Spewing venom from a vile tongue. Sending out words of hate. Cutting each other to pieces, in a war of words that no one can win.

Climbing steps to a darkened roof top, I open a door in to the chilly night air I step out on to tar gravel that slides beneath my feet. I walk out into the darkness and move towards the edge of the man made mountain that towers  high above the streets below. I feel the wind blow into my face as it rushes up the side of the glass and steel. I look out on to the land scape and see visions of wonder. Thousands upon thousands of lights shine up brightly from the streets below. Each one like a star radiating their cold light up towards the tops of mans monuments. I stand in silence as I watch the lights form lines running this way and that. I follow them with my eyes, admiring their symmetry. As if they were a map going to some distant place, they light up the road ways and side walks. For a little while I get lost in the beauty and serenity of the view of the city. It helps me escape the grit and toil that lies just beneath the surface of artificial beauty that we have created to hide our true selves.

To be a king I would wear a heavy crown, because I would bear the burdens of my people. I would not take my ease until the poorest among my people was fed. I would give more than I would take. I would not seek riches or lands, but wisdom as my treasure. I would absorb knowledge so that I could help many and not a few. I would seek out the humble and wise to be judges and not the rich and powerful. The door of my castle would never be closed to the poor or those in need. In all things I would show mercy and give justice in kind.

The land of the free and the home of the brave has been transformed into the place of the scared and hateful. Our children have been stripped of their ability to determine  right from wrong. Parents have been replaced by the television. Most now have to work two jobs just to pay their bills. The government said you do not need a father, now young men treat women like property and ******. Get rich quick or die trying has replaced do unto others as you would have done unto you. The politicians we thought would lead us, have just robbed us blind. They make lofty promises that they cannot keep and keeps us in the dark by design. There is no prosperity, the younger generation wants to be taken care of. The latest phone application has replaced the want for social interaction and hard work is so yesterday. When the greatest generation is gone, will they really be missed? Perhaps this country is better off disassembling and starting over again. When all of our troops have come back and the foreign aid is gone. When nothing else is free and you are left to your own devices, will people really wonder where America has gone?

The sun has made it's journey from the east unto the west. I have labored all of the day now I take my rest. With all of my hard work behind me, I feel the cool of the night. I see the lights of my home and let my spirit rise in delight. Like a Moth ascending to the light of a shimmering moon, my soul leaps towards what waits on me as the sun goes down too soon. The simply joys of children's laughter and a loving wife's caress. These are the things that give my weariness rest. So as I let go of my cares and let my burdens melt away. I find joy and peace at the end of the day.

A set of hands reaching across the world, let this be our symbol, let this be our creed. One family helping another, building bridges to end want and need. Let us give thanks to one another and not make war anymore. Lets build relationships and tear down barriers. Lets us give our neighbors books and not bullets. Lets heal the sick instead of wounding the innocent. Let us unite and fill the needs and eliminate fear and despair. Let mercy show our true nature as we are united by the kindness we give.

Black clouds appear on the horizon! Lightning flashes and thunder rolls. Rain comes down  in sheets as destruction rolls across the prairie. People cringe in holes like Gophers for fear of their impending doom, that is all but a select few who brave the fury of the storm. Running towards the danger in order to catch the wind by the tail. They lunge towards chaos with little though of their own mortality. Racing to learn from destruction in order to better understand forces beyond mortal control. Men and women of untold courage live to storm chase in order to help others strive to live.

Days go by then month and years, yet nothing seems to move. The sun rises and the sun sets and time wears on. Listening in anticipation and wondering when oh Lord. In silent prayer a quiet voice says not yet. As rosy cheeks become scarred with laugh lines and wrinkles form. Youth gives way to age with white hairs replacing those of younger self. In silent prayer you ask when and a quiet voice says not yet. Then decades have gone and sorrow has been all but forgotten. Hopes have faded and still you quietly pray. Through mortal eyes life has passed by and hope is gone. At a moment appointed, when the world says it is not so, God arrives and says it is time. The fulfillment of a promise the completion of a journey. All things are fulfilled and all things are made new. Though time has passed in the worlds eyes, only a few eternal  seconds have gone by as you have been waiting on God.

Walking in a market place with cobble stone streets, I watch vendors set up their stands. I see all of the wares that they sell and I take in the scents and sounds of my surroundings. Some greet me good morning and offer me a bite or two of what they have to sell. I sample a little here and a little there, then move on with a polite good day. I listen to music being played by a street performer early in the day, I put a few dollars in his hat as I stop to watch him play. I move on to more sights and stop by a fountain to watch the water flow and children play. I absorb all of the things I have experienced and sample a life surreal.

The smell of fresh cut grass and the boys of summer have been a staple of America for generations. Popcorn, hot dogs and the seventh inning stretch defined a part of who we are. No longer does this enamor us, as editorial games of political intrigue have come to center stage. The 3/2 pitch has been replaced with the political sound bite. The crack of an Ash wood bat has been over taken by the sound of a judges gavel. We have gone from watching The Lazy Days of summer pass quietly, too political Carnage that we watch Daily. With the 24/7 news cycle, once Monumental Heroes only receive a few seconds in the day. Unless they're caught in a drunken stupor or have made an unwanted *** tape. innocence has been taken away, and the old Skipper with his hat pulled down has been replaced by teams of lawyer, that argue the will of the people to the ground. So will we ever return to a simpler time, or will we continue to drown in the political mire. When did America's innocent pass time, give way to this political nightmare?

To drink from his cup is to know perfect love. To drink from his cup, is to be part of his family. To drink from his cup, is to accept that he controls your destiny. To drink from his cup, is to share his suffering in pain. To drink from his cup, is to stand in his word. To drink from his cup, is to be crucified with the lord.

From birth, we fight to draw our breath. We are often put at a disadvantage from our first day. Not being born to privilege, most are forced to struggle for their daily bread. To those who go through the harshness of life, we are purified like precious metal inside a fire. It is this that gives rise to our strengths and makes us a success. Though many may never know our accomplishments, our greatness is in the legacy that we will leave. As we rise to life's challenges to let the world that just because we were forced to struggle, that we will not be held back from achieving our dreams.

Reaching into the gutters of life. Walking into the places others will not go. Pulling up people that others have left behind. This is a calling for all of those who would walk boldly. To withstand the fiery darts of the enemy. To become a light of hope. Having hands of mercy, by doing what others will not.

Oh rocking horse sitting beside my bed, where shall we journey today. With your wooden saddle a bright sunset Red and your golden reins in hand, I mount you and watch the world pass by as we thunder across sandy dunes and dash into the surf. Only to lead into the barren waste of the mighty desert and into an Oasis. Around and around we ride as you buck wildly as I try to tame your fierce nature, to the amusement and applause of a cheering crowd in a dusty rodeo. Each day is an adventure with you and a childhood dream come true.

I try to think through the haze of the things I have taken in. My mind seems to be a lot more clouded than usual. I can only see in tunnel vision. The things that are around me are a blur, I am not sure why that is. I try to focus on a simple thought, but I get distracted. I try to make sense of it all and retrace my steps to see where I started to lose my mind. I am not sure if this is self induced or something more sinister? I try to clear my head by long walks and not eating for a few days. I only end up lost and sick from not eating. I simply stumble back to my bed and try to quiet my mind. I think I need another fix to make the day go by. I am not sure what it will take for all of this drama to come to an end. I am not happy here anymore, I want to be me again.

Oh majestic beauty who's face launched a thousand ships. How magnificent your tragedy is. To flee from wrongful persecution the roaring of the crowd of your accusers. Into the arms of another and the fate of empires lies in the balance. To know that you are sought as a prize worthy of the avarice of kings. How you end as deception brings down a kingdom. Vengeful are thy pursuers in their lust. How their cries for blood haunt you and the hateful venom of their envy brings you low. Take heart, for history will judge you and perhaps remember you kindly. For you were not the architect of your undoing, but the fates did touch you from birth and put your beauty on a path from which you could not veer left or right, until the final judgment came upon those who coveted you and those who spurned you in the blood letting of violence that shattered many lives and taught lessons that few would be willing to learn.

I have fought many battles and I have not always been Victorious. My emotions have been shattered and my heart torn to shreds. Some of those I love have betrayed me and some enemies have saved me. Though I have been knocked down I've always gotten back up. Some wounds are deeper than others, but I have always found a way for them to heal. The scars that are upon me are not always visible, but I would not give them up for anything. Though you may not see a warrior, I promise you I am steadfast in my resolve. I do not know what challenge I will face tomorrow, but I am prepared to battle it all. My scars they do not Define me, they simply stand to remind me. When things seem to be their darkest, I will fight my way to the light. I will stand up for what I believe and I will continue to fight. I will wear my scars like a badge of honor and of them I will never be ashamed. The show others what I'm capable of and that if you are willing you can achieve great things.

You think that you got away with no pain. You believe that I am the only one who will cry. Though my heart is broken now, it is you who will some realize that you are wrong. For too long you took me for granite, now I will not be there to hold you up. It was my emotional support that strengthened you. You may think your new freedom is all you will ever need, but when you stumble and fall, I promise you will think of me. So revel in your small victory and the wounds that you inflicted on me. When you realize what you have lost, it will be too late and my hurt will be healing while yours is just getting started. I will then know my emotional freedom, while your world falls apart.

Cool wind blows through the tall golden blades of grass. The leaves of the summer are fading and the days light fades sooner. The need for a sweater and a blanket have come all too soon. Clouds are a little darker and more mysterious by the light of a harvest moon. I walk on my way as I notice that time has slowly passed. Summers days have gone and fall is on my path.

Flailing about hap hazardously, I writhe as I suffocate. I was swimming in my own pond until I was plucked from it. Now I am high and dry in an emotional waste land. A world where I do not know which direction the current is flowing. I cannot get my bearings so I am drying out and withering as I struggle to breathe. Flopping about I flounder as I work hard to get back into my emotional pond where it is nice and safe.

I sit down to eat a meal and I give thanks for what I have. That which I eat with family is simple, but for it I am glad. While others may not think that I have much, I have more than enough. I have all the things I need which is a family and their love. I see so many who languish and are in pain. I see so much need that in tears I sometimes have to turn away. I know that what I can do will never be enough. So as I sit to eat my daily bread, I thank heaven above. I have been able to do some little thing and I hope that will do. For in one instance tragedy could strike me too. So before you gripe and complain each morning when you get out of bed. Fall to your knees and thank God that he gives you your daily bread.

People decry inequality, but they fail to sit and realize that life does not discriminate. While people may be bias, life is not. Life can be equally cruel to the rich and the poor. Life can be ******* persons of color an on those who are white. Many scream about one group being privileged over another, but tragedy knows no lines. Money does not mitigate sorrow and life does not care about status. Death is the great equalizer, just as all will age. All these things are aspects of life that cannot be blamed as being biased, for life is color blind, it affects all of us equally.

I look out from a mountain top and let my sails unfurl. I rush forward and jump into the sky. On the invisible hand of the breath of the earth, I rise into the sky. The canvas billows into the wind and my soul soars. I feel the warmth of the sun as I draw closer to the edge of the heavens. The hue of light Blue turns into darker shades as I ascend on the invisible hand of the air. Turned this way and that in quick motions, I pull on the cords of my sails. The billowing silk forms a silhouette against sky as the sun reflects light off of silver clouds that form my new horizon.  For a few stolen moments, I have left the mortal constraints of the earth and risen to the highways where only Eagles dare to fly. As the distance fades and the wind lightens it's grip on me, I pull on my sails and let them take me softly earthward. As the forms of the earth begin to take shape, I feel a bit of emptiness. Part of my soul remains in the heavens and is caught by a strong breeze where for a moment, I was riding the wind where ever it would take me.

The cold salt air blows over the bow of the ship as majestic blue whales rise out of the water. Heaving through the waves and thundering down, they answer to no one in their strength. On the side of a mountain, a great eagle rises on a ledge, the sunlight glistening off of the birds majestic wings. Hanging from a rope quietly in hopes of seeing the glorious flight of the master of the winds. The bird raises itself up and dives off into the unseen current, with a scream that heralds it's coming, the bird sails off into the horizon. A Humming bird darts in and out of flowers in a colorful array as it's wings **** through the air keeping it afloat in what appears magically effortless flight. Moments of majesty and grandeur fill the eye and speak of life and paint a portrait of nature that is only a glimpse of the true natural beauty of our world.

The moment was unforgettable, the waiting came to an end. The words were surreal, time seemed to stop. My heart dropped and my eyes couldn't focus. A shiver ran through me from my toes to my ears. No sound could be heard as everything faded away. I hung on every word the day that the world went silent and he told me he loved me.

Melodies that elicit tears. Notes of sorrow from the keyboard of an old piano. In smoky bar rooms and dimly lit cocktail lounges, people with broken hearts come to drown their sorrows and listen to a crooner sing about their misery. A lonely lady or a sad gentleman will frequent the haunted halls of broken hearts. Listening to a melody played out a thousand times and waiting to be played a thousand more. The sad song of loneliness will play as they attempt to drink their sorrows away to this old familiar tune.

I bear my claws and tear into my lovers back. I writhe beneath the warm body that is entwined with mine. I wrestle with the forces of the flesh and cut into the flesh. I tear deeply listening to the satisfaction my lover gains, knowing that I am in both pleasure and pain. I hold fast as I reach passions height, I descend to the depths of wicked delight. My breast heave as I pull my lover tight. I want to be filled with all my might. I dig my claws in one last time. Like a feline on a scratching post, I sharpen my claws for one wild time.

I stepped out of bed and fell into the shower, I was in there only a few moments, but it felt more like an hour. I put on the coffee and microwaved my breakfast, the coffee was not hot enough and the French toast was burnt. I swallowed both down and shuffled out the door, I felt a sudden draft and realized I forgot my pants. I rushed back and danced back out the door. If I am lucky I will be at work before the boss hits the door. I get caught by every traffic light and even though I am on time, my boss gives me a ***** look as if I am way behind. I clock in and start the drudgery that I call a job. I labor under what feels like interrogation lights. It's only 1030 when I check the clock, I know that can't be right. I push through the paperwork and try to settle my mind, oh how I wish it was quitting time. Lunch time finally rolls around and I am still confused, I should have called in sick today, I have the Monday blues.

I strike the page with my pen but nothing will come out. I slash at the paper in rage and the ink spills over the page. I vent my anger in every line. I rage against the structure of the words I write. I cut and slash the language to pieces as I try to extricate what lies deep inside of me. My rage and anger fills the air as ideas cascade out but make no cohesive sense. I spill the blood of ancient poets as I try to master my craft. With each vain attempt I slaughter what might have been worthy of the old masters. I vent new age words as my pen becomes a sharpened knife. A slash here and a cut there until I have bled over my master piece only to find out that I am out of ink and cannot continue the blood letting until I refill my quill.

Cut the cloth of brotherhood and stich in your part. Open up your soul to mercy and let love fill your heart. Walk against the darkness and bear forth your light. Set right that which is wrong and teach others to do the same. Join with another to fill a want or need. Give a simple gift of hope and become a force for change. Set a foundation of giving upon which others can build. Plant seeds of joy in a barren and desolate field. Count each day a gift and take a moment of your time to help another in need, make this a part of your daily life, let this be your creed. Weave a legacy of which you can be proud. Leave an inheritance that is more precious than Gold. Create a story that will inspire others even when you are gone.

Right my ship and turn it's sails. Set the rudder on a true course. Look to the heavens and see the light that guides me. Over the horizon destiny calls. Onward upon the snowy caps of crashing waves. My ship gently rocks on the adversities of life. Knowing what is with in my heart and being true to myself, I set forth following my own star and no one else's. It is the light of  my dreams that guides me. To succeed or fail is mine to choose.

I took a pen and put it to paper. Then I looked at the blank page. I tried to will myself to write, but I did not have the words to say. Then in long deep thought, the pen began to move in my hand. All of the things that I had been feeling, that I had buried for so long. They lay scrawled out on the paper, every line was filled. I set my pen aside and let go of all my pain. I then signed the letter between the tear stains. It's simply said my apology and I addressed it to you oh God in hopes that you will understand.

Cut open with the knife of emotion, all that I am is exposed. You have wounded me deeply and I am not sure that time can mend the damage. I am not sure what I can do anymore, my inner most self has been put on display for all to see. I am no longer protected by my armor, I am empty and barren. Take a look at what you have done. See the grievous damage you have inflicted. For now, I will just hide in the shadows and hope that in time things will change.

A distance star calls to me and I follow it. Over the horizon I go, looking for the next place to rest. By the light of a pail dark sky filled with a thousand pin ****** in the veil of night I am guided on my quest. I do not know where adventure will take me or if I will find good fortune or failure. I only know that I must go. For to sit idly by and not take a chance, is to ensure failure, but to risk everything with absolute uncertainty is to have lived, even if I never succeed. So by the light of my star, I will venture forth. Holding only to hope that wonder will find me and that I will at least have good stories to tell.

Weary traveler who has suffered long, look up for redemption is near unto you. Oh wounded soul of the lost, take heart for soon healing will be found. Rest shall be given and comfort shall be yours. Hold on to the faithful journey and at the end you shall find recovery and peace.

From the first step into a rainy day through summers and winter snows. From making friends and suffering loss, we must be bold and show no fear. Though we will feel hurt and find wonder, we must embrace living life. Only once do we get to experience life, then it fades away. Our time is finite and it must be absorbed like the warm rays of the sun. When we choose to live life, a tapestry is built that leads us on a wonderful journey,which allows us the richness of self discovery and the ability to share a little part of ourselves with others. In this we create community and experience the human condition. So in this until our end live life for we never know what our legacy might be.

I see so many who take up the stage and sparkle like so many stars. Yet he did not want to be above others, he would be happy washing their feet. I see those who give gold and silver as they pass on. He had little but gave all of himself to those who had no hope. Each and every day we have the chance to walk in his footsteps. We have the chance to do little things with no hope of reward. Such small acts of kindness were part of who Jesus was, can we be like him?

In all of the world, that which we cannot see is the most disturbing. From our birth until we pass from this life, we are confronted with things that we cannot see. In all things we strive to find understanding, but seldom do we grasp the scope or gravity of what we cannot sense. It is in this that we define ourselves. It is in this that we are tested. For faith is not just something that we learn in a school or read in a book, it is the ideal that there is something greater than ourselves. Whether you believe in luck, divinity or predestinate events, you must grasp on to something. For to live with out any belief is to not have lived at all. Some believe in perfect love while others believe in their luck. All hold to something whether we will admit it or not, but in the end, faith is the core of our being for to have no faith is to forget hope and to cease to live. If all there is in life is to merely exist, then life has no point and death is preferable to the emptiness of living without faith in something.

Wrapped in satin and lace, covered in perfume. A vision of beauty so desirous. Walking across the floor in her flowing gown. A vision of a goddess that would turn any man to sin. She moves close and pulls you into her arms. She sighs as your hold her tight, you feel a ribbon tied at her back as she whispers into your ear that you can unwrap your gift if you like. Your heart beats and your mind goes blank as the lights go low. You are taken to places that not just anyone can go, with a special holiday delight.

Planting seeds of humanity into the hearts of those in need. Feeding the poor and the destitute. Remembering to reverence God who gives all good things. This is how I wish to be remembered. To have shown compassion and helped the stranger in the way. To have been a teacher and a friend. In all things humble and caring. This is the legacy I wish to leave.

I put seed into the ground and planted a few trees. I tended the space and watched the vegetables, trees and flowers grow. I then invited my neighbors to come join me. All were welcome, no matter where they were from . I let them pick what they needed and be on their way. While they were there, I saw them begin to talk. Each person spoke to another about many things. They all saw that they had problems in common. Each time they came, they grew a little closer and soon my garden became a place where community was formed and barriers were torn down. All of this was possible, because I took the time to plant a garden.

When a part of you is gone, but not forgotten and comforting words will not do, how do you find a way to reconcile the loss? In a moment, a person you thought would never leave is gone. Your world is shattered and ripped asunder. Your tears flow freely like rain on a spring day, you wrestle with the loss but can find no reasons with in yourself. You hold on to the memory of what was and try to remember the good, but it is often hard. No matter what the circumstance, a part of you has gone missing. In such a time of grief, when the foundation of your life is placed on shaky ground, how do you say goodbye?

Petals the color of midnight. Thorns that ***** and draw out blood. A fragrance that can hypnotize. Flowers planted in a barren garden where nothing else will grow. Dark Roses bloom in the light of a blood red moon, flowers fit for a widowed bride. No love can be found in these flowers for they were sewn in the hard ground by grief and death. They serve only to testify of mourning and sorrow at death and tragedy of a love lost too soon. So grow the Dark Roses, a reminder of the pain of loss.

I Am alive, I am living. Each moment I grasp onto if it were my last. I draw breathe to move forward. I relish every challenge. Though I may face insurmountable odds or the chance of certain death, I embrace the impossible with each fiber of my being. For though I may not see tomorrow, I will have lived each moment to the fullest. So that no matter what is to come I will know that for a few brief moments that I am alive.

Arms outstretched over islands, spread forth like a Lotus flower as it cradles it's people like a delicate beauty. Steeped in tradition and honor dating back beyond the memory of time. Feudal in nature and chaos until order is restored through discipline and a sense of duty. Multiplied in it's wisdom and filled with inner strength. The minds of it's people are quickened like the blade of a fine sword. Filled with ideas and creativity, it rises above many challenges with a willingness to sacrifice in order to serve the greater good of the whole. Such is the life of the Japanese, such is the way of Japan.

A hope in the unseen, a belief in the divine. Holding on to something that human understanding cannot define. Believing in the absolute power of a divine creator, this is my sword and my shield. Faith is the weapon that I choose to wield.

Open up the curtains, and let the light shine in. Grab a big wooden stake and just plunge it in. Tear open the chest of the beast and rip out it's black and still beating heart! Remove the defilement before it tears us apart. It only wants more and too much is never enough. It is a bloated blob that ***** in everything in sight. It prefers the darkness and cannot stand to see the light. It prefers smoke filled back rooms to the front where it can be seen. In truth it is quite a grotesque thing. So lets put it down and start from scratch. Lets **** the vampire called congress and bring something else back.

Who will remember me and what will they say about me? Will my family think kindly of me, or will they even care? Will any who I might have helped even think of me? Will those who I may have wronged come and forgive me? I know not how I shall fall, for as a mortal man I struggle each day. So I ask myself this poignant question, who will remember me?

I saw a stranger standing with a sign. It said please help me, and I drifted in my mind. To a night not so long ago, when I was down on my knees. I was lost and troubled and needed help you see. I met a soldier just the other day, he sat in a wheelchair right next to me. I thought of a time when I could not walk on my own. When I had to be carried because I could not do it alone. Then I saw another person lending a helping hand. I thought of the times that I had been that man. In all of these things, I could see a part of me. I could see the man I was, and that Jesus was always with me.

We strive to live on a path, but often we are diverted this way and that. What we thought we could achieve, is often sidetracked. Try as we might our human selves gets in our own way. Frailty, pain and our own mistakes happen to the best of us. Perseverance and sacrifice are not ingrained in us but must be learned. Through trial and error we figure things out. Some will learn faster than others and some will never get it right. Trying to figure out a path or goal that will work as planned is often impossible. All we as humans can do is move forward and hope to learn from the past missteps. This is the basic truth of life.