Sky of Hell
I look at the sky, eyes burning, wide,
Praying for mercy, praying for guide.
But the clouds spit fire, the winds conspire,
The weak fall silent, the vile climb higher.
The rich grow teeth, the poor bleed bone,
The honest scream, but scream alone.
I call to God, voice cracked, undone,
He answers in silence, or maybe in fun.
Does He not care? Or does He see,
How long we dance in the devil’s spree?
The crooked take crowns, the rightful kneel,
The world a blade with a poisoned steel.
I curse the sky, spit words of flame,
Yet something whispers, it’s part of the game.
A test, a trial, a cruel, dark hand,
To see how long we’ll bleed in this land.
But even as doubt claws at my mind,
Some quiet hope still stays behind.
For though His silence cuts me deep,
I trust His justice does not sleep.
Every person in the world, lives under one great big sky,
we are born to live, and we live to die.
It’s not what we have, but in what we have learned,
through the fires of life, we will get burned.
We build upon our own, earthly things,
in which each, contain there own hidden stings.
We do our best to live each day,
through the trials and stumbling blocks in our way.
The fires, are the words and actions of others you see,
a trial, a tribulation, a stumbling block they can be.
If their not ours, we could be theirs,
when we’re taken over by emotions, that has no cares.
With our own words, we speak both life and death,
as our very emotions, takes on our breath.
As they go into the ears of man, they come to life,
now, emotions in the heart, brings forth healing or strife.
As we all live under, the same positive, and negative sky, until our final breath,
some will learn how to truly live life, and never taste the sting of death .
The future hides behind a veil of mist,
Like stars submerged beneath a boundless sea,
I reach with trembling hands, yet only twist
In circles, chasing what I cannot see.
The road ahead, a labyrinth of stone,
Each turn a question left without reply,
The walls are tall, the corners stand alone,
The echoes of my footsteps wonder why.
Creator placed us in this world, a maze,
Where every step is both a loss and gain,
A puzzle carved by hands we cannot trace,
Whose answer lies beyond our earthly pain.
We walk through night, in search of dawn’s embrace,
Our purpose like a flame we barely hold,
Yet in the darkness, we are taught to chase
The warmth of something greater, something bold.
For every shadow speaks a silent word,
Each trial, a map to guide us through the strife,
We find ourselves not in what’s often heard,
But in the whispered breath of unseen life.
And maybe, at the end of this great quest,
When pieces fall in place beneath our hand,
We’ll find the One who set us on this test—
The puzzle solved, the answer gently stands.
In the world of code and creed,
Heart and mind, a dualistic seed.
Nights of work, days of strain,
Drafts, redone, again, and again.
Pixels blend with ancient thought,
Ideas clash, are born, are fought.
Screens aglow, a timeless quest,
Soul meets tech, in earnest zest.
Critics’ eyes, like hawks, they swoop,
Tearing at each hard-won loop.
Feedback sharp as blades, it feels,
Each word cut, pain that slowly heals.
Revision's pain, a constant guest,
Each change, a trial, a test.
Yet, in this forge, the spirit grows,
In digital depths, enlightenment flows.
The final push, a Herculean task,
In the glow of completion, at last, we bask.
Acceptance sweet, the journey's end,
In written words, soul and circuit blend.
A digital hymn, now fully sung,
From depths of strife, victory sprung.
The dissertation, new light, can’t hide,
Neural networks, where spirits reside.
Thus, the journey finds its close,
In digital spirituality, a new path rose.
Through agony, to ecstasy, then transformation,
A writer's trial, a scholar's jubilation.
Note: Dissertation Title: “Digital Spirituality”
Hey Sleepy Joe, America is broken
and your bigotry and hate smokin’
from the race fires you are stokin’
Hey Sleepy Joe, America is broken
and the woke that you have woken
are like toads in the swamp croakin’
Hey Sleepy Joe, America is broken
but the media are too busy cloakin’
and your addled fragile ego strokin’
Hey Sleepy Joe, America is broken
since Trump border policy revokin’
now kids in the Rio Grande soakin’
Hey Sleepy Joe, America is broken
yet Hunter was drinkin’ and cokin’
gettin’ richer off your name invokin’
Hey Sleepy Joe, America is broken
and her greatness must be spoken
but you are too stupid and oaken
Hey Sleepy Joe, America is broken
and a trial a martyr’s death evokin’
yet race and fear you keep pokin’
Hey Sleepy Joe, America is broken
and the Green New Deal is chokin’
so what the hell you must be jokin’
Hey Sleepy Joe, as it was foretoken
it is clear now America has spoken
that you are the one that’s broken!
Written: April 2021
Time in time
a trial a test
mindful and renewed
periodically in pain
grief, sorrow, hurt
lasting in seasons
a reason in the hope
prayers along the way
silence, sincere
suffering, sleepless nights
knowing that all will be alright
longtime ending
the beginning, never-ending
Faith was extended
healed, renewed, no more pain
a miracle happened in Jesus's name.
Egos aglow, from awesome heroes adorn
Each Legend has a trial, a secret born
It takes more than skill of a Champion to be
It takes equal parts of talent, guarantee
With luck, nerve, hard work made
Champions make the grade
Afterwards, Champions become Legends very soon
Being the best of anything in attune
The Champions are icons in Legends pond
They serve as a purpose beyond
A challenge, an incentive commit
To keep proving and proving it
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