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.