In the end, a label is a name, And a name is often a useful label. In an age-old sort of game, We play it often when we're capable.
The attributes of each scream Tells us that necessary something That lies beyond desert skies and dreams The something clung to is often nothing.
All that we think we know as real Is often an illusion hiding the truth to reveal. We raid in the night to plunder and steal, Hiding the truth of eyes behind the seventh veil.
Sometimes life hides us away, There in the self-imprisoned darkness. We'd like daylight to come and stay, But other times call for harshness.
The past we didn't want to know We remember better than we thought we did. It strains at us like an 8mm picture show. Despite names and labels, we can't keep truth hid.
All that we think we know as real Is often an illusion hiding the truth to reveal. We raid in the night to plunder and steal, Hiding the truth of eyes behind the seventh veil.
Tears flash into a swift flowing flood, An oasis can hold onto too much sorrow. Afghani sandals get stuck in time's mud Fleeing from every yesterday's tomorrow.
An old man sits in his shadowed contemplation Holding on to what he thought he knew yesterday. Is this life real or only tatters of imagination? The why of why things happen, only fools can say.
All that we think we know as real Is often an illusion hiding the truth to reveal. We raid in the night to plunder and steal, Hiding the truth of eyes behind the seventh veil.
Afghanistan - she is often called - As the heartbeat of an unconquerable nation. And while a fortress might eventually fall, No one, but itself, can really conquer a true nation.
We want to believe, and we do at the start, In all the fairytales that share the good. We cling to this n our heart of hearts - To something we only hoped would be understood.
All that we think we know as real Is often an illusion hiding the truth to reveal. We raid in the night to plunder and steal, Hiding the truth of eyes behind the seventh veil.
(c)March 23, 2026 Michael Doyle All Rights Reserved
“The fact that millions of people share the same vices does not make these vices virtues, the fact that they share so many errors does not make the errors to be truths, and the fact that millions of people share the same form of mental pathology does not make these people sane.” – Erich Fromm
The surplus of gain is met In ways that are nothing but net. Fifty-two held to the Lord's plan, Living life as only the faithful can.
Giving the Lord our deference, We run our race with perseverance. Living this way in our living day, We influence our world in this way.
God's son was allowed to perish, Giving eternal life, we might cherish. The Living Word, we each have been given, To face this world in which we are living.
The Apostle John helped heal the rift, So that each of us might understand the gift. Lying down our lives and giving all, When we heeded the Lord's merciful call.
The Gospels can be seen as snapshots of love. From these, we learn the ways of the above. John wrote to provide us all with an explanation For all believed about our Lord's resurrection.
Purposeful and filled with illumination, Deity and humanity required explanation. Given in moments of fullness and inspiration, John's words reveal what it is to be a Christian.
John helped make us certain of Jesus' identity, Teaching the Bread of Life with its sanctity. Seven "I Am" statements are given to clarify, Crushing and pressing us to extract our humanity.
The Gospel Story turns lives around To be born again with a true connection found. Born again like a conversion at the well, Where we learn our souls were meant to dwell.
God desires that we all become as if one, Like the triune God, His will be done. The heavenly skies were split by this door, Seeking only through this voice's light to be more.
We remain like ourselves, only somehow different As we've changed our lives, we've become reverent. This then is how it is to be born again. We become holier than we once were then.
Stuck with being blind, lame, and paralyzed, We work our way without being overanalyzed. We are humbled into our greatest humility, And we learn of God's love for all of humanity.
We are reminded to not give in and backslide, Losing our way in our many sins and our pride. Jesus never gives up on our cause, Regardless of how we slip up about His laws.
On Patmos, John wrote out Revelation, Centered on what will be our godly destination. War, tension, and strife are yet to come As we prepare for our Father's coming kingdom.
Fully God and yet walking in the guise of humanity. The end times are not spoken of out of vanity. But a calling out of what is yet to come As you and I take our part in the kingdom.
It's captivating to know that we're still living. The Lord continues to call on us to keep giving. There are dreams to fulfill across our Christian nation. We must do our part until time's completion.
There are things to be done in His service, Living out our lives to His full purposes. This is the triumph of God's holy grace, Receiving all of our lives in His loving embrace.
(c) March 22, 2026 Michael Doyle All Rights Reserved
Love, respect, and mutuality Are words thrown around with meaning. They add up to the commonality Of life relatable to human beings.
Do we choose love on purpose? Or is love a beautiful accident? I don't mean to do love a disservice But it seems it's often a matter of coincident.
It is a matter of things coming together, And then, as if by magic, life feels better. We who believe in romance find this provident. It feels to us as if love is heaven-sent.
Smiles shared often lead to friendly laughter, And that's charming for here-ever-after. Mutuality requires patience in our affection, And this then helps build our connection.
Those we love change weakness into strength, And this is amazing at the end of a day's length. We find life best when our lover is our ally, As it makes for the goodness of life, we cannot deny.
It is a matter of things coming together, And then, as if by magic, life feels better. We who believe in romance find this provident. It feels to us as if love is heaven-sent.
If the one we love can make good from our bad, Maybe then, life can be happier than feeling sad? And if in our lover we have someone who can conceive The best in us is then what they happily believe.
We find that a life well lived is less lonely, And the truth of this makes us smile as we think only That when tomorrow comes, we will be there with our one This is, after all, the best of life said and done.
It is a matter of things coming together, And then, as if by magic, life feels better. We who believe in romance find this provident. It feels to us as if love is heaven-sent.
(c) March 21, 2026 Michael Doyle All Rights Reserved
“You will accomplish more by kind words and a courteous manner than by anger or sharp rebuke, which should never be used except in necessity.” – Angela Merici
“Now more than ever the people are responsible for the character of their Congress. If that body be ignorant, reckless, and corrupt, it is because the people tolerate ignorance, recklessness, and corruption. If it be intelligent, brave, and pure, it is because the people demand these high qualities to represent them in the national legislature. . . . If the next centennial does not find us a great nation . . . it will be because those who represent the enterprise, the culture, and the morality of the nation do not aid in controlling the political forces.” – James Garfield
Waking up from the Summer of Love by Michael Doyle
Love is more than sexual annexation, And maybe that's why some hold vexation, That's what passes off as animalistic desire Comes off cold and in need of some fire.
Love and lust are more than curiosity. Tactless plays at desire hold no chemistry. It takes the obvious need for connection, And it is so much deeper than a juvenile erection.
It seems some find it a fragrant mystery, The Summer of Love has lost its intensity. They seek romance and get degeneration, It's the futility of an enraged generation.
Too often, the elements of romance are missing. It takes more than groping and excitable kissing. The dirty hippy generation with their love-ins, Only got to the commission and omissions of sins.
The question of what love truly is was a question They only approached with the most juvenile hesitation. When a generation by and large finds romance just for fun, The premise of finding love is a stuck fork of being done.
It seems some find it a fragrant mystery, The Summer of Love has lost its intensity. They seek romance and get degeneration, It's the futility of an enraged generation.
Sex, money, and endless mental-health struggles Are the latest rage, and love isn't in this jungle. Sadly, love and intimacy bring the truest equality. Without romance, there cannot be the needed intimacy.
The scripts and cues of the romantic relationship, Has been lost in the hub where all fall for worship. However deviant and skewered by what leads to sorrow, If love doesn't get its mojo back, there's no tomorrow.
It seems some find it a fragrant mystery, The Summer of Love has lost its intensity. They seek romance and get degeneration, It's the futility of an enraged generation.
(c) March 20, 2026 Michael Doyle All Rights Reserved
Heading out of Australia to escape this Aussie winter. First stop Japan, then UK/Ireland and if work doesn't call me back, onto Chicago. I will make it up as I go along
ALOHA PROMISES FOREVER 