(“Creation Myth Merit Badge”, 2016, original oil)
Death Cult In Our Midst
There is a death cult in our midst
Some you can tell, many you can’t
Until they open their mouths
And out comes the hate for Life
And cheering on of Death.
Everywhere you look you can see the cult
Online, on TV, in movies and games
Where death and destruction
Is glorified and normalized
And you score points and win
When you kill.
The line between fantasy and reality
Thus blurred and/or erased
Leaves US where we are today
Broken and divided
Fearful and emboldened.
What does tomorrow bring?
More death
The cult dreams, whispers, chants and sings.
More death
Until only the pure remain.
(9/15/25)
O, but that the Master Poet would grant this rhyming couplet.
That we could bind the wounds of this broken heart
Wherein the beat of freedom and equality grows weak,
Enabling the meek, indeed to inherit what your love bestows
To all your children squabbling, silent, frightened, or benumbed
By prospect daunting or emboldened, lost among the ruin.
Children are resilient. And may we laugh again and play,
And build those castles, sand or stone, that time will surely wash asunder.
Still having made their purpose known to those whose matter waits
Upon that moving finger weaving time in writing what outlives the Fates.
Emboldened by whispers,
echoes curdled in algorithmic rot—
electronic voices hiss their sermons,
venom soaked in coded politeness,
dripping beneath polished avatars.
Hate seeps
through curated feeds,
a slow infection
wrapped in memes,
seducing the young,
the angry,
the aimless—
until ideology feels like identity.
A curriculum of fear
streamed without consent,
etched into abandoned timelines,
where education once should have stood.
Now, only digital ruins remain—
barren soil
where thought might have grown.
This isn’t chaos.
It’s code.
Written to polarize,
to radicalize,
to dehumanize.
They teach with silence,
they preach with fragments,
they baptize with blame.
Their design is surgical—
not to inform,
but to fester.
Not to question,
but to conquer.
To crown the cruel
and cast the rest as fuel.
vernal equinox
lemon-zested oracle ~
emboldened healer
And as the colored paper fades
Behind its dimly failed charades
We brace ourselves for long parades
Of silent tongues soft slashing blades
For silence has a hidden tone
The blue light hum of muted phone
Whispering, you are not alone
Seduced by nameless unseen crone
The etiquette of keyboard realm
Makes us believe they hold the helm
Control the cord that sounds the knell
A force we cannot overwhelm
And yet we give this silence pause
For deep within resides its cause
First, its hinted glint tinged the
Venetian Blinds like a timid child.
Slowly its emboldened gleam
permeated the obscure room
dispelling night’s cryptic rule.
Second, it beamed a brilliant column
of sun, glaring through blinds and
reflecting against the back wall.
Its gradual growing glow bled through
cracks and corners of the windows,
flooding the room with the brilliant blaze.
Finally, the dawn was declared as
the golden rapture hollowed out
the slightest shadows and took over.
Its light became the dominant force
defining the new day,
the absolute morning.
The unbearable grief he never wished for or imagined
made him a secluded man shunning all Humanity;
he clung to a feeble breath so void of each certainty,
telling himself he had to fight harder and be admired.
I saw him chasing clouds out of his bleary sky
with an urge stronger than desire, " Let no hope
be held from me, I deserve joy unlikely anybody."
What made change his mind staring at that rope?
How many bottles of rum he had stored in his hut?
Did the small paycheck he earned cover the hefty price?
At no vail, he tried to rob the local liquor store twice;
nobody bailed him out, prison brought despair not guilt.
He sits in the coldest room staring at the darkest sky,
who dares to shake his hand and lift him up to mollify
his confined spirit not emboldened by actual reality?
Help him overcome his dire loneliness and sobriety!
Went to the ROM last weekend
The Royal Ontario Museum
An absolute and total eye opener for sure
We, with our sophisticated smugness
With our feeling of superiority
Emboldened by today's amazing technological
Need to stop and take a look back
At the achievements of these artisans
From centuries gone by
Of generations with totally amazing skills
Without the aid of of today's modern technology
To help them in their endeavours
Just their hands and their inventive minds
The results of which were astounding
I stood there in awe
It was a totally mind blowing experience
Everyone needs to take a break and look back
It makes us realize what great achievements
The human mind has always been capable of
It was a jaw dropping experience!
And I let you fly like a nightingale,
Coward-less and emboldened.
I am your God and you are mine as
Silliness sounds into total surrender.
Every person's beauty shining
Like any morning glow.
Like your face always.
My love is made possible by your existence.
I bow down towards your every breathe. You,
The Savior I help save,
Saving you saving me,
Saving you saving me.
As I walked along the way
Beside the grand bay
I searched for million ways
Lest I should go astray
Lonely and cold
Breathless I stand before the hold
Where I was so bold
And almost got sold
The clouds herald their march
It took many to scratch
Upon the wooden birch
In sight of a search
For what lay beholden
Was not golden
But for many miles ridden
That made me emboldened
Now as I recall that day
There's nothing coming in the way
For it lies far away
...beyond my sway.
Blinking away the last vestiges of slumber,
the cub takes a few tentative steps,
her paws sinking into the soft,
loamy soil.
With each cautious movement,
she pauses,
her small nose twitching,
as she samples the myriad of scents,
that permeate the forest.
The world beyond the den,
is a wondrous tapestry of sights,
sounds, and sensations,
and the cub's dark eyes shine with a curious, innocent wonder.
Emboldened by the familiar surroundings,
the cub ventures a bit farther,
her gaze fixed on a butterfly that dances,
just out of reach.
She crouches low,
her hindquarters wiggling in anticipation,
before springing forward in a clumsy leap,
her paws kicking up a flurry of debris.
The butterfly evades her grasp,
but the cub's joyful grunts echo,
through the tranquil forest,
a scene to her unbridled enthusiasm.
As humid night turned into day,
my eyes I lifted to the gray
and what I saw gave me a turn.
Emboldened blaze of rising sun!
Clouds parted, scurried fast away
and left the dawn to seek its prey.
Tree leaves ashen and green grass scorched,
as if their essence had been torched.
Running, clawing to get inside.
"Have mercy on me, please," I cried.
Seeking shelter from horrid heat,
I quickly made a fast retreat.
As I shut my welcoming door,
the A/C came to raging roar.
I have to ask you
why you have not kissed me yet.
Your mouth tantalizes me.
I am a shy guy,
but now I feel emboldened
to taste your sweet honeyed lips.
Being told what to think
is presumptuous
being told what not to think
is insidious
for far too long
being told what not to think
has been the way of things
but now
being armed with knowledge
and emboldened with free thought
downside accepted
the internet has allowed us to think for ourselves
to question those thought edicts imposed from on high
not thinking about our origins
not thinking about the deniability of a divine creator
not thinking about the discoveries of science
is no longer possible for a thinking man
where to now I wonder.
Pastel shades of morning,
glow as dark wanes to light.
Colors brushed in the skies
in peach and lilac tones
as dawn begins to rise.
Pastel shades of morning,
are emboldened by noon.
Inflamed as if on fire,
shining ever brighter
as sunbeams fly higher.
Pastel shades of morning,
darken throughout the day.
Amber honey hue wends,
deepens as hours go by
before the sun descends.
Pastel shades of morning,
suddenly reappear
when sunlight starts to fade.
'Fore drowning in the sea
soft colors will cascade.
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