In 700 AD, the Picts and the Gaels divided Scotland As if that were something natural to command No force on Earth could unite these kingdoms To think that possible is sheer bedlam
The impossible doesn't stop hearts from trying But power is a hunger that leaves all crying Despite a love of peace always leading desire All of this went up in a vengeful fire
As an old king dies and grants his son his throne Having to be hard as a rock with a heart of stone Stealing away into the pitch dark of night The new king without his kingdom vows to make it right
The right to reign signified is to be kept hidden In a brooch that must not be seen as it is forbidden By those who betrayed their discarded solemn vow A need for vengeance screams; he'll make it right somehow
(c) August 27, 2020 Michael Doyle All Rights Reserved
“Our country is in danger, but not to be despaired of. Our enemies are numerous and powerful; but we have many friends, determining to be free, and heaven and earth will aid the resolution. On you depend the fortunes of America. You are to decide the important question, on which rest the happiness and liberty of millions yet unborn. Act worthy of yourselves.” – Joseph Warren (1775)
Remembering back to the 80s when I couldn't wait to put another quarter in A video star in the dark arcade Was a revolution ready made
My spaces were invaded rows at a time When I wasn't watching ectoplasmic slime Atari-ized as we were bouncing off walls These were good times as I recall
But it should never be forgot That at the time, society felt people should not be shot A war of the worlds sketched out in concept Becomes the relic of ages subject to neglect
Patterns visualized into speculating Theories of stratagem were percolating Once crowned kings of the rows of the arcade We hung out in the depths of the Starcade
Achieving high scores would make some squeal But for nearly all of us, that was the appeal One that as we played again and again for more We found nearly impossible to ignore
Caught up in that magical flow Brushed into the video game's glow Electronic design boomed in evolution As the games grew into our own revelation
From a sliced pizza, Pac Man appeared In a saucy slice that become revered Bundled cuteness with its hungry mouth For the women, removed all remaining doubt
Reversed engineering for bangles of glitz Caused established patterns to meet new tricks World changing technology would continue to refine As the worlds charge by continuous design
Booms boom until thy tilt into bust The game leverage lost its trust And just as suddenly, this world was gone The urge to game wasn't over, it just moved on
(c) August 26, 2020 Michael Doyle All Rights Reserved
“We value and respect every black life. The black cops who have been shot in the line of duty, they matter. The black small business owners who have watched their life’s work go up in flames, they matter. The black kids who’ve been gunned down on the playground, their lives matter too. And their lives are being ruined and stolen by the violence on our streets.” – Nikki Haley
Ms. Haley went on to say:
Drawing on her experience after Dylann Roof’s killing spree at the Mother Emanuel AME Church, Haley argued that the best response to racist violence is to come together.
“After that horrific tragedy, we didn’t turn against each other. We came together, black and white, Democrat and Republican,” she said.
The seventh son of the seventh son Knows he has no choice but to be the one Who in accord with ancient prophecy Must rise above to embrace his legacy
The tales told are things quite legendary Pressing him to greatness so extraordinary Yet, all that he needs is deep inside This the whisper offered as his believer confides
Urging him to be courageous and wise As he feels the warmth of love in their eyes Rowing to offshore, he begins his journey Safety, alas, is not to be his destiny
Evil sees good as a dangerous thing Hiding in shadows from the light and all it brings Every good and holy knight knows his duty To vanquish darkness despite its alluring beauty
Darkling ghosts hide within decrepit castle walls Awaiting the summoner's beckon call As the continuing journey finds its wretched start The city itself fails mistaken in its heart
There is a certainty in fortunes well told Of how and who will be met again down the road That is the something of how the phrases are put When and where there is wickedness afoot
The queen of darkness has quietly returned This and other lessons will soon be learned The blood moon will and must be fully phased As darkness unleashed will leave the world dazed
(c) August 25, 2020 Michael Doyle All Rights Reserved
“It is the duty of every good citizen to use all the opportunities which occur to him, for preserving documents relating to the history of our country.” – Thomas Jefferson (1823)
In the age of ancient tyranny When Rome had lost its liberty Even a good man might compromise For the partial good seen in his eyes
Though at times, it took its toll To hide his better angels in the shadows Such were the times that it must be done For Rome was never subject to the setting sun
In the final analysis made Correspondence with oneself brings from the shade As epistles one's mortal soul Finding what sense might be made of his role
As Seneca found himself with God, face to face He was confronted with this embrace As a Stoic, he found himself again Where all of reality actually does begin
The proof of God is found in all around Where stars and sea meet and abound Nature provides its able testimony Every breath of life is a blessing from Divinity
In all that happens, God is always showing That mankind might always be knowing The perfection of creation felt in its traces Its natural laws, we've no choice but to embrace
It is a code of absolute right and wrong And the path on which a man best belongs Situational ethics are never the right way Regardless of what moral relativists say
God testifies to this in His Creation Where the universe holds order without deviation The test of evil, whatever its complexity Is that man might grow through facing adversity
Evil can kill, but, it can never destroy good Think of Socrates if only you would So long as you hold true in all your actions And thoughts, a good person knows full satisfaction
Nero might fiddle, but, offers no sonorous play Always the strains of the good bind fast as we pray Never returning evil for evil but keeping to good This is the path of righteousness understood
Death is sometimes greater than life in subjugation We must never allow tyranny to rule our nation It is far greater to die in the name of God and nobility Than to cringe in slavery given oneself to slavery
So to the Stoic, it is and will always be and seem There is no begging for mercy burst at the garment's seam A person of true nobility may yet given their testimony Knowing that God works all for good in His just divinity
(c) August 24, 2020 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
