Created problems

Reactions condign

Fate encroaches

Humanity’s decline

Useless suffrage

Purposeful design

Corruption obvious

Society supine

Political coercion

Media malign

Continued belief

Must disincline

The propaganda

We must confine

Town square

Free speech’s lifeline

Trusting government

Simply asinine

Quest for answers

Truth and lies intertwine

In vino veritas

There’s truth in wine

2019 came back to me in a Snapchat memory. It reeked like BART on a Friday night, all vomit and trash and grimace. We’re all going somewhere important; next year, they’ll tell us to stay home and drown in liquor. Before the pandemic, I counted down the minutes until my train was coming. But it only took us away from each other. I don’t reminisce often. But I can still smell the vomit. I can see her walking away, after telling me a secret. BART continued on. In 2020, it was forbidden, a vice to want movement. Who carries us?

"You will be accepted if you do what is right. But if you refuse to do what is right, then watch out! Sin is crouching at the door, eager to control you. But you must subdue it and be its master (Genesis 4:7 NLT)."

The story of Cain is a prime example of the dangers of pride. Instead of improving his own work, Cain killed his brother out of jealousy. I may not be killing those I am jealous of, but comparing myself to them and being envious of how ahead of me they seem to be is a sure fire recipe for failure. My energy is better spent working on my own craft, and not only learning from those that have been successful, but supporting and cheering them on too. Lord, please forgive me for the times that I give in to jealousy. Please help me to focus on my own journey, and dedicate it to you. The next time jealous feelings kick in, please help me to redirect those feelings to praise and genuine support, and please help me to learn from the amazing examples you expose me to. In Jesus' name I pray, Amen.

For over 55 years, I have delved, looked into, wondered and written about many things. From a birth to death, from love to hate, sadness to joy, and all points that intersect.

I have written so much, offered up advice to other writer's on how to publish, how to better their own writing, while all during this time, I kept my own writing, so to speak in the background, and for the longest time, unwilling to put myself out there for the world to see, other than here on Prose.

Today, that all comes to a screeching halt.

I have now officially put one of my collections of poetry on a website that distributes to several store fronts for sale. Scattered Thoughts, although it isn't the same Scattered Thoughts I am doing here (I have three Scattered Thoughts collections, hopefully that will take care of any confusion).

I have to give kudo's to a couple people, one being TW, for telling me about D2D (Draft to Digital). The site is easy to navigate and my collection, withiin less than 24 hours was listed with five store fronts. And will more than likely have more added by days end, and the days ahead.

Two others, Voidkin_Killer (who did the design cover for all the Scattered Thoughts and EstherFlowers1 for her contribution ... I couldn't have done this without your help.

So now, it's official, after probably writing a billion or more words in my lifetime (that's just a guess, don't take me literally), I can now say I am a published author.

Over the course of the next three months, I will put up the remaining Scattered Thoughts, as well as a collection of short stories and the first book of my Evil Series. From there it will vary as to what I will submit and when.

It's a good feeling and now comes my shameless plug.

If you like what I write, then I am sure you will like what is in this collection. It's only $2.99. This is the link and right now you have several options with whch store front to purchase from. That can all be found here: https://books2read.com/u/bpzXMk

So I say to all of you writer's and poet's, if you have ever had the thought to make a dream you have come true, this is one of those times when you can finally crosss that threshold and make it a reality. This link can change your life, or at least get you started in the direction you have privately thought about. https://www.draft2digital.com/

And while writing this two more store fronts have been added.

Life suddenly became better.

so many outlines of possibilities and scratching notions

loud matter and worried tones,

this unheard music always played on repeat

spell it with me

o-v-e-r t-h-i-n-k-i-n-g

There shall be no mornings...

not a single stroke of light

where your lips

ain't covering.

No more daybreak...

a miniscule reflection

where your smile

ain't raining.

After dark

is dark

without you.

No clouds

to shade

my heart

fumes.

You give me

the spark

to bake

my dream's

womb.

If you don't

draw me close...

in this

oven

my doughnuts

are ruined.

No mornings...

only ash

and wrecked

films.

Baby! Baby!

I need you.

Still my night never sleeps.

It is covered with

a desire that

never bleaches.

I drown with

my mouth

wide open,

yet my lungs

are as dry

as a desert

rich streams.

For my hunger

for you

cannot be satisfied.

It grows

and never

stops flowing.

Can I kiss your breast

tonight.

Drown my worries

to cry no more.

I digest the tip

of your delicate

nipples.

That I shall thirst no

more.

Cause you're

all I need

to be whom

I need to be.

I love you...

It's the feeling you bring

The butterflies in my stomach

The high in my head

The tingles in my heart

It's the feeling I've heard my friends describe but never felt

And now I do

And it's not you I don't want to lose

It's the feeling.

Two strangers together

in the night’s cold heat,

… that was the beginning.

Sharing warm breath,

escaping in passion,

as sweating bodies

cooled in the morning sun.

… that was the second time.

Since then to now,

night’s cold darkness

crossed over into morning

of the sun’s cold heart

as many days have passed

a lonely crossing.

… there has been no other time.

Two strangers no longer;

rather passing through time,

as well known, yet distant friends.

As days’ pass,

passing conversation

of what happened in separate lives;

being constantly polite,

never really knowing why.

… perhaps there might be another time.

No, I think not.

Like passing conversation,

so too, was the thought.

… but maybe. Just maybe.