The Logic of the World

The Logic of the World


He lay there naked, cold and bare,
His state so wretched, poor men stare,
His body bore the sting of blows,
Revealed in the Sun’s piercing glare,

He got no mercy from his foes,
He lay there in his dieing throes,
He shook a fist fiercely up high,
And cursed God loudly for his woes,

If there’s a God up in that sky,
I ask one question, I ask why?
For what bad deed has this been wrought,
Or do you delight when men die?

He disliked the answer he got,
In fact his question was for naught.
In the silence his body grew taut,
There is no God he madly thought,

Shakespearian Sonnet

wow i had stopped writing on this blog, but much to my suprise it's still be getting a good amount of traffic, so i've decided to post again, for now at least. Here's a poem I wrote for my mom as a little boy. I don't really understand it either lol but it sounded good, and she liked it so who cares.


Shakespearian Sonnet


O how my tears would flow upon that morn,
If your budding flower withered down,
You're little leaf since the day I was born,
To the day my leaf fadest to the ground,

I pray that every day this plant will grow,
And shine in it's glory nay the pride,
This present from the ground with grandeur bow,
Shall ever live as beauty nature cried,

O dew continue falling here I pray,
Let the sun conquer darkness' hate,
The love that binds this plant furlong the day,
May light triumph as was deemed for it's fate,

For ages yet forever flourish on,
And end the darkness by the waking dawn.

Dramatic poetry

this is a short dramatic, but somewhat depressing poem called "What is Left." It's meter is eight beats per line.

They laid the dead man in the dirt,
And all his happiness and hurt,

Faded away that day as one,
Despite which one on earth had won,

His hate and passions, loves and fears,
Gone as the eternal sleep nears,

All his quests and goals are now dead,
O the sorrows of the life's bed,

What is left of this young man?
Nothing, he is no more in the land,

Emotional Poetry

Here is one about a Homeless man, thoughts are appreciated.


The torture of my memory,
Makes me wish I cannot see,

There is no light at the end,
My scars of woe I cannot mend,

Against the world alone I stand,
Drowning in water desperate for land,

The ghosts of fate are not my friend,
If this goes on my life will end,

Friends have deserted but hundreds of foes,
I'm filled with pain by Satan's arrows,

The agony I feel makes me lay down and cry,
I am sitting alone and wondering why?

What did I do to deserve all this,
What happened to the years of bliss,

Why should I go on what's for to live?
By my horrible choices I'm a captive,

The grief the distress the torture the pain,
All of my striving it's all been in vain,

The bench in the park is my home now,
My chances are gone I sit with head bowed,

O just one more chance to redeem myself,
It's all one need's to save himself,

But here I sit my live is over,
The time goes steadily getting colder,

And there you go walking by,
A flare of hope and then it dies,

You make yourself think someone else will,
You know its a lie and it's me you kill,

What would've happened if you'd hadn't ran,
What would've happened if you'd given a hand,

Not Worthy

Holy, Righteous and Just is God,
What hast we done to spare the rod?

Is there deed we can acclaim to,
Have we done something that came you,

Fire should destroy the whole world,
Judgement what hast stayed your hand Lord,

Wholely evil is all the men,
Why go on there is but one end,

From what hast come this love for man,
Why do you try to save this land,

Look and find but one man of God,
One whose walk is true and not flawed,

Forgiveness every day our plea,
But Lord you know the heart and see,

The lies we hide in every day,
That we refuse to live the way,

That you command for us all time,
Thanks but no we prefer the slime,

Holy, Righteous and Just is God,
What hast we done to spare the rod?

The Holocaust

This is a poem I wrote describing the Holocaust, it's not exactly politically correct but I thought it turned out nice. I've also decided I'm going to switch back and forth between poetry, and theology in my posts.

Alas the sun refused to shine
upon that fateful day
when the great god above decided
no pity should come our way

the call was quick but ruthless
but it's marks have greatened my strife
the hurts we've received this day
makes me plead it had taken my life

many others by darts are falling
but that day I refused to die
friends and family with their hearts calling
to the god above asking why

i remember the horrible screams
the bullets flying everywhere
there horrid gleeful faces
as they spread death to all still there

despite the wrongs done to us
we refused to return there blows
we prayed for them to our saviour
but they still added to our woes

many tried to run
but their numbers were to great
it seemed to us that day
to die together was our fate

and as the last ones of us were dying
we could sense god was near
while our fates remained pain-stricken
from our hearts left all fear

Unknown soldier poem

it's time for more poetry this is one I wrote a while ago but have redone slightly. Every line is eight syllables.


"The anthem of the Unknown dead"

The anthem of the unknown dead,
Baptized in a pool of red,

Forgotten through the mists of time,
Both their good deeds and their crimes,

Lost souls buried in foriegn lands,
Retaken by all nature's hands,

These men whose sacrifice was all,
From lives of sorrow blest they fall,

With naught to hold aloft but pain,
Forgotten soldiers die in vain,

But Nay, a bloody battle crown,
Is won on God forsaken ground,

When they fell to deaht's cold fierce bite,
Alone and friendless in the fight,

Life dripping from their face and brow,
They fall to knees and head they bow,

But spirit keeps it's loyal fire,
A belief in a cause that's higher,

One that conquers fear of death,
And give the dieing man new breath,

Honor, passion, quest for glory,
These create the lore of story,

These fuel the heart's desire,
and create the Mental fire,

To happ'ly sacrifice one's all,
To fight in foreign lands then fall,

The anthem of the unknown dead,
Spurs the hearts of man's heros bred,

To boldly conquer any height,
To fight a foe as dark as night,

The unknown dead are hero's born,
Their heart and soul on oath they've sworn,

These hero's are the greatest man,
Who proudly die to save the land.

above the influence poems

I've had some requests for more poetry so here are two poems that I have written. The first I've already posted on a former blog, and the second is a variation of the first so I would like you to vote on which is better the first or the second because I am torn but like them both.

I looked in her eyes,
And I saw fears,

I looked in her heart,
And I saw tears,

I heard her words,
And felt the pain,

I heard her cries,
And saw the stain,

There she stood alone,
No one on her side,

No one was her friend,
And so alone she died,

No one held her up,
No one found her name,

And when she yelled for help,
Nobody ever came,

Alone in the world she stood,
No one offered a hand,

She died a lonely death,
A woman searching for land,



that was the first

here is the second



Her fears were pictured,
In her eyes,

Her heart is full,
Of tears she cries,

Her words are burdened,
With the pain,

Her crying leaving,
Eternal stain,

Hopelessness,
Is all she'll find,

Veiled by pain,
She is blind,

Pierced by life's dagger,
Won't someone save her,

There she stands alone,
All, on her own,


1 or 2?

Over the Fields

i shall now for the third time try to successfully keep a blog. Do not be angry if i fail to be consistent, it is not a strong suit. Today i shall share a simple ditty i wrote on the way to vacation which i think has an interesting twist to it. (ditty to me means poem or song)

It echoed over the land to stay,
Over the field where the bodies lay,

Every day as the moon fell,
It rose from the crest of the grassy knell,

A skirmish with the day's dark,
A cry of hope a bright spark,

A piercing ray of hope to all,
The weeping mother's whose son's would fall,

The passing of the night would bring,
A day of blood of which they sing,

A hundred thousand heros die,
Another day when women cry,

But as the wailing meets it's height,
The sound erupts piercing the night,

A moment of passing fevor and cheer,
Conquering the day's collection of fear,

Rising from the hill to hang in the air,
It gives hope to all listening there,

The day would continue with the battle of foes,
And the evening would echo with the sound of woes,

But the coming night brought the comforting sounds,
Of a traveling bagpiper making his round,

The music brings a heartfilling song,
To those whose hearts for hope they long,

Cutting the pain from the bloody day,
And sending the souls to their eternal stay,

The day brings new thoughts of fight,
But it passes with teh dawn of light,



Now the interesting theme in this poem is that it protrays night as the time of safety and protection verses the typical view of light. Now don't get upset you morning people, and yes i am a night person. But the important thing is that it talks about a view that is almost nonexistant. Dark is because of man made prejudice considered evil. For example if i were to say "Sally Bright was walking down the path in the woods, but she forgot about the time, and light soon faded into night, a dark night" the immediate reaction would be oooh whose gonna jump out of the woods. I hate "Hate" very much man made predjudices and i encourage you to not fall into these many pits. For another example the word "Gay." I say that word and i feel evil lol but in fact it just means happy and joyful. I pray you, do not fall to the pursuasion of the secular world's mutilation of words and hidden meanings. Stay Above the Influence