When forever is over Let's not fade into zero. Crippled, like a soul bent over, Tomorrow is looking for its hero.
Setting heaven on fire, We cut and run, prospecting for sorrow. There's an interference known as desire. I hope it gets us to our tomorrow.
The Oracle plays its projection, Pretending to know the future. Reaching conclusions, we find rejection Of all those things we sought to nurture.
We run, lost in the forest shadow, Unable, as we are, to find the way out Up this creek without our paddle, We reach for certainty and only find doubt.
The full moon shines in its last play. With any luck, our fortunes won't be terminal. There is no Godmode to show us the way. Our clearest thoughts are feeling subliminal.
The Oracle plays its projection, Pretending to know the future. Reaching conclusions, we find rejection Of all those things we sought to nurture.
All the love in the world has no teeth. We called for joy but held on to grief. Finding out that love is not enough. We hung on a lifeline, only knowing our bluff.
Between two points, we're just as lost. Blind ally trust sinks us into what's unknown. Guessing at things that have strategic cost. Always the last to know, this truth has shown.
The Oracle plays its projection, Pretending to know the future. Reaching conclusions, we find rejection Of all those things we sought to nurture.
(c) March 6, 2026 Michael Doyle All Rights Reserved
“The law established by the Creator, which has existed from the beginning, extends over the whole globe, is everywhere and at all times binding upon mankind.” – Rufus King
Look at what the Lord has done. He's gone and set me free. By the power of the Father and the Son. Their truth brings our liberty.
Here through my famished dignity, I experience my damaged humanity. Serious business finished on the cross, I have gained much through sacrificial loss.
His is the kingdom and the glory. We are part of this holy story. I stand as part of His creation, Looking at His stars with fascination.
I am impressed by the blessings that I receive, And by His power, I am steadfast as I believe. It's fantastic that one so very holy Would take notice of a wretch like me.
Within His blessed echo, I step out of His shadow. And now I'm sure of how to go As I let God's love flow.
(c) March 5, 2026 Michael Doyle All Rights Reserved
“Power is the great evil with which we are contending. We have divided power between three branches of government and erected checks and balances to prevent abuse of power. However, where is the check on the power of the judiciary? If we fail to check the power of the judiciary, I predict that we will eventually live under judicial tyranny.” – Patrick Henry
The quest for wisdom is one for which we yearn, There is so much of life that even as we learn, We cannot help but see for ourselves as we analyze, There is so much more than we see with our own eyes.
In the rugged decisions that life's judge gaveled, There are roads seen and others we've seldom traveled. Spirit informs and shapes the soul of all that matters. Regardless of our strength, this world spurts and shatters.
Still, as we look at ourselves under the newborn sun, We see new potential while seeing that yesterday is done. Stagnation or moving on, we speak our truth to power, And you and I will make the best of our passing hours.
We look unblinkingly into the harshest of our reality, Holding strongly to the truth to not allow its fatality. Words come, go, and pass into the night of rationalization, And one by one, they align until we form American civilization.
Partly orthodoxy, and partly heresy as each has occurred, But neither holds all the cards of mercy followed by the herd. It is the rumble buzz of being acquainted with the night, In the peaceful stars, we find the inspiration of neon lights.
Still, as we look at ourselves under the newborn sun, We see new potential while seeing that yesterday is done. Stagnation or moving on, we speak our truth to power, And you and I will make the best of our passing hours.
It is the struggle to fortify ourselves against tragedy That forms the strands of courage that build society. The beauty of our dreams takes away our self-deception And through this, we find our way to our consolation.
In this triumphant respite, we manage to overcome despair And find our way together toward a nation of due care. It is this faith in mankind that forms the lines of poetry That confines our souls into our well-intentioned humility.
Still, as we look at ourselves under the newborn sun, We see new potential while seeing that yesterday is done. Stagnation or moving on, we speak our truth to power, And you and I will make the best of our passing hours.
(c) March 4, 2026 Michael Doyle All Rights Reserved
“My first wish is, to see this plague of mankind banished from the earth, and the sons and daughters of this world employed in more pleasing and innocent amusements, than in preparing implements, and exercising them, for the destruction of mankind.” – George Washington
“In ancient China, the Taoists taught that a constant inner smile, a smile to oneself, insured health, happiness and longevity. Why? Smiling to yourself is like basking in love: you become your own best friend. Living with an inner smile is to live in harmony with yourself.”- Mantak Chia
The mourning after is brought by its happy day. Maybe it amounts to the memory kept, and by the way. How do I keep you today, hoping for our tomorrow, Without my smile, sometimes slipping into sorrow.
If I should ever lose the love of your promise, It would not be something I could easily dismiss. There's an obvious justice trapped in my tragedy Of looking into your eyes and witnessing your majesty.
Late nights spent with too many voices, God knows my ADHD gives too many choices. Able to hear a dog whistle with my ears, Yours is the voice I need for all my years.
Rock, paper, scissors, we're only passing through. All the same, I believe only you will ever do. Time has its way of feigning its much ado. Some of the best lies told were earnestly true.
The clouds that never rain fadeaway too soon, Like spoken dreams shared under the orphan moon. Gathered pieces only hope to make the heart whole, But they can't help the void you would leave in my soul.
Late nights spent with too many voices, God knows my ADHD gives too many choices. Able to hear a dog whistle with my ears, Yours is the voice I need for all my years.
Imagination reaches its dramatic intensity, And I find myself thunderstruck with the immensity. I gaze into the rising sun and its temptation, Wondering if your kiss and touch were my initiation.
My lines of poetry seek to justify their development, Thoughts kept inside seek your touch for nourishment. Dazed though I am at your rebuff, love is still the light, And my love for you burns like an ember of what's right.
Late nights spent with too many voices, God knows my ADHD gives too many choices. Able to hear a dog whistle with my ears, Yours is the voice I need for all my years.
(c) March 3, 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 