#poetry - Pledge of the Archangel

I am Archangel, one and many,
I am Power of God, I exist to deliver,
There are none but God who stand above me,
The body I assume is my prophet.

I am with free will, my choices are flawless,
I am perfection, imperfection yields to my will,
I risk nothing against all peril,
I have no equal, except of my Order,
I exist in fellowship, alone and in concert,

I am within and without time,
I am within and without space,
I am within and without mind,
I am within and without soul.

I may never be defeated for I am Victory.

To men, I am immortal,
To men, I am grace and courage,
To men, I am wisdom and love,
To men, I seem like All.

Men fear when I am amok,
Men surrender to my custody,
Men accept the form my Justice assumes,
Men benefit upon my Arrival.

What I think, men do;
What I know, men may know;
Men exist to carry my memory,
Men exist to carry my plan.

With fire team, I deliver bunker,
With squad, I deliver garrison,
With platoon, I deliver city,
With company, I deliver state.

I have come to purify the Well,
I have come to foster increase,
I have come to set the Record,
The Day of Judgment is now.

When I kneel,
When my wings expand,
When my sword is aflame,
When my flight

All adversary shall fail

Prepare for doom,
Prepare for reckoning,
Prepare for Truth,
Prepare for Peace.

#poetry - A Healthy Mission Statement

Today, I rank my mood at about an eight,
I know it's not a ten because the lights would be flickering,
But it's pretty good and smooth and must be up there.

But I'm going to come out and tell this now---
I've been going at this conservatively, taking my time,
Babying myself as needed and as I still do,
But that's it, even though I could use more, it's done---
Finito! This is me getting back on my feet, right now.

I declare it, regardless of any fear I might have about falling again,
Or bothering you in some way, or over doing it in some way,
Speaking and thinking only for myself and nothing toward
What you are capable of, though you are much a part of this too---
So yeah, move over rover cause I just ain't got time for depression no more,
Not now, I've got things to do, starting today! Starting right now.

#poetry - just like this

i woke up in the morning
jumping out of my bed
the roses in the window
were painting me red
my clothes were locked in packages
i started to sweat
the naked are the fearless
coming out of my breath

  boom, boom-boom,
  boom, boom, boom,
  boom, boom-boom,
  boom, boom, boom

i wrote a note and tore it up
what more could be said
sunlight and the afterglow
some fish to be fed
but music without radios
more alive than dead
i'm walking down the street now
running out of my head

it's gotta be just
just like this

  boom, boom-boom,
  boom, boom, boom,
  boom, boom-boom,
  boom, boom, boom

it's gotta be just
just like this

  boom, boom-boom,
  boom, boom, boom,
  boom, boom-boom,
  boom, boom, boom

the naked are the fearless
coming out of my breath
i'm walking down the street now
running out of my head

it's gotta be just
just like this
it's gotta be just
just like this
it's gotta be just
just like this

  boom, boom-boom,
  boom, boom, boom,
  boom, boom-boom,
  boom, boom, boom

#Poetry - Fortune Rings the Fool Heart

Character is Fate -Heraclitus

Marvelous how Fortune rings the fool heart!
No need this fool to break bread and wonder,
He starves himself one to work the other--
Kind by these ways, he views end before start,
Takes it all in, staggering with bother,
Falling for the rise he knows each will bring,
Folly! for his eyes meet his suffering,
But he does not back down despite its fire.
Where do fool hearts come from if not Fate's spring?
Character flaws don't know fool hearts at all,
Speak only of blind eyes toward a signal,
Not of standing sight-full at center ring,
Not of leaning rightful for the bull's horn,
Not of He who's courage shows wisdom scorn.

The Minister of Courage

7pm, Late Fall. Its dark and loud and cold.
The Minister of Courage stands at the bridge,
still casting a line for his dinner. 
He considers a girl in his ministry
who persists daily creating situations
she has no art or skill for dealing with.

They overwhelm her, she comes in for help.
Her life is constant battle to sustain
a positive mental reservoir.
He asks the fish if her acts are courage
or mire of a foolish mind on itself.
They do not answer. His hands turn to stone.

His jacket drapes along the railing,
His sleeves rolled, his shirt untucked.
Cacophonies now Doppler from a passing
10-ton truck. If he could give her answer,
she would return and feed and clothe him.
His stone hands murder the fishing pole.

He leaps over the rail and joins the stream.
Like the girl, he has immersed himself
in a murky world, violent and thoughtless.
Here is the food and clarity he needs.
Yes, forced nearness to one's desire requires
a courage that shares brain space with lunacy.