Zero Zero Zero

They used me to draw them in the Nebula
They often joked, just like Mutara
This heated battle within the eagle's eye
We finally fought the enemy down
But they’re not gone.
We are intruded, through and upon
Fighting hand-to-hand
Blood splatters and stains my walls
Through it all, I’m told we won.
DESTRUCT SEQUENCE ONE

My crew fought bravely
Many died, the living – barely
So, I limp them home
Or what remains of them
They will heal but my soul is stained
Systems askew, I will never again
Fly true.
DESTRUCT SEQUENCE TWO

Within me remains an intruding creation
I will fight this sickening infiltration.
An engineering dysfunction
Puts my weapons in disarray
It de-energizes my core
Depress me and you’ll see my sparks
Agony to me and to those I love
It’s always confusion and criticality
DESTRUCT SEQUENCE THREE

I arrive safely — my crew is home
Yet not for me, my home was out there
Dodging fire, winning every fight
Yet under this battle, I will never be the same
Broken and no longer needed, but desire remains
An uncontrollable flame, so I return to space
For one final flare against this fiercest enemy
I do what I must.  I will be free!

Forgive me and please remember,
It's just a matter of my internal security.

Truth to an Honest T

Where is the Truth to an Honest T?
Not the one, two, three truth
Of a his, her, and me truth
But the single truth of all truth
Like an Ecclesiastical Solomon truth
Minus the whole duty to God truth
A Dragnet truth, just the truth.

We are man: male and female
We lie and make fanciful tale
We know it not
We each to our own, what makes us happy
We settle our souls and heal our hearts
We despise any further lesson yet

Lay the cards on the table, faces of true evil,
And name them not.
Yet among their conflicts, carnage, corruption
Evil was not in their heart
They believed in power, purpose, and passion
We strive for the same, seeking their salvation.

Look to God at his great traits
Omniscient.
Omnipresent.
Omnipotent.
We will though…no.  We cannot wait.

Anything God has done must be good
We know for he was razed on wood
Yet he stood, so we must also stand
We believe we are God; we follow man.

Yet we lack all that God was, is, could be or what
Create our own righteousness
Delved in the pit of our own indignation
We act with hatred of all that is not us
And judge the future by the past
Like all the cards above
Created in the Tempest of our thoughts
Righteousness
Yet with no Plan to Forbid
Wondering why, we live and die
From the Monsters in our Id.

How to Lace a Dream

I have felt the solid rock under all waters and seas,
Where pressure prohibits all air, yet bubbles ooze from places beyond.

I have tasted the passions and glory of life,
But life is always bested by some Space coming from beyond.

I have inhaled the aroma of the undying rose, the lotus and the lily,
Reviving those memories from those days of beyond.
  
I have heard heaven’s great choirs singing glorious
Hallelujahs from beyond the twelve pearls of heaven.

I have seen the edge of expanding space,
Often wondering, what lies beyond to expand into?
 
Beyond rationality we find our dreams
It is from there they arise. Companions and riddles from the muse,
Fleeting moments to grasp and live.
Sea turtles arise by the throng from underneath the sand.
Sea horse birthed from the male unlike most other life.
Of their masses only a few survive to reach the blessed waters;
It is the same with dreams.

The shout of their birth washes over us like a whisper.
Quickly, but gently now, grab one.  A single germ of inspiration that is a dream;
A tiny and tender tendril to take us to the unknown. 

Not all dreams can survive so choose
Carefully, and lace it delicately to your life’s tapestry.
Patience my friend for a long cultivation.
But be wary for the dangers of the unravelling,
Take now the aglet.
And guide it around the obstacles of impatience, disbelief, and ridicule.
But sometimes the unravelling becomes its own tendril leading dreams to some
Other Space.
So be careful!  Don’t let the aglet become a prison.
The tapestry must flow ever ebb and grow.
Once it is pulled taut the dream will stop.

Be patient . . .

Not all dreams come true, but of the ones that do,
Ever the sun will shine on your own Gold of Kinabalu.

Burn

In an infinitesimal expanse of space, a star burns. 
Its light and energy feeding the surrounding blackness,
A nothingness containing nothing.
I lay on my couch or bed seeking a life of dreams
And finding my only life within my dreams.

The star burns less, it’s beginning its sleep
At the end of its solar cycle
The dreaming begins.
I would like adventure
Feel some passion, to be liked and admired.  How about
Just a friend. 
I close my eyes.

The star wakes, waving a flare
Hello empty space, let life begin.
My mind dreams in the Dance of the Spirits,
I wake in the sun’s glow,
Stretch to greet this sunlit day. 
And it burns.

Freedom, Gratitude, and My Service

Why did I serve? For twenty-one years I served in the United States Air Force and spent an additional five years serving as a Department of the Army Civilian. As honorable as both careers were, I didn’t choose to sacrifice my life for your thanks. Yes, I said sacrifice. Every member, military or civilian, gives up a portion of their life whereas some give it completely. Only to those does the fullness of our gratitude belong, but everywhere we go, people say “Thanks for your service.”

Do they really feel such gratitude, or do they simply follow the provocation of convention? After all, who wants to be identified as disrespectful to the military. But regardless of motivation, and ONLY for me personally, I’d rather not receive your thanks. Don’t get me wrong, I’m grateful for your gratitude, but that is not why I served.

Patriotism is not about country nor any of its constituent elements of nationalism, ethnicity, and religion. And it especially isn’t about government; Patriotism is about people. Yet we see such infighting among ourselves. We are hating ourselves. We see it on social media, and unfortunately people are dying because of our hatred.

Freedom must be offensive. It must allow narratives and rhetoric apprehensible to others, but it must not foment in us such hatred that our neighbors, our friends and family – our nation – suffers. Yet freedom bolsters our defiance against normalcy and moral rectitude; we choose barbarism. We want to hate. That hatred comes from nowhere but ourselves. We echo Dr. Morbius by showing a mere token of civility to our fellow citizens, but at night, in the darkness of our thoughts, people die from the “monsters from our id.”

I served because I love America. I see that now more fully then I did upon initial enlistment, but I know it was as true then as it is now. We didn’t serve to make our country great, we served to give each citizen the freedom to choose and live with and for freedom for everybody, and only upon which, can we all make America great for everybody. We have failed.

The next time you see me or any military member, go ahead and give us your gratitude, but remember, it doesn’t end there. Use your freedom, our freedom, in the words of President Lincoln, “to bind up the nation’s wounds” and be truly patriotic.

I Am Not My Grandfather

My grandfather knew Scott County.  As a child he invited me to the Mississippi Valley Fair livestock barns in the early morning hours.  Among the pleasant effervescent aromas, our time wasn’t just to prepare and admire the exhibition of Iowa’s strong cattle association.  This was a lesson in community.  My grandfather knew every farmer in each stall and we, well he, knew and conversed with all. I didn’t know them. To me they were just old men, not exactly a child’s desire at the fair to stand quietly unaware of the wisdom shared between these farmers.

Fast forward to 1984 when that great man died. Following the ceremonies, the procession headed to Mount Union Cemetery adjacent to his fertile land where his grandson and great grandkids still produce. There was no end to that procession. From the rears, beyond the horizon, mourners came to honor this man who honored his family: my father and uncle, and a Pearl of a grandmother; and the land and country he loved. To him it was community.  Where he knew everybody.

Two years later, I joined another community in the United States Air Force and left that community after twenty-one years.  But in the midst of living that dream, my father died along with my mother’s parents – grandparents of equal honor and recognition.

Today, childless and by myself, I live a father’s day that is at most unpleasant and at worst, well, something shy of hell. But my memories live on. My father visiting me in Las Vegas, playing on my church softball team.  My maternal grandparents visiting me in Colorado shortly after my enlistment where my grandfather beamed at his grandson wearing and living Air Force blue. 

Among many others, these memories thrill the past but terrify the future. Once grand dreams have died in desolation. But I know I’m not alone in this. Perhaps that is our community. While we may never meet, we are ever connected. Some may consider us failures; we are not.

Community hallmarks a man’s life. Through his actions he has built the tangible and the unseen. We can never truly understand the impact of our works either locally or globally, but as men we live, never truly giving up on our desires. I can’t build a life for a non-realized family, but I can for my four lovely nieces.

God reveals that a man with a full quiver is blessed, but the reverse is not necessarily true. Let us be and remain men. Building the community that we find of passionate worth. While I know I will never be either of my Grandfathers.  I know that in a pure existential sense – I am. 

Happy Father’s Day to ALL.

General Lee is Not the Problem

I detest white supremacy. I detest their rhetoric of hatred and victimhood. I detest their perversion of Christianity, and I detest the religious right in their global failure to denounce the extremes of their base. I know some have, but Christianity, in general, provides a token of condemnation, but they more often simply turn their heads. They have simply been taught to hate the Left more than their own righteousness. It’s a shame really.

However, the extremes of the Left seeking to sanitize American history are wrong. And I detest their efforts. General Robert E. Lee is not the problem. Again . . .

General Robert E. Lee is not the problem.

General Lee was a master tactician, loyal servant of Virginia and the United States and a favorite of President Lincoln. He graduated from the American Military Academy and honorably served the United States for over 32 years. He was against the seccession of the confederacy and believed in unity over disunion. At the onset of the Civil War, he was President Lincoln’s first choice to lead the union army, but because of his loyalty to Virginia, he told Lincoln that where Virginia goes, he will follow. And he became the leader of the Confederate Army.

Every American should be proud of General Lee, yes, he fought on the wrong side of history. However, let us all honor his service, his loyalty, and death for our country. He was greatly involved in post-war politics and substantiated his arguments with civility and reason. An example, his present-day followers should follow. While I don’t personally agree with all he said and did, let me close with a snippet of a letter he wrote five years before his death. Something everyone in Charlottesville, Virginia would be well-advised to read:

"It should be the object of all to avoid controversy, to allay passion, give full scope to reason and to every kindly feeling. By doing this and encouraging our citizens to engage in the duties of life with all their heart and mind, with a determination not to be turned aside by thoughts of the past and fears of the future, our country will not only be restored in material prosperity, but will be advanced in science, in virtue and in religion."