In the function of folly

In the function of folly

I gave up on myself today

The pain from my past

Just keeps eating my soul away

If I continue down this road

Diminishing returns are certain

Shall I follow the road made from the yellow brick?

And ask the man behind the curtain?

If you can no longer be inspired

Then you’ve ghosted your soul that is now pronounced dead

You must fight this egregious apathy

That runs deep within your weary head

The world is full of suffering

Mother Teresa once said

But it is also full of the overcoming of it

As this is the lesson that we must spread


When we self-reflect

The things we tell ourselves

Just may not be true

Distortions of our perception

Makes the sky gray and not blue

In our attempt to sway opinion

We may say things and try to deceive

The better we get at this

The better the chance is that they will believe

But it’s those little lies

When we self-reflect

That protect our egos

We are unwilling to inspect

If we lose our ability

To be truthful in how we act

Our credibility becomes weak

Breaking down the social contract


The State of being Penitent

If I pretend it didn’t happen

Then maybe I lead myself astray

I never change my behavior

Yet I expect these problems to simply fade away

If only I could do something?

That would result in a net gain

If only I can avoid this cycle?

That keeps me attached to the pain

How do I recognize?

How will I make a change?

If and when I take some action?

If and when my priorities I rearrange?

If our mistakes don’t catch up with us

As this is why we must forgive

The ones that do catch up

Are the ones that we are certain to relive

The state of being penitent

Is overcome by learning from the unforgiven

When the scars run deep

One then tends to become the driven


The Spiritual War

The evidence is abundant

Common sense must reign

To falsify the propaganda

Ask how do you know? …again and again

The spiritual war

Is at our door

Our logic must free

The minds that are under siege

Epistemology can bring us about

Those who spin the fallacious babble

Are the sophist’s who spew

The language you must unravel

Think on these things

When confronted with information we receive

Free speech is a mixed blessing

In our effort to reprieve

It is up to each person

To vet the ideas of the body politic

The choice will be yours

To champion your own yardstick


I have Anger I wear as my Totem

I have anger I wear as my totem

For the ignorance of my family

When reminded with an unforgiven shame

Why do I lament this with such voracity?

Why do old wounds hurt so much?

Awakening an inner child with unresolved propensities

Do I cling because of my rigid beliefs?

Can I ever outgrow this identity?

I have anger I wear as my totem

There are others who remind me of our idiocy

This takes me back to my childhood

Ahhh The old wounds from the family


The Truth Serum I have now taken

I see through the lens of a victim

I seldom take any responsibility

The truth serum I have now taken

Will last as long as I apply the scrutiny

I see through the lens of my arrogance

I put myself above any objectivity

I dispense with critical thinking

As this is what I can only see

I see through the lens of my ignorance

I have not fully investigated the facts

I cannot reach any definitive conclusion

I am limited to my own mental acts

I see through the lens of my maturity

I wander about in my limited view

If I make sense out of only these predicates

Without any experience what am I to do?