Yes death was an awakening
We did not realize we carried it with us
Until our smiles were wiped clean
And the laughter had stopped
It did not take long.
Vietnam was life game changer
We had been thrust into jungles
As GI Joe’s, ready to kick some butt
Instead, we were the ones being kicked.
As trigger explosions were going off and our friends were dying
We realized that death was waking us up
Begging for our full attention which we gave
For there is nothing like the horrors of war
To shake an eighteen-year-old out of his cocoon of innocence
To take his invincible attitude and twist it behind his back.
War is hell and death is the rude awakener
The creed of the gang
Blood in, blood out.
Identity
Attention
Insecurity
Acceptance
Significance
All gifted at the place of blood.
Slash a face
Forget any grace
Stab an enemy
A day in infamy
At the gang’s entrance
A deceiving sentence.
Only way out
Prove you can fight
Kick some butt
Spill more blood
Roll the dice
Pay the price.
The gang demanded the same cost
Blood to spill from His cross
The same blood to bring them in
In exchange for the gang’s sin
Opportunity to be bought out
Of darkness into the light.
The creed of the Godhead
Blood in, blood out.
the creed of gang life is that you have to spill blood to get in, and
the only way out is to spill more blood; even your own by death !.
So they cried out again, “Crucify Him!” Then Pilate said to them,
“Why, what evil has He done?” But they cried out all the more,
“Crucify Him!” So Pilate, wanting to gratify the crowd,
released Barabbas to them; and he delivered Jesus, after he had scourged Him,
to be crucified. (Mark 15:13-15 NKJV)…blood bought us into His Kingdom,
and takes us out of “the gang” !.
The Sonnet Man really needs a side kick,
But not a side kick that wants to fight crime.
I need one to come in at the right time,
And shatter things like a very wide brick.
Just like a witch, who knows how to ride sticks,
I need a chick who knows how to write slime,
Not expecting to get paid a bright dime,
Like someone who wants to be my pride pick.
I need a side kick who can kick some butt,
Or at least can kick up a little ink.
One who is not afraid, no matter what,
Of what anyone could possibly think.
One with words that will hit you in the gut,
Before you are even able to blink.
sunny and warm
clouds invade
rain starts to fall
it pours
thunder cracks
broken branches tap against the glass
the noise is so irritating
it makes want to kick some......butt?
is this a suckish rhyme or what?
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