War

Finally, be strong in the Lord and in his mighty power. Put on the full armor of God so that you can take your stand against the devil’s schemes. For our struggle is not against flesh and blood, but against the rulers, against the authorities, against the powers of this dark world and against the spiritual forces of evil in the heavenly realms.   Ephesians 6:10-12

all around the battle rages,

the enemy silently waits,

unseen, unknown,

beyond sight,

beyond touch;

beyond understanding;

slaves to all that we see,

all that we hear,

all that we feel;

yet we see nothing,

we hear nothing,

we feel nothing;

mirrors and smoking guns,

illusions and disappearing truths,

cheap parlor tricks played out

on morning talk shows,

here today,

gone tomorrow,

the war never ends;

the enemy never sleeps.

.

.

Indignity

around 4 am it finally comes,

it seems to take longer now,

slower,

deliberate,

more mindful,

this is how it is,

the way it was meant

to be;

recovery is never quite

the same;

I remember many things,

things no one knows,

things about which

no one cares,

hot summer nights,

stars shining in the sky

like newly discovered jewels,

fresh and clean,

your skin,

soft and warm,

your touch;

like a long lost friend;

the end draws closer,

not much longer now,

I am ready,

all the bags are packed,

I have been waiting

for such a very long time,

soon the indignity will stop,

the suffering fade;

soon enough,

soon enough;

a quiet, peaceful sanctuary

amidst the storm,

a final sleep

before the breaking dawn.

.

.

Suburbia

out in the fields

the slaughterhouse seems

so far away,

dreams still live,

the future open and free,

tomorrow certain and secure,

little do they know;

the cattle truck is on its way;

the circle is closing,

and you wonder,

is this the best there is?

or more importantly;

is this all there is?

as if it ever mattered

one way or the other,

yet still you wonder,

and you forget,

and you remember,

over and over again;

everything changes,

everything remains the same;

the days become harder,

movement nonexistent,

just a little farther,

only a little longer,

holding on with what

little there is,

living for letting go,

waiting for the last breath,

pretending it matters,

wishing it didn’t;

knowing it never will;

in central suburbia,

the waves wash quietly

upon forgotten shores,

nothing is ever what it seems,

no one is ever who they say,

looking down from sacred ground,

privileged and blessed,

safe and secure,

flags flying high,

apple pies cooling

on kitchen counters;

‘those’ people are ruining the country,

‘those’ people don’t belong here;

and all I ever wanted was You.

.

.

not much

it may not be much,

but it’s mine;

not some teacher’s,

not some mentor’s,

not someone else’s idea

of good or bad;

it is mine;

it tears them apart,

knowing they spent years,

learning all the rules,

all the techniques,

all the proper pronouns,

all the perfect suffixes,

paying all the dues,

establishing all the provenances,

only to find out,

it’s all bullshit;

it’s either there,

or it isn’t;

I have seen their lies,

their hypocrisy,

their almost truths,

I have bought into

their system,

I have accepted their penalty,

I have paid their price:

I am free.

.

.

now it begins

When he opened the seventh seal, there was silence in heaven for about half an hour.   Revelations 8:1

night does approach,

dreams do fade,

silence awaits,

time no more;

now it begins;

love fades,

hypocrisy rises,

iniquity abounds,

self-proclaimed children of light,

fingers of judgment,

objects of wrath,

calm,

cool,

arrogant;

no mourning,

no shame,

no remorse,

sitting as a queen;

in one day her plagues

will overtake her.

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.

Purity

“I would estimate that I actively participate in about 30% of the things I write. The rest of the time I just step aside and become a non-participating observer, a spectator standing in the crowd, wondering what comes next. It can be both exhilarating and frightening at the same time” – W.F. Rhoads (interview)

she has a genuinely gentle soul,

fresh and clean,

innocent and angelic,

a rare find,

in a world of trash-talking,

self-promoting,

self-righteous,

hypocrisy;

like an ancient dream

it haunts you,

waking you up

in the middle of the night,

transcending gender

or flesh,

thinking of the purity,

tasting the sweetness,

wondering about the

authenticity;

like a moth drawn

to the flickering flame,

unable to turn away,

fluttering closer and closer,

basking in the residual

glow.

.

.

Cost of Living

what is the cost of living?

sadness,

joy,

sorrow,

suffering,

pain,

hopelessness,

satisfaction,

fulfillment,

emptiness,

loneliness,

death;

decisions made,

consequences paid;

for every breath there is a cost;

evil in the name of righteousness,

hypocrisy in the form of light,

of such things are men made,

by such things do they fall,

standing fast on truths

they understand not,

blinded by sanctimonious testimony,

lost on roads leading to nowhere;

who shall pay the debt?

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.

Guinea Pig

In 1980 I was in the US Navy, stationed on the USS Tunny SSN 682, undergoing overhaul in the Pearl Harbor Naval Shipyard. On one of my duty days the shipyard workers started coming into the engine room wearing respirators and paper suits. They then began tearing out the lagging that surround the steam pipes in the engine room. I and the other nuclear power watch standers that day were never told to wear respirators or any other protective equipment. We spent an entire 24 hr duty day in that environment. The air was white with dust from the lagging that the shipyard workers were tearing off the steam pipes. Not once did a shipyard worker say a word to us although they looked at us strangely as they passed us in their respirators on their way in and out of the engine room. We even joked around about it among ourselves. A couple days after that day the 'nukes' in my duty section were all told to report to the dispensary at Pearl Harbor. When we got there we were taken into a room where a Navy doctor informed us that we had all received a severe asbestos exposure and we were being placed on a 'life long' monitor program with evaluations to be performed every 5 years. I had two exams before I got out of the Navy in 1989. I never pursued it after that and as a civilian the Navy had no power to make me continue in their 'life long' monitoring program. They didn't know as much about asbestos exposure in 1980 as they do today.

For the last several years I have been experiencing different health problems with my stomach and mucus build up in my throat, ears and lungs. The VA kept blowing it off and telling me it was GERD or LPR (Larnyx Phargeal Reflux) then raising my reflux medicine to the point where I am now taking 5 pills a day. In the meantime my health issues continued to worsen to the point where I have to take 1200 mg of guaifenesin twice a day just to be able to sleep and function without coughing uncontrollably. I started thinking about the asbestos exposure I received in the Navy and started doing some research. I found that many of the symptoms I have been experiencing are very similar to mesothelioma and other asbestos related diseases. These are diseases that very few doctors know how to diagnose because the symptoms mimic so many other diseases. The symptoms don't show up for 20 to 50 years after the exposure and even when they do most doctors don't attribute it to asbestos unless they are specialists in the field. I talked to the VA about my exposure and they have scheduled me for a CT scan on the 30th of September which is usually a starting point for diagnosing mesothelioma or asbestosis.

The survival rate for mesothelioma once symptoms begin showing up is about 12 months. There is no cure. I don't know what the results of the CT scan are going to reveal. I'm not afraid either way. I know God will take care of me either in this world or the world to come. I have tried to reach out to a couple people who stood duty with me that day on the Tunny but haven't had any luck locating them. I hope they are ok. I have tried a few ship crew websites and found a few people who were on the Tunny with me but none of the people who stood duty with me that day.

Am I angry? I'd be lying if I said no. I'm not angry that my life might not be as long as I think it should be. That is and always has been in God's hands. What I am angry about is I have been replaying the events that occurred and have come to the conclusion that we were used by the Navy. I'm not sure how else to explain the fact that within a couple days of the incident they already had a 'life long' monitoring program in place or how the Navy knew about it in the first place. When I was telling a VA nurse about it she couldn't believe that they let us spend the day in that environment. I looked at her and said  "it almost feels like an experiment doesn't it?" She just nodded her head and went back to writing in my chart.

Through it All

Jesus answered, “I am the way and the truth and the life. No one comes to the Father except through me. If you really know me, you will know my Father as well. From now on, you do know him and have seen him.”   John 14:6-7

I have been on both sides of the fence,

I have been everywhere in-between;

physically,

emotionally,

spiritually,

financially;

I have worked for hundreds

of thousands of dollars,

I have worked for minimum wage,

I have tasted a life of privilege,

I have known the hopelessness

of poverty;

I have witnessed first hand,

the devastation of losing

everything;

I have worked at a desk,

using only my mind and fingers,

I have worked back-breaking jobs

that no one should have to do;

I have seen people at their best,

I have seen people at their worst;

I have entered dark places from

which very few survive,

I have stood on the edge

as the god of this world,

quietly whispered in my ear;

“just one more step;”

I have seen demons,

dark and evil,

drive past in a car,

as I rode a bike

down the road;

laughing,

mocking;

I have talked with an angel,

her name was Vena,

she held my hand

as I lay in a hospital bed

having a heart attack;

I have seen people destroyed

by the very things from which

I was saved;

through it all,

You have been there

for as long as I can

remember,

quietly watching,

softly calling,

patiently waiting,

through it all You have

lifted me up when I could not

stand on my own,

saving me when no one

else could,

protecting me when no one

else would,

through it all You have

given me an education

that no college could provide,

no amount of money

could buy,

teaching me humility

and compassion,

helping me to stand,

allowing me to fall,

showing me the illusion

surrounding this world,

the lies that trap so many

who do not even know

they are trapped;

no one makes it out of this life

without You,

no one comes to the Father

but though You.

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Where Now America?

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The Ballad of Rico and Annabelle

Rico is dying,

every day he tells his friends

he is getting better,

every day he grows worse;

he has been to places,

no one should be,

he has seen things,

no one should see;

Annabelle lives alone,

she sits in her box like Greta Garbo,

isolated and alone,

dusted and sheik,

no reason for living,

no reason for dying,

traveling into the hidden night,

without a thought or care;

Rico is in love with Annabelle,

he has loved her for as long as he can remember,

everyday he sees her pass by,

everyday he remains quiet,

everyday he stares passively into the sky,

unconcerned,

uninterested,

that is the way of love;

it is best left unsaid;

Annabelle has waited all her life,

she holds Rico in her arms,

she sees him in her dreams,

she kisses his lips,

she caresses his face,

they make love in her mind;

life begins,

life ends,

this is the way of things,

there’s never enough time;

farewell my friends.

.

.

Imperfection

When Simon Peter saw this, he fell at Jesus’ knees and said, “Go away from me, Lord; I am a sinful man!” For he and all his companions were astonished at the catch of fish they had taken, and so were James and John, the sons of Zebedee, Simon’s partners. Then Jesus said to Simon, “Don’t be afraid; from now on you will catch men.” So they pulled their boats up on shore, left everything and followed him.   Luke 5:8-11

Ignoring what they said, Jesus told the synagogue ruler, “Don’t be afraid; just believe.”   Mark 5:36

my soul has tasted madness,

my soul lies dying in the dust,

choking on the excess,

drowning in the lust,

caught up in the illusion,

dried up,

empty,

no where left to turn,

no where left to run,

guilty as charged;

once again You

raise me from the depths,

once again You

wrap me in Your love,

Your righteousness and glory

more than my filth ridden flesh

can bear,

Your perfection

overwhelming the imperfection

of all that I am;

Go away from me, Lord; I am a sinful man!

once again You quietly whisper;

Don’t be afraid; just believe;

my God,

my King,

my Everything.

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.

The Way of Truth

lost in this sea of darkness,

sentenced to die from the day we are born,

guilty as charged, eternally separated,

forever gone;

the dreams of men are like birds on the wind,

shifting and rearranging,

living and dying,

here today,

gone tomorrow;

there are many roads in life,

leading to far-away, unknown destinations,

creating their own specific brand of justification,

finding their own particular version of truth,

but no matter how many truths we create,

no matter how many different ways we want to believe;

there is only one truth,

there is only one way,

there is only one road;

it does not bend to fit our ideas or desires,

it does not go in the direction we demand it to go,

it is final,

it is absolute;

that is how truth works;

today I stop living the dreams of men,

today I begin living the truth of God,

fill me with hope and joy,

remove this sadness and despair,

show me how to love as You loved us,

teach me how to live as You lived for us;

enter through the narrow gate,

for wide is the gate and broad is the road

that leads to destruction,

and many enter through it,

but small is the gate and narrow the road

that leads to life,

and only a few find it.

.

.

Hawaiian Nights

riding thru the starlit night,

cruising on this Harley Davidson killer machine,

black and sleek,

like a giant panther seeking its prey;

he is the king;

hanging on tight,

becoming one with the man,

becoming one with the road and stars,

her soul is his soul,

their soul is the hammer of pistons and gears;

she is the queen;

king and queen of darkness,

of heaven, hell and earth,

the ocean surf pounds the rocky beach,

the sweet smelling smoke fills their minds,

sea and land come together,

their world is that of endless time,

swirling, whirling tides of pleasure,

changing shades of darkness and light,

shifting, blowing desert sands.

.

.

Things Aren't Always What They Seem

I knew this dancer once,

she used to strip down on Waikiki,

at this topless place on Kalakaua avenue,

her name was Lisa,

half Filipino, half Chinese,

a very nice mix,

she had a great body,

nice tits, fantastic ass,

I used to get ripped and

hang around and wait for her after the show,

I was riding a Harley then,

79 lowrider,

black with lots of chrome,

I loved that damn machine,

we’d ride off into the Hawaiian night,

cruise around the island

until the morning sun came up,

stopping every now and then

on an empty beach,

taking a hit of coke (she always had the best coke)

run our tongues down each others throats,

she’d take me in her mouth,

with the waves washing up on the beach,

I never understood why

she would never let me do anything to her

besides play with those fantastic tits,

but when you’re about to cum

in the mouth of a beautiful stripper,

on an isolated Hawaiian beach,

with the stars overhead,

after snorting great coke;

you don’t ask questions;

it was a nice arrangement,

very nice indeed,

then I had to go and ask her out,

on a real date,

you know,

dinner, dancing, respectable stuff,

it was too much for her,

she said it was the nicest thing

anybody had ever done;

she started crying,

said she wanted me to know something first,

seeing as how we were about to be

a real boyfriend and girlfriend,

she said things weren’t exactly as they seemed,

she explained about hormones and an operation,

and how it felt being trapped until

gradually it sunk in;

Lisa and I never did have that date;

but you know what,

just between you and me,

I wish I had never asked her in the first place,

because if I hadn’t,

she never would have felt the need

to tell me about her big secret,

and we could have kept on

riding around the island after her shows,

but what really pisses me off

in spite of it all,

if I’m really honest with myself,

which I’m usually not

when it comes to this subject;

she gave the best damn head

I ever had.

.

.

This Place

every day I leave this place with

an incredible, overwhelming sadness,

this place is sucking the life out of

me;

I feel the fear,

I sense the hopelessness,

I understand the grief,

I know the despair;

it is almost more than

I can bear;

I am part of everyone,

I am part of no one,

I am part of everything,

I am part of nothing;

it has been a long education,

but now the end approaches,

I am done with the false hopes,

I am done with the fantasies,

this world has nothing left

to offer;

You have showed me truths,

that no one else could,

You have taken me places

where very few have been,

I no longer have the strength

to fight the manipulators,

the users,

the phonies,

the fakes,

the self-righteous,

the hypocrites;

they have their reward,

they have their world;

this place belongs to them.

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.

Tsunami

in a dream,

I saw the water rising,

I felt it’s power,

ripping and pulling,

breaking and destroying,

smashing and killing;

swallowing everything in its path;

I awoke,

gasping for breath,

overwhelmed by the sheer

magnitude of it all,

terrified by the raw power,

overcome by the suffering,

you awoke and asked me

what was the matter,

bad dream I replied,

“when?” you asked;

“soon”, I replied.

.

.

This Dream

the moments come and go,

just a different twist,

a fairer fate,

another turn,

a better choice,

life and death,

darkness or light,

nothing and everything,

something else;

we come so close;

83 dead,

the silence shattered

as the gunman reloads,

Louisville in mourning,

there are things never

forgotten;

who is to say?

who is to know?

does it never end?

the sun rises,

a new day’s heat begins,

suffocating and choking,

flesh melting like

yesterday’s butter,

chard and putrid,

fresh rubber sizzling

like bacon in grease

on the soft asphalt surface,

one more on the road,

out of the frying pan

and into the fire;

another one tastes the dust;

take it away,

let it be no more,

bring about an end,

take it from my eyes,

take it from my mind,

this whisper,

this hush;

this dream.

.

.

A Midday Dream

on a bright blue morning,

I saw the end,

as the city went up

in flames,

you turned to me

with panic in your eyes,

screaming why?! why?!,

I said we must not

cry,

so when it is all over

we can face the truth,

and say

we remained

human beings;

…..be still

my tired

beating

savage

heart,

your day of rest

will come

all to soon.

.

.

sometimes now

“tell me Gilbarto,”

she whispered in my ear

on a warm sunny morning,

as we lay together,

her body resting

softly in my arms,

“what is the price to be paid,

for simple existence,

in a world

that demands more?”

“so much more;”

we both knew our time

had almost passed,

as all time passes

in a world ruled by time,

but still we clung to one another,

hoping silently inside,

that maybe,

just maybe,

this would be the one

that would not pass,

even though we both knew

it would;

I thought on her question,

and decided there was no answer,

that it was as open ended

as the tomorrow

we both would face,

I thought of my life,

where it had been,

where it was going,

what it had learned,

and came to the conclusion

that it too

had no answers,

a mass of swirling contradictions,

neither beginning or ending,

drifting like the current

with no known destination;

I thought of His life,

so perfect and pure,

His words,

so simple,

yet so strong,

sharp crystal truth,

far beyond the boundaries

of our limited human comprehension;

He is the king

of us all;

I pulled her closer,

stroked her hair with my hand,

tomorrow she would board a bus,

and her and I

would be no more,

but today

we were one,

even if it was just a moment;

sometimes now

has to do,

in a world where tomorrow

never comes.

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The Face of True Evil/Prepare Yourself

Then shall they deliver you up to be afflicted, and shall kill you: and ye shall be hated of all nations for my name's sake. And then shall many be offended, and shall betray one another, and shall hate one another. And many false prophets shall rise, and shall deceive many. And because iniquity shall abound, the love of many shall wax cold. But he that shall endure unto the end, the same shall be saved.   Matthew 24:9-13

I tell you, he will see that they get justice, and quickly. However, when the Son of Man comes, will he find faith on the earth?”   Luke 18:8

true evil has no face,

it shifts and moves,

swaying back and forth,

like grains of desert sand

in a gently blowing wind,

quietly infiltrating its way

into minds and souls, in high

and mighty places,

enticing, alluring;

irresistible;

the ultimate chameleon,

making changes so subtle

they are barely perceptible;

deception in the name

of innocence;

taking shape without

worry or care,

then disappearing like magic,

into the thin night air;

yes,

true evil has no face,

it goes by many names;

eminent domain,

manifest destiny,

for god and country,

true religion,

the chosen race,

national pride,

the final solution,

genocide;

to name a few;

and when it has come and gone,

none but a few even realize

it has passed their way

at all;

the time is coming,

when everything you think

you know,

everything you believe

to be true will be

challenged,

turned upside down;

the world,

technology,

science,

reality,

your eyes,

your ears,

even your very mind,

will tell you that

what you believe cannot

possibly be true,

deceiving even the elect,

if that were possible;

will you still have faith?

what is right will be wrong,

what is up will be down,

what is righteous will be evil;

when they torture and kill,

they’ll believe they are

doing God’s work;

“prepare yourself” sayeth the Lord.

.

.

Next

“Lord, if it’s you,” Peter replied, “tell me to come to you on the water.” “Come,” he said. Then Peter got down out of the boat, walked on the water and came toward Jesus. But when he saw the wind, he was afraid and, beginning to sink, cried out, “Lord, save me!” Immediately Jesus reached out his hand and caught him. “You of little faith,” he said, “why did you doubt?” And when they climbed into the boat, the wind died down. Then those who were in the boat worshiped him, saying, “Truly you are the Son of God.”   Matthew 14:28-33

one more lesson,

one more obstacle,

one more weakness,

one more time, I begin

to sink below the surface;

once again, You grasp

my hand,

once again, You pull

me from the depths,

once again, You teach me

to overcome,

once again, Your power sets

me free;

the world continues on,

wars and rumors of wars,

death and destruction,

joy and laughter,

greed and self-satisfaction,

vanity and pride;

none of that matters now,

the flesh slowly dies,

only a fading mist,

a disappearing shadow,

I am finished with it all,

there is nothing more

I need,

there is nothing more

I want,

all that matters now is

what comes next,

all that matters now,

is You.

.

.

In The End

Jesus looked directly at them and asked, “Then what is the meaning of that which is written: ‘The stone the builders rejected has become the capstone’? Everyone who falls on that stone will be broken to pieces, but he on whom it falls will be crushed.”  Luke 20:17-18

when I was 18, I was the real deal,

the high school, jock, superstar,

the golden boy

with the golden touch,

class president,

everything to everyone;

it was an image

I spent most of my adolescent years

perfecting;

I could have married the hometown girl,

bought a house in my parents neighborhood,

spent the next 30 or 40 years

making a comfortable living,

gathering after work at the local bar

with all the other hometown boys,

living off old press clippings

and exaggerated sexual conquests,

collecting interest on Friday night touchdowns

and Saturday morning hangovers;

instead I did everything I could

to kill who and what I was;

I wandered,

I searched,

I smoked,

I drank,

I snorted,

I embarrassed,

I lied,

I deceived,

I failed;

I burned every bridge,

I slept with whores,

I broke man-made laws

and spiritual taboos,

I sinned against man,

I sinned against God;

but in the end,

I was still here,

stuck in the same skin,

unable to escape,

unable to change,

unable to be anything

but what I was,

trapped by the truth

living inside;

in the end,

I became exactly

what I was destined to be,

and You were still there;

knocking,

whispering,

waiting;

in the end,

You put Your arms around me,

quietly whispering:

“Don’t be afraid, just believe”

forgiving the beatings,

forgiving the humiliation,

forgiving the suffering,

forgiving the pain,

forgiving the torture,

forgiving the isolation,

endured by You,

for the evil committed by me;

in the end,

You forgave the sins

of a world not worthy

to kiss the dust beneath Your feet;

in the end,

You shined Your light before me

and my eyes were blind no more;

in the end,

I will stand before the throne of Your glory

and the joy shall be forever.

.

.

Inflexibility

truth is not always the answer,

some things are better left unsaid,

otherwise,

it is just too painful;

yet,

somehow we made it

to this land of middle age,

do you think it was the result of experience?

or simply an unfortunate side effect of

circumstance?

in the end,

we will slide away

like ghosts in the night,

with only faded memories

to light the way

and who will be the wiser?

you?

me?

I think not;

inflexibility,

is sometimes a blessing in disguise,

when faced with rigid decisions,

which call out with lascivious options,

somewhere in the middle

of this inept comedy.

.

.

New Hope

walking around this place,

I feel the words stirring within,

as the late afternoon dusk begins to ascend;

a sign in front of a coffee/snack bar announces,

‘Exotic Drinks Inside’ and I quietly wonder if this means

they will strip for dollar bills,

I see tomato pies on bridge street and fight the temptation

to go inside and ask for a polite junkie,

inside new gypsies, there is a warning sign informing patrons

they do not cater to practitioners of  black magick;

only good witches live here;

my wife points out an American flag,

with an image of Morrison in the middle,

I start go in to ask about the price,

but then decide not too,

somehow I don’t think he’d approve of the

commercialism of it all,

but then who knows,

if he were alive today,

perhaps he’d be doing ads for american express,

and singing light my fire in Las Vegas for a

cavalcade of golden oldies extravaganza;

old age and money

have a way of doing those things;

then the thought occurs,

don’t you think he knew that?

isn’t that why in the end,

he chose death over selling out;

later, inside a little strip mall,

bodily functions call out,

only to find out it will cost me a quarter, so

I pay the lady guarding the door,

then proceed to take a thirty minute dump,

I smile at the guard lady on the way out

as she angrily glares back;

it was the best damn quarter

I ever spent.

.

.

The Cost of Admission

I gave in,

most do,

choosing life

over living,

walking down

lighted streets,

instead of dark,

wooden corridors;

I have seen

the two penny circus,

I have heard

the heavenly music

of gods

and beggars,

I know

the secrets

of ancient poets

and scholarly sages;

the hour grows weary,

it does not wait,

nor does it give,

it does not seek,

nor does it receive;

choices made,

knowledge discovered,

the final destination,

and in the end,

it is not ours

to choose,

it is not ours

to lose,

player or spectator,

the price remains the same;

it is only for us

to pay the cost

of admission.

.

.