The Fall

Corruption and greed 

Tore the little church apart-

Betrayed from within...

  © Jeremy L. Heath, 2025. All rights reserved.

Sunday Haiku

We set the alarm

For a predawn gaming sesh 

My kids choose Minecraft.

  © Jeremy L. Heath, 2025. All rights reserved.

Sonnet on AI Art

 

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. 

Turned a poem into a song

 

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! 

A Sheepish Rebuke.

 

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…

Mishima

In the Emperor’s name, he forged a shield,
made of himself and other loyal men,
They railed against the whole corrupted world,
demanding the Emperor Rule again.
Briefly, so Briefly, he took the world stage,
and tried to rally ranks of listless Troops,
to depose the puppet democracy,
cast out the influence of foreign groups,
and lay down their lives, if the need should come
that the Emperor reclaim rule of land
to reclaim the honor and the glory
that belonged to the people of Japan.
But those poor souls stared, and refused to act
for they were brought up Democracy’s slaves.
Thus failing, he fell upon his own sword,
Honor intact, he stepped into his grave.
Had only the listless sprung to life then,
the flame of passion sparked within their hearts,
and then bore that flame throughout all Japan,
How the world would have awoke with a start!
How might the world have transformed from that point!
How many blessings Japan would receive!
How many more words would he have then penned,
if he had but roused those slaves from their sleep!
We may never know, for better or worse…
but we can always speculate and dream,
of the Emperor’s Shield as triumphant
and visions of a New Golden Dawn’s beam.

 

Hello!

If you are reading this, please know that I am happy that you have found my page among all the static noise on the internet!

I am always happy to read any criticism or thoughts on any of my writings. So who ever and where ever you are, please feel free to speak your piece! 

Sometimes I forget the Moon

Sometimes I forget the moon,

its bright silver light glowing,
the dark shadows and craters
disappearing then showing…
The stars themselves, they twinkle
and yet I will still forget,
their beauty and their patterns
and how the Gods have them set.
It’s not the clouds that blind me,
nor unfavorable skies:
I just misplace my focus,
and fail to lift up my eyes.
Sometimes, when I remember,
I will look up with a smile,
to see them, and to greet them,
and then admire them awhile.
For just then, in those moments,
a small blessing they bestow:
I forget it all but this:
Who I was so long ago…

Rebuild

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. 

Joe

 

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.