Apropos of Everything I Know

“To the States”
To the States or any one of them, or any city of the States,
    Resist much, obey little,
Once unquestioning obedience, once fully enslaved,
Once fully enslaved, no nation, state, city, of this earth, ever
    afterward resumes its liberty.
— Walt Whitman, Leaves of Grass

8 thoughts on “Apropos of Everything I Know

  1. My my Mary.
    Quite the literary genius.
    Poetry and truth rolled into one.
    Amazing what can be said when you are free!


  2. Can anybody hear me! He shouted, his lips remaining still.
    His ears strained hoping for a response.
    Am I dead? He questioned, feeling fear rise up in his throat.
    His limbs lay unmoving, wooden at his side.
    Is this the end? He thought, his eyes darting back and forth.
    There were others sitting cold and silent beside him.
    Why are we here? He contemplated, never finding an answer.
    With all of his being he tried unsuccessfully to flee.
    Who am I? He pondered, his mind conjuring broken memories.
    There were many recent years left unaccounted for.
    What is this! He screamed, starting to stand unexpectedly.
    A pull at his limbs brought him quickly to his feet.
    “Amen”, the Pastor said, ending the service
    Gently wrapping his puppets he put them back in their box.


  3. Here is something that I wrote this morning. Let me know what you think.
    Oh Pastor My Lord
    Bow down before me and pay reverence
    I am the anointed one sent by God to rule
    My words come directly from above
    They are to be obeyed without thought
    Give to me all that you have gathered in your stores
    For my desires are great and cannot be quenched
    I have chosen you and gathered you together
    To do my every whim at the request of God
    I sit in my place of authority bloated with the plenty
    Brought to me by my brethren’s sweat and blood
    I ignore the tears and gnashing of teeth
    For my desires outweigh the good of man
    How I long for the day when all will be judged
    For my reign has been great and the harvest good
    My robes are pristine no blemish can be found
    I recline in my chambers relishing in my holiness
    Oh Pastor My Lord! All my subjects resound
    Their eyes hollow and dark, the fire extinguished
    Their lives I hold tightly in the palm of my hand
    Waiting for the day I will receive my reward


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