Blessed father, happy husband, proud Hoosier and unrepentant American. All poetry on this blog is my own unless otherwise noted. NOTE: My poetry may NOT be used by other individuals, corporations, or for AI purposes without express written permission.
My new audience
seems to be merely web bots,
not fans of my work...
When will my people wake up from their sleep,
and realize they must fight for their land?
That if we intend out birthright to keep,
cast off our innocence and make a stand?
When will we cast off all we have been taught,
the guilt caused by propaganda and lies,
and the greed that allows us to be bought,
or the foreign faith that has veiled our eyes?
Sweep away the ash that swirls at our feet!
Rebuilding new temples with ancient stone,
renewing old ways, no more obsolete,
reclaiming our destiny as our own…
Removing foreign banners from our skies,
We'll raise our own, and our people shall rise!
Cigar my incense,
and Whiskey my libation,
Bacchus would be pleased.
A Lararium
Humble, yet proudly displayed.
Between the bookshelves...
Morning birds singing,
In trees...on land that I own
While I drink coffee.
© Jeremy L. Heath, 2025. All rights reserved.
I will tell you this,
I regret fighting to work
during the lock downs.
© Jeremy L. Heath, 2025. All rights reserved.
Consider buying me a coffee, maybe?
Or two 😉
https://buymeacoffee.com/jeremylheath
Many thanks either way!
© Jeremy L. Heath, 2025. All rights reserved.
Shall a New Dawn Rise?
A darkness has fallen upon Europe,
like a rolling wave, the lights blinking out,
blanketing the once vibrant nights in black.
Excuses given, but the people doubt
that the Government’s words can be trusted
and its feared that they hide the real reason,
for if the people were allowed to know,
their leaders would be charged with High Treason…
It will never happen again, they say,
as they encourage people not to fear,
but the damage has been done: people see
but things are no longer as they appear.
Foreign agents are allowed to roam free
around the whole of Europe, no questions…
but when people ask what they are doing?
They are accused of racial suggestions.
Then those who should be investigating,
at the very least, the peoples concerns,
arrest instead the people born and raised
who dare voice a thought as their nation burns…
We know the real reason the lights went out,
and sadly, it isn’t incompetence.
No, it was Corruption, Greed, High treason,
and yes: Some good old fashioned negligence.
Those leaders lying to the world right now,
Did they join in the suffering, you think?
Do you doubt they had lights or warm water?
Were their wines not chilled and perfect to drink?
Were they not comfortable the whole while?
Their toilets still flushed, their food served on time?
safe and pampered while common folk weren’t,
yet, all funded by the working man’s dime.
But don’t worry folks! Nothing to see here!
We’re still in control! There’s nothing to fear!
They say it hoping the people will cheer,
but angry voices are filling their ears…
Perhaps Europe is waking up at last,
as the discomfort and the fury grows,
Perhaps they will even reclaim their land,
to work against the misdeeds of our foes.
That our lights should never blink out again
instead becoming a brilliant beacon,
that will lighten the path for our brethren
and the efforts of our foes be weakened.
A great poet once urged us all to rage,
to RAGE against the dying of the light,
and brothers, I tell you the time to rage
Is upon us now, for we stare down night!
© Jeremy L. Heath, 2025. All rights reserved.
I just want to live
In the middle of nowhere
but with internet.
© Jeremy L. Heath, 2025. All rights reserved.
Realization:
Ten years of my life
Wasted behind this damned desk
With nothing to show.
OOPS
“That’s an NPC”
My daughter tells me before
it turns and kills me.
© Jeremy L. Heath, 2025. All rights reserved.
A honk from the roof
Two geese staring down at me
hoping for some bread
© Jeremy L. Heath, 2025. All rights reserved.
Sometimes I lose hope in other people.
Listening to all the lies and deceit…
It is hard to believe in their futures
when they trample your hope beneath their feet.
Yet, I try so hard to cling to that hope
and that they are trying to get better,
that he will stop drinking and sober up
or she will stop meth, if we just let her
have another chance, she’ll do it this time!
In the end, I am not disappointed
so much as I am pulled into sorrow
for my hope means nothing next to their kids
being cheated of their own tomorrow,
being cheated of happy memories,
being cheated of family traditions
being cheated out of much more than these
for the list is infinite in the end
of what these parents so willingly steal
for fleeting moments of Euphoria,
chasing feelings that can never be real…
and for what these parents pay for their high
it doesn’t reach the cost their children pay
but it doesn’t help to point this fact out
they refuse to listen to what you say…
In the end, all of the hope I lose
in the neglectful immature parents
I place it instead with their poor children
with all the troubles they will inherit…
I hope that they rise above their parents’ ills,
that the curse of the insatiable thirst,
misses them, and they instead shun the ways
in which their parents have become immersed.
I try to pray for it in confidence,
knowing what the poor alternatives are.
I do what I can to reach through their fog,
but too often they have drifted too far…
© Jeremy L. Heath, 2025. All rights reserved.
A bit short of breath,
jitteriness and fatigue...
what is going on?
© Jeremy L. Heath, 2025. All rights reserved.
Ah, How curious,
Not too long after posting
I see: a Red Queen.
Knowledge is Power. Guard it well from Prying eyes Lest it be misused.
© Jeremy L. Heath, 2025. All rights reserved.
Patiently waiting,
a conduit of Power
for those who seek her.
© Jeremy L. Heath, 2025. All rights reserved.
Often, I feel like a small broken man,
Crawling on my belly through dirt and mud
in a world that would have me crawl lower
to satisfy some perverse sense of joy
that I should even dare to try to do
more than survive without permission.
As a young boy, a fire raged within
for the dreams and triumphs I was to have.
But that fire dimmed the older I grew
with the world pushing me down with its heel-
Now, my youth has fled from me like a dream
of which I remember small glimpses
and I can’t help but wonder what happened,
where did I go off the envisioned path
and let slip the dreams of fame and glory?
In the end, it is neither here nor there,
as it does no good to dwell on regret;
that regret of letting that fire snuff out.
As I struggle now, to provide a life-
not merely existence, but a real life-
to my Family, I can feel a ghost…
the ghost of the man that I meant to be.
Within me now a furious ember
glows bright and lashes out in its fury
to reignite that old forgotten flame
of pride and purpose that fueled the vision
of me standing firmly against the world
proudly resisting, not even to bow.
I greet it warmly, as a dear old friend,
I curse the crawling, and bring my knee up,
to push myself up, a firm thought in mind:
even if it is seen as a last stand,
then the world will still see me as standing.
Here is a Haiku Sequence that belongs to part of a longer work that is still in progress...Enjoy!
"Tolerance, in truth,
Pushes our society
To that fabled brink
That they call collapse,
And on that horrible day,
Men will become beasts.
Better we become
Werewolves now while there is time
To control the change.
Men to our kinfolk,
And beasts to our enemies,
That we may survive. "
© Jeremy L. Heath, 2025. All rights reserved.
Renewal
It don’t
come as a surprise much no more,
when I find out that I have lost a friend.
Not by disease, accident, or a war,
It's Ideology that brings the end.
At first, I tried to figure out the cause:
How did I offend them to this degree,
that they no longer wish to talk to me?
I had few
friends upon graduation,
but we’ve drifted apart over the time,
I accept those, though with some frustration,
and hold dear those memories from our prime…
but those who abruptly cast me aside
like a cheap shoe whose sole has given way.
I will admit that it struck at my pride
that they could drop me randomly one day
without second thought or pangs or regret,
and often without letting me know why
or how it was that I made them upset…
Just an end without even a goodbye.
Those who I must still deal with every day,
they just start giving me the cold shoulder,
icy disdain drips from all that they say,
just one day: Ice, that keeps growing colder…
I only found
out through second hand at best,
that the reason these relationships end
is the fire that burns within my breast
to preserve our nation, and this offends
to such a degree they hold me in spite
and dismiss every memory we’ve shared;
nor can they suffer me within their sight,
for it sends them into fits of despair
that a "fascist red hat" should be so near,
that I dare consider this nation mine,
or hold it and my countrymen so dear…
This, my brothers, is how I crossed their line.
It used to hurt, but
I don’t feel it now.
Their ice used to stab deep into my heart,
but I have learned to no longer allow
their foul betrayals to tear me apart.
Our friendships weren’t that important to them,
so thus: they shouldn’t mean that much to me.
I shrug them off to sing my people’s hymn:
to preserve our nation and keep her free.
In the end, they did not like me for me,
with such ease now viewing me with Hatred…
I forget them now, as will history
seeking instead to preserve what is sacred.
Preserving ideals of family and folk,
embracing only those who embrace me,
and taking upon ourselves the great yoke
of re-manifesting our destiny.
© Jeremy L. Heath, 2025. All rights reserved.
I believe firmly
Healthcare is a Human Right,
and this will not change.
© Jeremy L. Heath, 2025. All rights reserved.
The Sky has darkened
Businesses closing early-
Here comes a Doozy...
© Jeremy L. Heath, 2025. All rights reserved.
Oh, Canada! Our future sister state!
Your liberation is now drawing near,
as we rescue you from your current fate,
you are still our kin, and we hold you dear.
Though your leaders have worked to drain you dry
to stuff their pockets with your hard earned cash,
funding imports while letting your folk die,
then acting victims when faced with backlash…
Oh, dear Canada, you have been betrayed,
you’ve become foreigners in your own land!
Now is the time! Vengeance cannot be stayed!
Let the flames of Revolution be fanned!
Together, we shall ascend to great heights
if you just cast off that corrupted yolk!
Re-manifest your destiny and rights,
Cast out your traitors, and join your kinfolk…
© Jeremy L. Heath, 2025. All rights reserved.
Corruption and greed
Tore the little church apart-
Betrayed from within...
© Jeremy L. Heath, 2025. All rights reserved.
They say that there is a war raging on,
between artists and AI advocates:
AI making poems, pictures, and songs,
Which sends the artists into hissy fits.
I must say I am partial to writers,
for I do try to be one when I can,
between weekend shifts and the all-nighters,
but I do not support an AI ban.
I feel all AI work should bear a brand
and human work so marked as human made,
and should an artist lie, they should be banned,
from their chosen path in the artist trade.
If digital artists stay in their lane,
not once will they ever hear me complain.
Friends, back in '22, I wrote a poem Called Spanish Sunset after playing 1914 as España and seeing my beautiful empire ripped asunder.
Last year, I turned it into a song via AI, and I have to say, I absolutely love it.
If you do too, please let me know, and maybe share it with a friend!
When the Shepherd is away, Sheep will play,
and the wolf can move easily within,
and there, whisper his lies day after day,
until one day he is seen as a friend…
and some sheep will repeat his lies as fact,
and admonish those who dare question it.
For they claim instead that they feel attacked
and throw themselves into a hissy fit.
When others demand a Shepherd's return,
(For we’ve not been the same without one’s crook,)
the leadership shouts down all the concern,
pointing instead to their new holy book.
“We can not feed a new Shepherd!” one cries
which the new leader of the flock agrees,
"Do as I say! Do you not think me wise?
You elected me for choices like these!
If you want a new shepherd standing guard,
we must merge our flock with that other one!
Forget they neglected their pasture yard,
They won’t do it here! We won’t be undone!
And though they oft throw a fuss here and there,
with their un-sheeplike behavior its true,
You can trust my words, so do not despair!
we will become one, without much ado!"
Though these words were spoken from a sheep’s lips
to some who listened, the wolf could be heard
for leadership was well within his grips…
and the doom of our dear flock is assured.
I no longer feel a sheep of this flock,
even should a new shepherd come to lead.
With the wool from my eyes, I am forced walk,
from the backbiting, corruption, and greed.
So, now it is time to strike out alone:
a sheep no more, to find where I belong,
and in the wilderness, all on my own,
perhaps be transformed by that ancient song…
The end is near, as the men with signs say.
The writing is on the wall- crimson red!
The old for purging, and burning away,
Strip the ruins to the foundation bed…
While all that can be reused will be kept,
the broken, the rotted, shall be tossed out,
and all the decay that has slowly crept
into the shadows, the corners, the grout…
Shall be brought into the broad light of day,
to be exposed, and slotted for the purge.
The ruin thus scoured, on full display
the old fading for the new to emerge…
Sacred Blueprints by my own two hands drawn: A self-built temple for a self-made Dawn.
Beneath the boughs where the river flows,
he walks in whispers through the town.
By the fates decree, contempt like a shadow follows
but on his bowed head, his people’s crown.
Scarred and scorned, in youth untold
vengeance sought by his own hands
for righteous Justice, in a faith extolled
to right the wrongs on his stolen lands…
No, it was not greed that found him in that cave,
that curse that is their favorite sin…
No…It was his lands riches he wanted to save,
to buy back some land for the sake of his kin.
I made a deal with a devil today,
to pull me out of spiraling crash
and to keep the snarling wolves at bay
and it only cost me double the cash.
A short-term fix, water for the flames
or if you will, a hastily placed tourniquet,
but at a high interest all the same,
saving me today to pay tomorrow’s high debt.
The ones who could help me out
turn a blind eye, and cold shoulder
and thus condemn my family to this route.
Never has my own heart been colder…
For those who could, but choose to chide
for those who with such Christian like love
say this serves a good lesson to be applied,
their Christlike actions- or lack thereof,
Speak a gospel to me that I would never preach
to those struggling with hope just within reach
and give meager words as their salvation slips away
that all this will pass one day…oh one joyous day!
Down
Sinking
falling fast
not in water-
in high interest
and the merciless debt
that accompanies it.
I struggle in vain,
but overwhelmed,
I stumble,
and soon:
Fall….
I do not remember that first day
when I decided to put scotch in my coffee.
That first burst of dark roast burned with
the distilled spirits a decade strong.
I do not remember the first day
that I burned through a black label
in the evening after work,
just to melt it all away.
I do not remember the first day
when I got the shakes- too long without a swig,
the bite on my tongue giving me enough
venom to pick up where I left off.
If I could remember that first day
I would bargain like Faust
with whichever kindly deity who would listen
for the favor of redemption.
If I could remember that first day,
A word, spoken through time at just the right time,
to alter the crooked path
that I would find myself stumbling…
Oh, that I could remember,
but I can not summon the memory to save my life!
So why not another venom filled bite
to kill the desire to remember?
…but…If I could remember myself
who I was, and who I wanted to be,
then today would be the first day
that I empty my cup and face the thirst.
Ducks
Seven
Calm, floating
A mom and a dad,
Five little ducklings
Enjoying a nice day
Both the sky and water
A refreshing blue
Wind through the reeds,
Nature's song
Softly
Plays
I wake up
Shaking and sweating
Frantically scrambling until
I come to awareness.
I calm...
Just enough.
I dress, down some joe
And get the kids off to school,
The caffeine and fast pace
Hide my jitters...
Just enough....
I get to work, and right away
Find myself in another ridiculous talk
Not even worthy of an email
But somehow worthy of my life
I try to tune most of it out,
But if asked about it, I'll recall it
Just enough...
The phone vibrates
I know it's them.
I know I'm late,
and that they'll keep calling
Until I can pay them the minimum
Which is always so much.
I'll beg for an extension
They'll give me a few days
If I promise that I will actually pay them
Just enough...
After work, I go to the market.
Eggs, flour, milk.
Nothing fancy, just the basics.
We cant eat like kings,
But with my wife's skills, it will last...
Just enough
At the counter I see a sale:
Chocolates for the kids.
I feel bad, and want to get them some,
I double check my wallet...
Just enough.
Home, we relax a little,
The older kids play on their devices
The toddler throws his duck in the air
It doesn't fly too high,
Just enough.
My wife feeds everyone else first,
I feign not being hungry.
Everyone eats their fill,
So I see what's left...
Just enough.
The night settles in,
And the kids settle down.
We go to bed,
And after a kiss goodnight,
I pray to the Gods for blessing me with
Just enough.
