Wilders Haiku

I watched the debate.

Wilders trounced his opponent.

Spring comes to the West!

Nightly

Tonight I bow my head and pray,
To thank the lord for this passed day,
And to ask him if he'd let me borrow
Another day, and another tomorrow.
          I go to sleep now, with no fear
          For all is in his hands from here...

A Song of Isolation

The moon is up high
On the flag in the sky,

     But the masses still move around blindly.

They still speak of peace

As the bodies increase,

     All their words are molded kindly.

They narrow their eyes

At the ones who despise

     The moon that now casts us in shadow.

But what they ignore

Is what the flag stands for,

     Their ignorance endangers tomorrow.

Will Wilders succeed?

Or will the Dutch greed

     For correctness drown out the warning?

In sorrow I know

Which way they will go

     For all politicians love their whoring!

Will we answer the call,

Or will Europe fall?

     Right now, we watch without voicing

The horrors we know

Will continue to grow

     As monsters destroy with great rejoicing!

We fought several times

And lost so many lives

     To return to them their freedoms.

But now they ignore

The beasts at the door

     Who want nothing more than to kill them!

And here we will sit

While trying to forget,

     What now has befallen our allies.

Knowing they’ll come for us next,

As we sit all perplexed,

     Can new sight be given to blind eyes? 

The Flickering Flame

I looked deep within the flickering flame,

Watching the orange and red dance, leap and lick

Heating the bars of the cold metal frame,

Devouring the leaves and broken sticks.

Its flames, like fingers trying to reach high

To gather more things that could be consumed

Meeting only the darkness of the sky

And the stares of three as it popped and fumed.

Thinking of the next day, I sat awake.

My heavy eyes had already grown red

And I knew that I should very soon take

Leave from my friends, and find myself a bed.

But, not moving, I continued to slouch

Staring intently at our glowing torch

From the gentle comfort of that old couch

As shadows danced around us on the porch.

Snow

Do you see the beauty that the snow holds?
Note how it gracefully floats from the sky
And covers all of the earth in a cold
Blanket of the purest sparkling white.
Mark the shrieks and shouts of unbridled glee
From the hearts of excited children
Who looked out their bedroom windows to see
Their dreams come true in the mounds that glisten
Gold in the bright morning sun. With such joy
I used to greet the snow when I was young!
How happier I was as a small boy!
I envy the joy I see in my son,
What he feels and I have long past felt,
Not knowing that it is destined to melt. 

A poor Poet's Request

If I should die upon this day, 

and my soul to Heaven should flee,
cast my mortal shell away,
and think nothing more of me. 

I’ve not a dime left to my name.
My accounts have all gone bare.
So, my love, if it’s all the same,
find a hole and bury me there. 

I’ve no works that I have written,
no songs that children may sing
no hearts or souls have I smitten.
No, I’ve not accomplished a thing.

The things of which I’m proud of
are the children that we have raised,
our lives filled with laughter and love
up to this fading day.

So dump my body in the woods,
and keep what little you own.
Spare the money for needed goods,
and leave my soul to go it alone.

County Road 400

A sunny blue day, now drowning in red.
A blazer with evil steering the wheel
Does the deed, and leaves the poor man for dead,
The very thought in my mind seems unreal.
A bright young future, now shrouded in black
Lays sprawled out upon the cooling black-top.
Dreams of the future shattered by impact
By the careless driver that wouldn’t stop.
As jagged steel tore through once solid leg
Shredding the flesh into ghastly meat strips,
To what proud saint did he turn to and beg?
What desperate prayer rolled off of his lips?
          What is it they found that steeled up their mind
          And against him all of heaven aligned,
          Refusing to put that day in rewind?

And what wicked saint protected that ghoul
That could leave a man lying in the road?
How could he be favored by sacred rule
And reside in our savior’s abode?
There’s a man whose joys were simple and few
Who is now floating between life and death,
With afterlife glowing well within view,
Should he as well choose to forsake himself.
As emergency crews rush to the scene,
Attempting to keep a beat in the heart,
The young man gasps air, and gurgles a scream.
The crews continue to practice their art.
          In agonies grasp, he just wants to die.
          With so much pain, all he can do is cry,
          And quietly ask the silent Lord: ‘Why?’