an exercise in a 35 second poem

you make me sing

you make me want to dance

you make your freedom ring

you put my heart in trance

you make me smile

you make me laugh

you stay awhile

you are the half

you are the woman for my love

you are my baby

you are a dove

you are my sweetheart forever, maybe

Red

Through clouds of gray and seas of Red

I struggle forth, to bring Me back

Though now indeed with bloodied head

Resound, I shall, to not to lack

My nation, barren in this hushed musk

Summer awakens, ignites the cold

As ahead now draws to black’ning dusk

They strut aforth, timidly bold

They march to attack the preciousness of sound

I cannot have that, not mine be bowed

I shall to not to lack Resound

For of by free and thus endowed

This War of ideology, brought unfortunate this day

Where few are dead and wounded, a life is but a name

This dusty mess hath ruined now the pleasures of my stay

And I, in my still dying self, freely of this (game.

Time marched on through decades of April

Forgotten, scarred, on untouched shelf in this it doth resign

But time Won’t erase the scARS on my brow, or the smirk of victory]

For march I longer earth no more, better, than The line

Nameless

You open your eyes, if just to reveal

All of the hate I cannot conceal

You open your mouth if just to unveil

All of the judgment, I cannot avail

You stand their glorious

Me mocking, “victorious”

You stand there now hurt,

Me mocking, too curt

You laugh though this is not in fun

I stand there as proud to everyone

You are far too nice to this jerk of a me

I thank you dear woman for that you still be

You are so special, precious in deed

So beautiful in and out, its beauty you bleed

I am so often too confident of self

If you thought truly, I’m the dust on your shelf

That menace it smothers the fun things you love

Me, a jerk, of ego— above

I ought to thank God each day that I stay

For, so easily, so clearly you should blow me away

You walk through the halls and I swear you do glow

If only you knew all these feelings I know

Your magnificent nature, much different from mine

Helps me, though faltering, to walk a straight line

You are quite special; I may love you in fact

I’d give you this poem if my confidence intact

I long to see you, to say you’re with me

To be no longer two, but rather one tree

I know that this is not what I deserve

It’s just that I long to love you and serve

To go through this life to make you more glad

To dry all your tears, may you never be sad

Perhaps in my prior, ignorant way

I hid from you everything I dream as I lay

In telling you plans, and dreams that I have

I hope that one day we can do both as halves

That we follow each other, and thusly we lead

To destiny, in love, with alacritous speed

Though stopping at pleasure to give a flower a sniff

Hand in hand we could walk my darling, what if

I realize that this may one day be read,

But please don’t let pity augment my stead

I wish for the chance to love and to learn

But choose for yourself, “what do you yearn”

I’ll be just fine I’m just a romantic

If I’m with you right now, look up, I’m frantic

With this do I close this honest tale

Presenting my love as a raven, in gale

I admire you, and enjoy spending my time,

Expressing my feelings, of you through this rhyme

And so here’s my die, cast in the pot

Last but not least, I like you a lot

There’s my two cents probably covered with soot

But finally, now the shoe’s on your foot

…

Waiting for an answer

Dreaming for hope

Falling to reality

I feel like a dope

Please know that whether a yes or a no

Call on me anytime, the places, we’ll go

You will forever hold a place in my heart

Just know, my dear lady, what a treasure thou art.

Intentions

your smoky eyes glisten in frosted gold light
as it seems you wish that i stay the night
and now as i stand there with jaw clenched tight
i now must make a choice
of one to give in to this ethereal bliss
of one to leave in an angry hiss
or one to lean in and start with a kiss
i cannot make this choice
for as soon as i start and make my motion
just as quick might love impotion
and feelings to flare, i have a notion
i cannot make this choice
her lips now kissing i touch her skin
and for a moment it seems that sin doth win
till her affectious eye turns seductively kin
for now there is no choice
i stand there grinning, wishing to be
back where we were, her with me,
but "men, come"..."shame on thee"
o women what do you want!

Reality Falls

i sit here and long for, but never to drink
i ride on my life rising, to sink
i dream of you i feel, as on the brink
i fall un-tasting of reality
i picture you, wholly, in my minds detailed eye
i wonder, and realize, without you i'd die
i say this, its cheesy, but really, no lie
i fall un-tasting of reality
i yearn to be there, to see your sweet face
i wish to unveil you untangling lace
i then wish to start, to finish the race
i fall, hurt by reality

SAT Essay: Are people better at making observations, discoveries, and decisions if they remain neutral and impartial?

Life, in effect, is just this never-ending baragement of choices and decisions, leadership, though developed only by some, is universal in nature. At some point, it becomes necessary for all men and women, to lead, because all are required to choose, and in this, to lead their life through the carrying out to fruition, these decisions. And Thus, it becomes germane, the task of deciding (yet again) how to decide. (The need for this is very telling of its importance and relevant to the call of leadership afore mentioned). One way of making decisions is in this sort of pseudo pacifism of "neutrality", of externally staying firm in the middle of your decision. The other, contrastingly, is sticking, excruciating at time, by one point, choosing one and standing by it. Both can be useful at different times, but in the everyday and lower-scale situations of our lives, the latter is far more efficient.
Franklin D. Roosevelt, one of the presidents of the United States in 1932-1945, was in a distinct position of authority, though there was fierce opposition at both ends. He frolicked impartially in regards to international affairs, trying to appease the isolationist populous, but the polar ends between internationalism and isolationism cannot be met in the middle. Finally, at the beginning of the 1940s his responses and attempted actions shifted, as he began to side with this interventionist isolationism. Then and only then, could things get done. While often it feels as though staying in the middle makes one liked by all, this is an impossible task. Men will always have others who dislike or hate him, and through a partial and decisive approach these enemies will show up, but as it is said, "keep your friends close and your enemies closer". It is far better to fight on a defensive ground supporting one thing, then to wallow in the hopeless fight for universal gratification.
In smaller situations than the presidency, this practice of partial, and at times stubborn decisiveness, is often seen by the leaders of any group. At school, for instance, group leaders are seen setting the guidelines and sticking with them for their observations and discoveries. They won't take lip, and they are able to stay in power because of their commitment to their idea and the proof they make for their case. They fight a battle, as we all must do, but by knowing their territory and their enemies, they hold all the cards.
Consequently, as we as people make observations, decisions, or, discoveries of any nature, it is crucial, that you abstain from this gray area of the spectrum, that you are blinded to change, but that, you stand, in confident leadership at the head ready to defend, willing, to grow, destined to discover!

Empathy / Love

What is more powerful than empathy? This is, effectually my love, I dream, not of romance, but of sympathy and suffering, I dream of rejection, for in rejection I have this sinister satisfaction in being felt sorry for, in knowing that someone is hurt for not treating me well: and so much so that it would nigh be better than to have actually been treated well. This is all due to my personal lack of interpersonal skills, intimate seclusion, event sequencing, and general knowledge of responsibility and care for another life. I am the product of sin and selfishness, of sloth and sarcasm but I'll be damned if my facade is not one to be envied by all! And it is for this reason that I long for this minor suffering in order that i may further this idealistic front and that all who leave me, want me. For it seems better to be desired than cared for, to be missed rather than loved. I wonder how confused this is, perhaps, how perverted in mind or tainted in motive, but i challenge that this cannot be solely my feeling, for as I go through this life I realize that the people I most dislike in this world are only those who don't try to do simply the same thing. Its not the sinners I despise or those who wear mask, for they are cohorts in the debauchery of my confused stead, it is in fact those people who have overcome that I have an issue with. Jealousy is my strongest enemy, Sarcasm, my weapon in the war of Relationships, and wit my knife. I am the master of my fate but as i try to Captain my soul, I fall, hard, not in empathy, not in love, but in true dejection, utter complacency of my life, and I shall, if left to myself die and live, solely, alone.

The Legacy of John Adams from Boston to Guantanamo

                In the ever-changing world of fad, fashion, philosophy, and ideology, two things have remained the same—one, the firm belief or at least desire that we all, as humans hold certain unalienable rights—to speak and be defended, the second thing; however, is the unfortunate and ever present hatred toward the defenders of particular defendants: namely those who are viewed with repulsion due to certain “immoral things” or as certain ‘less than reputable’ people. This was blown to pieces when, John Adams, a lawyer, and future president, defied his nation, for this moment, to defend, successfully so, the rights of the British soldiers at the Boston Massacre. America was outraged at this, exemplifying the true selfishness of mankind, that these Rutherfordian ideas of Lex, Rex is only idealized, by the accused and the guilty, and that supremacy takes hold when people, then and now stand up in arms about defending those who they feel personal hatred for: now, for example, in Guantanamo Bay. There is a seeming disposition and ergo a forestallment of the institution of the right to trial, and in some ways, a de-garmenting of the robe of mercy, that one is innocent until proven guilty. The path of law, its practice and institution, both civilly and militarily, has fought tooth and nail to sustain, and even to grow amidst incessant castigation: the law must remain King.

                When Adams defended the enemy British soldiers in Boston, he set a controversial standard which stated that rights are universal and unconditional. This was, effectually one of the most important precedents for the trek of law through America. It would lead to the institution of Miranda rights, and the supposed right of every person on or controlled by America to be awarded trial by a fair and unbiased judge and jury. However, just as his defense in the Boston case was met by a strong upheaval, today, there is still today a similar insurgence against the defense of serial, mass, and terrorist criminals, namely, those detainees at Guantanamo Bay, Cuba. These detainees have been denied these same civil rights to liberty as every other American.

                Perhaps, this is justifiable, for presumably all of these people are personally responsible for the deaths of thousands of Americans and other peoples through terrorist efforts. However, how can one believe that such acts are corollary with the U.S. Constitution, for what harm is there in trying them. Where has the precedent of American justice of “innocent until proven guilty” gone? Does this only apply in civil case with ‘good-looking’ or iconic criminals such as O.J. Simpson? Do not these criminals, though repulsive and vile, engaging in all types of sodomy, still hold the certain unalienable rights endemic to being human?  Do not they still (if not unfortunately) bleed the same red blood?

                Barack Obama, in running for president in 2008, promised that the detainees would be transported away from Guantanamo into regular jails across the globe. While, this is more gentle than many radical Americans, it is important to note that he does not talk about trying them, just, rather, dispersing them, in effect washing our hands of the matter. He also proposed that a military judge be in charge of the trial and sentencing. The military judges are a completely different breed, as evidenced in the popular movie, “A Few Good Men” where it is seen, that though the military judge knows a lot of the treacherous things done in war, and would seemingly be more lenient on certain detainees whose actions were relatively minor in comparison and in the “gracious and merciful” boundaries of war, are actually significantly more stern in their sentencing, upholding the practices of the Geneva Convention at all costs.

                Consequently, the path of law, from Boston to Guantanamo, Adams to Obama, has been one of great tumult and overwhelming opposition, but the men that stand firm to keep its Adamsian existence should be revered and  recognized for the stand they take every day against tyrannical cartoonization, radical opposition, and often personal guilt. They get up every morning to do their job, excruciatingly at times, but the rights of people must be defended and its voice, lawyers, to defend.

            

Bene Legere Saecle Vincere

"Bene legere saecla vincere"

"To read well is to conquer the ages"

What does it mean to be well read? Mark Twain says “A person who won’t read has little advantage over one who can’t read.” For it is by reading that a man can have experiences. Most people, even in this modern self serving society will never achieve the benefits of traveling the world like a Phileas Fogg in Around the World in 80 days. Most people will never get the chance to live on West Egg, Long Island and meet fantastic people, and discover who they themselves are such as Nick in the Great Gatsby, most people will never have the experience of wearing, or rather bearing the weighty burden of an embroidered scarlet letter on our chest as Hester Prynne in the Scarlet Letter. These are all experiences, which we will probably never feel in our own personal life, but they are still so crucial to our development and the mapping out of our character and thus the decisions we make, these decisions that turn around to make us. It is only by reading that we can experience all the necessary parts of this world to gain proper perspective in all situations. When reading, the imagination that powers us to succeed is handed its wings, and as we turn the page, they open. In this visual, and obscenely lazy culture, many resort to movies to achieve this, and in a way, they are in fact accomplishing these goals of achieving perspective with an alarming rapidity; however, without imagination being allowed to work, the experience and memory becomes confined to that screen. When reading a book, it is easy to explore yourself in the situations and characters, to make up personalities, and transform the book and its situations into your own life. That A on your chest may not be for adultery, it may feel more like an N for nerdy or a W for weird, and as you take the distinctive experiences of Hester’s run down and abused state and society, you see Dimmesdale as that boyfriend or girlfriend you had who always wanted you to change or who loved you solely in secret and was aloof on the outside. Maybe Pearl, as your far weirder friend who you love, but it hurts because you feel she brings you down, maybe you are a teen mom ashamed at the fact of your child being here so soon but still struggling for you love it so much. Maybe Chillingworth is that evil ex who is now obsessed solely with screwing the rest of your life over, of twisting the knife already buried deep into your heart, maybe he represents the popular person at school who used to be your friend but now ridicules you incessantly just for pleasure. Maybe a lot of things in that book can be applied to you, and it is only by reading, and learning from their mistakes and victories just as you would your own and growing stronger and more prepared for the rest of life’s battles. By reading, we attain not only this alternate universe of learning, where we are able to achieve things far more advanced then bookless myopia. We are all the victims of a tragedy called life, but with the right tools placed in front of us, the right knowledge for what’s behind us, the right spirit for what lies ahead of us, and the right motives to what lies beyond, we may rise up, and though we all will fall victim to life, we may, just perhaps also fall victim to victory, to life and life abundantly. Books are our limits. On this earth, the limits of our victories are directly determined by the limits of our imagination, and it is through books that our imaginations are able to expound—to explode. We become, invariably what we read, the memories of the characters become directly entangled into our own and we are furthered. By reading, we are becoming these characters, conquering what they conquer, dying to what they die, and living…the life of not only ourselves but of all those people put forth in verse through all of the ages, by reading of them we become one with them, by this we become one with our decisions, sound in mind, omniscient in perspective, wholesome in purpose, and both willing and distinctly able…to conquer the ages, to live the lives we were meant, to dream the dreams we were meant to have and maybe fall victim to this life, and waking up on the blissful shores of glory, we awake with resounding voice, knowing that in all we did we should not trade one moment in this life, for it hath brought me here and resting in this eternity, both a victim to life and death, we have conquered both and eternity awaits you—conqueror.