazed with the meaning of and the word: "mercy." I often fail to understand human thinking, even my own at times, but the intellect of a human being is interesting, because it grows as we seek more wisdom and understanding. We often create things in our mind that we use to motivate us to do more than ordinary things, some of us believe in a higher power and some of us don't, yet, we all have the ability to show mercy. The question is: Why? I watch and read about stories of nature and how the elements show no mercy. Floods and other natural disasters. I read about animals and humans that viciously attack people and other humans with no mercy. I even read about things that we do to each other in our own natural state of mind, we are an amazing species. I watch boxing and see other fighters picking each other up, the same thing occurs when I choose to watch other sports as well. Having a mind that constantly flows, I sometimes even wonder about myself, but I've come to understand that nothing more can drive a person to greater power or force than mercy. How did this word come about, where did it come from? What person shows mercy to other surrounding creatures or humans that show no mercy. I often wonder about history. I see slaves, Christians, Muslims and Jews, even ordinary and famous people suffering. To feel their pain is often forgotten or left for little discussion. Even when I served in the U.S. Navy, I saw myself in the mirror, along with my fellow brothers (soldiers), suffering. I've even read books about Indians, suffering. Children in the heat of war with adults fighting over beliefs having to suffer in their wake. Even in my own life, I have family members, of which some chose to use drugs, some even sell the stuff, some go to seek God's strength yet they still suffer. Women; children; and even, men, left to suffer from a dreaded divorce or separation. The thought of human thinking is unreasonable and our emotions often lead us to do great and glorious things to overcome. Yet, through all of this, something brings me to the reality that there is a force in the universe and a power that we all possess to show towards others whom become victims of or shown, "no mercy." We have the power to show mercy. I think I know why we have this amazing ability and choice, but it shows that as a spieces created by a supreme force or being (in respect to others' beliefs) that we possess more power than we thought. I wish you well in this life and thank you for taking the time to read this random thought. For those of us whom have felt the power of pain and no mercy will tell you to be thankful when mercy is present in your life. It may be the only true miracle that we have left as a human race.
This lasting thought is in memory and thought of those in harms way.

The boy with no fans

His favorite song was the little drummer boy but everytime he tried it himself no one would listen. Everywhere he would go to sing or play, no one would show up. He tried hip hop, rock music, and even jazz. R&B was his last attempt but he couldn't find a band. At the moment he decided to give up, he noticed a broken mirror in the distance of his rehearsal space. All this time he had a fan all along. At the end of his journey with no tickets sold and no body in the crowd the mirror was always his inspiration. Now what's the odds of that. Little John kept his sanity and with one chair for his mirror his concerts were always sold out. He was his number one fan and with no fans he had no problems unless he created them himself.
The End.

Thursday, October 5, 2017

Rule Number 1

"I would like to congratulate you all on your grand accomplishment of making it through boot-camp and some of you whom have had additional training. I hate to say that most of you will start your careers in combat roles but I commend you all on your bravery to volunteer. Before you enter the game of war, I want to warn you all of my first rule on the battle field. The rule that you must bind to your weapons and hold dear to your hearts. This number one rule, is a cardinal order that you must always hold on to, it simply states: 'When the enemy is advancing, a soldier must do everything that he or she can to avoid distractions.'" These were the words that General Grant left his men and women before they carried out the invasion that would've pushed the enemy back and possibly win them the war. With high hopes, in the second week of his mission, General Grant noticed that the enemy had used his number one rule to attack his unit.
"Attention on deck!" Private First Class Cannon shouted as Second Lieutenant Reigns entered the platoon.
"Private Donaldson, you were suppose to be my eyes on the battlefield, what is going on out there?" Second Lieutenant Reigns shouted at the top of his lungs.
Private Donaldson stood tall at attention.
"Sir, they are using our female soldiers against us, Sir," he explained.
"What in the hell are you talking about, Private?" Lieutenant Reigns replied.
"They call the gas 'Selena' it increases the hormones. It's become a whorehouse out there Sir."
After Private Donaldson's explanation, and the fact that he had lost about eighty percent of his whole unit, Lieutenant Reigns had no choice but to pull back and regroup. Realizing that they now had the momentum, the enemy kept advancing. Noticing that their only escape would have to be on water to a base on the other side of the island, Lieutenant Reigns now had no choice but to call off the invasion. He, and what was left of his platoon, escaped on an abandon hovercraft. The enemy had used basic science to defeat his platoon. The gas that they created known as: "Selena," had turned his whole brigade into a night spot. The men and women whom all had enlisted for combat, had become so distracted that they were all blinded by lust and failed to carry-out the mission. In exchange, they not only lost their lives, but they also lost the war. General Grant, along with Lieutenant Reigns, held their heads down in defeat while they tried to explain to their superiors what took place on the dreaded day of Oct. 5. After the hearing, General Grant, had become so devastated by his lose that he later retired, never to return to the battlefield again. His last words at the hearing were, "We didn't see it coming, we had no clue that the enemy was so clever, they used our own strength against us." 

Tuesday, October 3, 2017

The Lost Ones

It's quiet, no ones home.
The phone rings, no one answers.
There are no lights on in the house.
She went on without him, left him broken and lonely.
In the meantime, random thoughts flow through his mind;
even if he takes his own life, life will go on with or without him.
It's evident that it's hard to find a way back home.
The hole has been dug too deep.
They say no one listens to a person that always complains.
I guess this is why lost ones exist. 
Maybe they don't believe that anyone is listening.
The essence of evil thoughts battling with right and wrong can leave a path of innocent victims.
The lost ones...
Lost in the pit of no return, leaving behind baggage  for the innocent to take care of.
They say the enlightened created this mess.
Creating ideas of an end with no optimism.
The idea of a deity is to give life.
Why do some chose to take life away?
The lost ones...
Sinking in sorrow, alone in a small room, thinking about a past that can never be done over.
The lost ones...
Creating a world of trouble in the midst of hidden lifestyles, soon to be revealed to the masses.
But one can only hide behind the mask for so long.  
Is it easy to survive in a life filled with wrong choices?
Pain and consequences that won't go away.
Is it true that some people don't have a conscience? 
Is it true that some people drown in drugs to ease their mind, lost in a wilderness, searching for a way out, some, never to be found again?
The hole is too deep,
it's like drowning with no lifeguard.
Screaming for help.
Asking over and over again for forgiveness and mercy.
Lost, having to face reality.
The lost ones...
Missing in action, some, never to be found again.

Saturday, September 30, 2017

The Never Ending Book∞

As I began to read it, I began to discover the roots that made the pages. I couldn't put it down. Unyielding knowledge, I even learned about my ancestors. The book was my escape, it was my reality. I believed every word. Knowledge. Knowledge, that could make me fruitful, knowledge that could make me great, knowledge with no end. The secret recipe, the secret weapon. Formulas with explosive power, words from every language, vocabulary with no end. I can understand now, I can see. The pages were first turned one at a time, then twenty an hour. I can touch the foundation of the binding and feel the meaning of every word. I can skim through and pick-up pieces to the details of every authors' dying thoughts. Mysteries of the universe, all solved from one generation to the next. Each character, each novel, each story gives me more to do each day. My conversation is clear, my dialect is supreme. I've found the mysteries of every miracle, I've become one with the God particle, I've discovered new elements. Law and order, wisdom from kings. I too, blow like the pages in the wind. I know why gold is worth more than silver. I know nature; I know the answer to each question, the squareroot to each equation. References, notes, indexes, appendixes, epilogues and prologues, I even read the glossary. Series after series, volume after volume, chapter after chapter, with infinite∞∞∞ knowledge. From fiction, to biographies, non-fiction, to horror stories, page after page of the thin layers of wood that were once bound together as leaves. Oh lord, the book of life is infinite. Oh lord, the book of knowledge goes on-and-on. I once was blind but now I see, I was lost but now I'm found. It's a never ending book. It's branches grow stronger and stronger with every generation and with every thought. The secret is hidden in the words. I've split the ocean. Dear sweet lord, there is no end. 

Friday, September 29, 2017

The stage was all she had left

"Poor, rattled, and bruised; band I have one more selection. Some of you may not understand the life of someone whose mind has been open to all forms of thinking. I don't know why we sometimes have to live and suffer but I too see suffering. I too wish I could save the world. This song is for all of my pain that I feel inside. This song is for all of my imperfections. Lord have mercy on us all, please. All I have left is this stage and this microphone. I will sing this last selection for tonight, I will sing to heal the world and the people in it," she explained before her song. After her song, she placed the microphone back on it's stand and exited stage right, she then went home and went to sleep. Every time she got knocked down or felt the woes of the world, she got on stage. Remaining anonymous, she even took to the stage when times were good, for the stage was all she had left.
The End.

Monday, September 25, 2017

The typewriter is all I have left

I will remain anonymous because I've given everything away and the typewriter is all I have left so here's a joke about a donkey and a monkey that I just typed:
One day a donkey walked up to a monkey and grabbed his tail. The monkey screamed in a monkey's tone and told the donkey in his language to stop pulling his tail or he would pin his tail to the wall.
Get it, pin the tail on the donkey. Ha ha ha.

Saturday, September 23, 2017

Academic Peace

The tone of her dialect was certain. There were no bombs or hostile invitations. There was silence. In the midst of an intellectual conversation, the communication was organized. The casual intervention between guest, was just that, "casual." If there was conflict, then there were consequences. The consequences involved productive thinking because if not then the mind would go stale and have to be purged of harmful thoughts. Gateways of the mind would later open leading to insanity because using the brain requires thinking. Using the brain requires meditation to satisfy the temple. To much negative influence can result in violence. Violence, leads to pain. Violence, creates doubt. Violence, creates fear that is only resolved by warriors. This intellect leads to strategic thinking, strategic thinking to outsmart the enemy. Strategic thinking that strains the body to achieve victory. When there is temptation, there has to be discipline. Discipline creates awareness to conserve. Hostile creatures create war. Hostile creatures resolves conflict with lack of empathy for others around them. Life is precious. Without life, nothing exist. Ambitious people often forget that every spec of dust has it's place on earth, to much consumption often leads to emptiness with trash to fill the space in the end. Children that play and grow old later cherish the silence as time passes by because they too have to learn that everything must come to an end. It's wise to read. It's wise to walk away. It's wise to be patient. It's also wise to understand that some people are dealt a different hand and do not respond accordingly. Why are leaders often left alone? Why do their children have to suffer in their wake? Why does the orphan question the existence of God? The human body often yearns for peace. Without it, there's no goal.  When someone speaks, it's wise to listen and create productive conversation instead of a hostile response. The result of such noble criteria will eventually lead to academic peace. 

Wednesday, September 20, 2017


Wesley, was his name. He ran for president three times and failed every time. He was born in the dirt. Bred in the school of hard knocks, he learned that being clean would leave you in the slumps. Wesley's father taught him that no one likes a do-good, clean-cut, puritan. In this upbringing, Wesley saw the true nature of human beings. In the final days of his campaign, he concluded that people somehow enjoyed being treated like trash. He studied abusive relationships and determined that the reason the woman kept coming back was because the man kept abusing her. No one cares about the lifeless or the poor, left to eat trash, unless it's them. He concluded that about ninety-percent of people were selfish or envious, and would eventually become greedy snobs. In this assumption, Wesley spent most of his life in a small room. He was left with no choice but to be a pessimist and regretted ever being born. His ability to love, was never to be shown in front of people. "People like it dirty," this was his belief, and if they say anything otherwise then they're lying. Men want sex and women want to be in charge. Children want candy and you have to force them to read books. After losing his forth run for president and seeing an evil tyrant win, Wesley returned to isolation. He saw veterans and men who died for the freedom of the world being treated like dirt. Most of them lacked the power and knowledge to better themselves. They were at a disadvantage to the system. Wesley became a symbol to them. He became a god. If the people voted for trash and didn't have enough sense to notice it, then they too, deserved to be treated like dirt. In reality, Wesley hated the fact that his father was correct. Realizing that people spent most of their time trying to clean up dirt, he never married and spent most of his time at the graveyard, burying dead bodies in and with dirt. In his last rebellion, he took all of the broken people with nothing to lose, and overthrew the people in power. He developed so many followers that at the end of his reign he ruled the world. When he died, he returned to the dirt just like everyone else.

Tuesday, September 19, 2017


I looked into the eyes of a harlot today, a descendant of Judah. In her eyes I saw pain and a yearning to be pure again. She no longer wears white at her wedding. She became a harlot because her husband could not provide for her, it turns out he also had 10 mistresses on the side. Lord knows what her daddy did to her. Her children have been abandoned and submitted to the system. They are orphans now. She has been left to sell herself for sexual favors in return. She has been left for dead. In her eyes I saw pain. When I saw this, I stopped, and my lust for her turned into sorrow. I cried out for my own soul to be forgiven, I cried out for my own heart to understand why she died in front of me. She died of an overdose and I tried to save her. Her life was worth nothing to man but she now rest in the hands of the most high. I'm sure she did not put in a good report on the other side of what has happened to her here on earth. Once a goddess of life; now a dead woman, with not even enough money for her own funeral. Raised to know the difference between right and wrong but left with no choice but to submit to the evils of nature. Lord help us all. You've shown so much mercy, yet we're still lost. I'm not a priest, nor am I a member of a clergy, but I think I know why the black flag remains in the sky. 

Saturday, September 16, 2017

Dark Stars

Word on the street is that your daddy provided the spark that lit the flame.
Then once you shined you gave off so much light that everyone knew your name.
Shine until you drop.
That's how you get paid.
You're a star in the center of a mass parade.
"You," turns to "it," and darkness surrounds the light.
I wonder if that's why they call it a star, shooting at the wee hours of the night.
Once the shining stops, it's consumed by the darkness.
Deep into the darkness of space, it burns out, waiting to shine again.
The reds, greens, and blues that provided so much color have now faded to black as other stars take over the shine.
Only those in the dark can see the light my friend.
But just because it's dark doesn't mean that the star is not there.
And then, the moon comes out...
The blind are given sight, they too can feel the vibes.
But can they see?
Stay at a distance or you may get burned by the heat.
You're not normal, the physics of the brightness is equated, summing you up as a freak.
If only you could shine everyday of the week.
Too much attention is given to the light, but even a dessert can be hot at night.
Light a candle and put it in the air.
When the flame burns out, light a flare.
Is a star that doesn't give off light, a star?
Maybe it's a dark star sitting in space, waiting to shine again.

Monday, September 11, 2017

Mr. Peeper's Amazing Hat

"Excuse me! Mr. Peeper, you forgot your hat...Mr. Peeper, wait..." Damion said, rushing down to catch the famous and amazing: Mr. Peeper.
Damion was spellbound by the details of the hat that Mr. Peeper had left behind. While picking it up, he could feel the energy within the fine sewn remnants of color. Damion couldn't help but to borrow it for the evening. He had reservations for the memorial ceremony that night for terror victims, and he wanted to turn heads that evening but there was something tempting about Mr. Peeper's amazing hat that he could not do without. The hat matched every inch of his red, white, and blue outfit. When he stepped on the scene that evening, everyone stopped to greet him and he became the main attraction. He found himself dancing with some of the finest women that evening. Damion couldn't believe all of the new friends he had made. People were lining up all over the place just to get a picture of him in his fancy outfit and Mr. Peeper's hat.
At the end of the night, with all of the stars in the sky, Damion's day was complete.
He returned Mr. Peeper's hat where he left it and would never forget the moments he got to spend with all of the people while wearing Mr. Peeper's amazing hat.
The next day, Damion saw Mr. Peeper wearing his hat again and he sat back and reflected on the one night that he got to wear the amazing hat that made him the show stopper.
"What an amazing hat. I sure wish it were mine," Damion thought to himself.
That evening, Mr. Peeper left the hat in the same spot where Damion had found it the first time, but this time he left it with a letter for Damion.
The letter read:
Thanks for the great evening at the Grand Towers, you didn't notice me without my hat but I noticed you. Since the hat gave you so much joy and you returned it, it may be better for you to have it.

Mr. Peeper

Monday, September 4, 2017

Dragged into the Equation of Power and War

First let's see what you have that I want.
How much is your mother worth to you?
How much are your children worth?
We've misunderstood your mission.
We feel as though you've gained to much power.
We want it...we need it for our people...we need it for our country...we need if for our allies.
First let's examine your borders.
How can we get across?
Let's examine your shores.
How can we infiltrate? 
Let's examine your people.
In the midst of your census, who will stand with you when tested?
How much do you have to offer?
A new game of spying starts to take place.
Is it that hard to trust us?
I've studied your allies and I've taken your ransoms and built up my military to even things out.
You give, I take. You take, I kill.
These are the rules because we don't trust you, it's not in our code of conduct.
Is our God the same?
Do our kings not desire the same things that your kings desire?
The laws of power are complex. The laws of power are not for the average person.
Take away everything that is free and make the people totally dependent on who sits in the high chair.
Tighten up the border, make a currency that you issue and create a total bureaucracy so the people do not rebel.
Kill the whistle blowers and hold the bomb.
If the citizens are stupid, then they will have no clue what is being planned.
If the citizens are smart then they to will be dragged in.
No matter what, someone will have to die.
I know it's sad but let's see what's at stake.
Let's find a solution to the equation. 
Let's examine those who seek and understand power.
Let's examine the laws of nature.
Can you keep producing?
Can you handle it?
The position is like the sun giving off light with no clouds or breeze.
It's hot; it's crazy; it's wild; it's powerful. 
How much would you give if someone were to threaten to take something away that you love?
Would you be forced to kill if someone struck first?
When everyone wants what you have, things can get complicated.
An hour break on the golf course to make you seem proficient while the world awaits your every move becomes the norm.
A ten day vacation...paranoid...thinking...wondering...but most of all...afraid.
Disaster strikes, and civilization starts to wonder about everything taken for granted.
One false move and the equation falls apart.
Millions of thrill seekers knocking at your door.
Avengers aiding the path of power's destruction.
The craving to be in the seat as the alpha spirit refuses to be tamed.
What becomes of the moment, who will declare to be independent.
Billions of dead bodies left on your quest.
If there was just one friend...
One phone call...
One true love that could stop the madness. 
Will the dollar last to feed a family?
Why do they want us in a war?
Why are they constantly trying to drag us in?
In the equation of power and war there is business.
Business makes goods that other people want.
Business makes goods that other people need.
War is big business...
Then there is thought...
What is being human?
This is the question you will constantly ask yourself over and over again in the mirror.
While emotions flow and the true nature of human intellect and human needs start to emerge, you will find yourself searching for reason, searching for something that can make sense of the matter.
Good becomes evil; evil becomes good.
God, becomes needed.
God, becomes wanted.
Is this what God is?
Is God the power that will settle everything?
Then it starts to rain.
The rain then becomes a flood.
After the flood the sun comes out.
When it comes out, all of the chaos becomes real; there's no escape.
In a small room, you sit alone, trying to find the solution to the equation of power and war.
In a small room you cry out for a savior.
Realizing you're alone in a room, the news won't go away.
A bad habit becomes needed.
In the midst of consumption, you become numb.
You're human after all.
You feel what they feel.
Everyone is a part of the equation.
In the midst of tears and all of the inner pain, a dove then comes to the window and starts to sing.
You took on the task and leverage is knocking at your door.
It becomes like the bully in the first grade.
It becomes like the animal in the jungle.
Others around are driven to do things that they would not ordinarily do to survive.
A simple day becomes a week.
A minute becomes an hour.
Every cent and every second must be counted.
All eyes are on you and someone has to pay up.
Then the baby cries and the equation becomes simple.
You're dragged into the room to find out what he or she wants.
You're dragged into the room to find out what he or she needs.
If you say no, it's abuse, if you give-in, the child becomes spoiled.
This one life simplifies the equation of who's in charge.
Once that becomes evident, the dust settles.
The person in charge makes the decision to adhere to the needs of others and the equation of power is solved.
Whoever shots first, is guilty.
If they're aiming at your territory then they want a fight.
Take on the business of war and find out where they got the ammunition to strike and make them suffer so they will feel what it's like to be dragged into a war.
Once all of the dragging and complaining is over, everyone will appreciate peace and the ones in power will stand and recharge.
I pray that we were not born for this.  

Friday, September 1, 2017

Cut from the team

I stood up for the National Anthem.
I even put on my lucky socks.
Leroy injured his ankle but he played every minute.
He made the team on a bad ankle.
Man, was I really that bad? 
What do I do now?
I guess I'll go back to the gym and try again next year.
Damn, I really wanted the job.
I guess I'll go read a book.
My day will come.
I may be cut from the team but I still feel like a champion. 

Monday, August 28, 2017

Mommy, how come?

Mommy, how come they keep raising money for cures and people still dying?
Mommy, how come those people in dad's drawer don't have no clothes on, does he like you, mommy?
Mommy, how come they talk about race all the time when the only one's who're running are trying to get away?
Mommy, how come you pray after you do something wrong but you won't let me play with the plugs? If I get shocked you won't have to deal with me anymore. Is that love Mommy?
Mommy, how come you play the lottery when you could've used the money for food? Did you win mommy?
Mommy, how come you have a job and you don't have any money?
Mommy, how come people keep giving all of their money to the people who already have it?
Mommy, how come those grown men dress in costumes to kill each other?
Mommy, how come when you try to get daddy to go hunt for food he say he need a license? I thought that is what he was made to do?
Mommy, how come those officers taking daddy away I thought he worked for the President? He just got the job.
Mommy, how come you keep telling me to shut up? That's not fair Mommy.

Friday, August 25, 2017

The Bomb

I hid, yup, that's what I did. I came outside, now everyone's gone. Those jokers blew everything up and I'm the only survivor. No more war, no more crazy games. Once the smoke cleared, it was just me left, oh man, I don't even have a name anymore. I ate off of the apple tree, yes I did, and no one said a thing because they're all gone. I can play my own music now and sing my own songs. Gee-wiz, what a solution, no more problems-not even pollution. I ran through the streets and took a swim, I feel great, I was not like them. I'm the only one left, only me. I'm free from the world that dropped the bomb, I'm the last one left. The world is perfect now, let me find a mirror, I can see my face. They blew up the world and now there is no more race. What a sad story. Why did they kill everyone, boy, I'm starting to feel lonely. Why did they drop the bomb? I'm the last one left. I have no purpose, what a mess. Am I even alive? Well at least there is finally peace on earth.
Maybe they should have found a better solution.
The End. 

Saturday, August 12, 2017

The Secret Weapon

Tough, strong, weak and fragile. Bullets, death, nuclear bombs, life, survival, and fresh air. War, peace, win and lose. Power, rich and even poor. These are natural laws of physics, nature and almost every religion. Pain hurts and pleasure feels good. Good and evil; a common thinker knows that one cannot exist without the other. The cycle is eternal. Negative energy attracts positive energy and positive energy attracts negative energy.
Stay neutral.

Friday, August 11, 2017

The Addiction

I came across a video today that proves that there is a force trying to not only save me but save my fellow man and woman. We as a human species battle to be perfect at everything we do in life yet we often fail. Being a victim, I can only write about what addiction can do to those of us whom have not come out of the battle a winner. In the midst of my own failures, I too, must battle with the beast. This message though is not about me, it's about what I've seen.
I came across a video today that proves that there is a force trying to not only save me but save my fellow man and woman. There are forces trying to save us. On our journey to overcome our addictions, we often see a small sign that tries to warn us to take a better path, some heed the warning sign and some don't. Life on this planet is important, but those of us whom of which are addicted to something will tell you that strange things happen when you're alone and in battle with self. This message is simply only for you to follow the signs. I too have been a victim and battle with my own demons but to overcome is the only true miracle. Good luck in all of your journeys and may the creator of life strengthen you to find a place of peace so that you will not become a victim.
Testimony: Not to long ago I had the privilege of doing a fundraiser for addicts. At the fundraiser I got a call from my teenage cousin, the strange thing about this call is that I had never heard from her until this point, ever. The odds of her calling at that time were slim to none. When she called, I stood still like a rod in the middle of a moving crowd of people. We didn't have a good turnout from the show but I learned something that day. I later found out that she had overdosed but was brought back to life. I do not know why God has made my life this way and to this day I have no clue why she called. So many of the people I love are in chains. If you finished this post then you will have some idea of what a man who sits in a war zone has to do to win the battle. I know I'm not alone and I cannot save the world, but this post is only intended so that just like me you too can come across something that may save you. Follow the signs, there is a force trying to save us. I just joined and I'm now addicted to being a better person for the rest of my life.  

Monday, August 7, 2017


The faucet is leaking, I can hear it while sitting in silence on the floor in the other room. The singer taking a bath must have flown away. I guess everyone sings in the bathroom. I'm worried about certain things that I cannot control. Outside of these walls the world is still in motion, while ten million thoughts flow through my mind. It's a big world out there, beyond these walls. My neighbor must think I'm crazy from all of the laughter that goes on in a one man apartment. In all that laughter the room then goes silent. I become sadden by all of the evil that I have to face outside of these walls. It won't stop. I often wonder about the world. I wonder about the people. I wonder about myself. I then drift into a state of carelessness but I keep hearing voices telling me that everything will be fine. They've been in my ear my whole life. Then there's silence. In the silence I sit in a small corner holding the wings of a broken angel knickknack in my hand. Is that what we are? Are we humans just broken angels trying to fight our way back into heaven. In the midst of the voices, I see a light shining through the door. I feel a connection to the music now playing down the hall. I feel alive, I feel like flying. I feel like an angel. 

Sunday, July 30, 2017

American Intellect

Planting seeds on a corner, my mind then goes blank. I see two atheist collecting change to give to the saints.
I forgot how pyramids were built, so I plant a tree instead. 
I'm going in circles, then I bump my head.
I spent my last dime, so I'll earn another until the light turns red.
When I sit down and do nothing,  I'm pronounced dead.

Friday, July 28, 2017

Helping out the Devil

"A call just came in, sir, it seems someone wants to use you as a reference," Jane said to Peter, while keeping an eye on the clock.
"Where do you have to be Jane?" Peter asked, getting closer to her.
"How do you know I have to be somewhere? Jane replies, as though shocked by his question.
"Because you keep looking at the clock." Peter confirms.
It was evident that there was something on Jane's mind.
She seemed like an eagle on it's first flight day.
She had been with the same company for years. Why was today any different?
"Peter I need your help," she responded trembling. 
Peter fixes his tie.
"Now Jane, that's going to come at a price." He says.
"What?" She responds in disbelief.
Peter rubs his hand down her left leg.
"I told you, everyone in this business is a criminal. Your signature proves that you belong to me."
Feeling his advance, Jane just stands there shaking.
"But Peter, I have no one to turn too. I left my whole family to build your kingdom. Look at all we've accomplished together. I just need a break. Please." She says.
Peter proceeds up her blouse.
"Jane, you heard what I said, don't start developing a conscience now. You work for me. You see that punching bag over there in the corner. That is your dumb ass family and this golden elephant represents power, it represents intelligence. Do you want to go back there? There is no room for feelings in this business. The kind at heart get eaten alive and everyone else is a consumer, you know the rules." He takes his other hand and grabs her by the head, forcing her to kiss him.
"Do you understand that Jane?" He says forcing her lips on his.
Jane starts to have flashbacks of all of the family and friends she left behind to advance Peter's Corporate agenda. She remembered when she started, how ambitious she was. As Peter continued his advance on her body, that he had paid for, she stabbed him in the heart with her letter opener. When she stabbed him, he looked her in the eyes.
"Thank you... for setting me free," he said falling to the floor.
 Jane, covered in blood, looked at his desk filled with applications of people wanting to be just like her. She began to cry, her new life in hell had just begun, for she had slain the beast that helped her reach her dreams and there was no turning back. Jane then fell into the prison system and Peter's Palace Inc. was taken over by the next share holder in line. The only good that came out of helping Peter her whole life, was the lesson that Jane had learned when she was bailed out of jail by her family; whom of which, had nothing but their life savings.