The Royal Court of Public Opinions

You dance and laugh

At your pyre of opinion

Burning the guilty and innocent alike

With great joy you listen

For the cracking of their bones

At your pyre in the Royal Court of Public Opinion

What could be righter than the judgment you feel just?

Throw them to the pyre and fuel more the fire

It is my opinion that proves the guilt

I need no knowledge; I can see the sin

If it were not so then they would not be in the Pyre

At the Royal Court of Public Opinion.

But lurking in the dark, waiting for their turn are the ones who hate

The Royal Court of Public Opinion.

These monsters are the nightmare that seek to undo

The lies and the evil that this court worships around

And when the time is right, and you have had your fill

They will come into the Royal Court of Public Opinion

With humble words and tiny voices they will accuse you

They will give the evidence when you scream lies

And in that Royal Court of Public Opinion

all those who laughed and danced

Will feel the cold grip of justice

When in your final breath we, who love truth,

will lean in and whisper “guilty”

when we plunge our dagger of truth into your heart.

Then throw your body into the pyre to fuel the fire,

At The Royal Court of Public Opinion.

HEY! What is that?

Have you ever forgotten you had something?  Like a blog?  This blog.   I forgot.  OOPS! 

update

I am reviewing this site and working to begin publishing again.

Treacher

No lie is quite so bitter as the lie your friend believes. Yet, I stand and watch as those who proclaim the truth, fall to lies and evil. We pretend and those around believe your little play...but I am here, waiting, watching. No lie is quite so bitter as the lie that births treachery in the heart of my friends. For that, The Cold Killer awaits you in your deepest dreams.

This war has been on the horizon for years and I tried to warn you.  Why do you choose to ignore wisdom?  Do you see yourself as intelligent?  You are not.  You are just another sickly goat in sheep's clothing.  I reach for you to help and change your evil nature.  You pull away and proclaim your understanding and intelligence.  But when the poison worked its way you lashed out and hurt everyone around you.  Are you so blind?  Yes.  But we are all blind, seeing what we can see and ignoring the blight in our own souls.  The sight to see that you are blind is the beginning to killing the treacherer in you, for that imp will die and if you fail to separate it from you, your fates will be tied.  For their is only one price for treachery, Death

Resulting

Stress is the result of resulting results resulting in results that are not conducive to the results you want. 

Why

Why?

Becareful

Be careful the lies you tell. 
Someone may hear them and decide to make them true. 
In fulfilling your worst nightmares, make you a truthsayer when all you wanted was to tell the lies. 
Bound up in the spotlight but never free to heal your wounds. 
Getting all you wanted but not what you needed. 
Be careful the lies you tell. 
You may hear them and decide they are truth.

Reality

What is, is. 
What isn't, isn't. 
Your beliefs bear no effect on either. 
What is real will always be and that which we see rarely is real. 
Perceived reality is the greatest liar ever to be and for the few that see reality as it is, that fleeting glimpse, they are ever changed and can not suffer the egocentric dance of self-delusion.

What I learned from my father

Here is a nugget I found from the past.  It was written a few years ago and is unfininshed but I felt I should post the original up as it stands on it's own with out the closing.  Enjoy!
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At the age of eleven I started working summers with my father. Mostly I scrubbed mats, tires and washed cars but it was work and I was paid for it like any other laborer. It was the worst of times in South Louisiana and this was the bottom for the economy. That environment would shape who I would become decades later but more so It would shape the man my father would become to me. Every morning my father woke up very early, made his coffee and sat down to read his bible and promise book then pray. One morning I awoke to hear his low crying, something was different. His prayer that day will always stick with me: “Lord, If I am going down, I’m going down on your word”. I was never the same after that day. God did arrive, at the last second in a way no one would have dreamt. A phone call from my Uncle, His brother, with the long term answer to his problem. I do not have a problem with believing God can rescue me. I have seen first hand what God can do and My father was willing to hold on when all seemed lost. It took many years to dig his way out but God is faithful and the family made it.




Lesson 1: Never let go of God, ever.



Around the age of 12 to 13 I had my loss of mental cohesion phase, AKA Stupid. I got into trouble twice in a few month period and my father dealt with it differently the second time than he did the first time. For six months I managed to weave a story of why I never had homework. It was a good story, very believable. All lies. The most important rule of lying is to never let the people you are lying about ever speak to the people who you are lying to. This is Paramount, failure to do this will result in pain. Trust me on this one. My teacher, tired of me never having my homework decided to drag me to the office and call my parents. My father picked up the phone and my life as a homework free biped with the ability to walk without a limp was over. My poor teacher tried to smooth it over but she had opened Pandora’s box and all types of evil were about to ensue amongst my rear end and anything that got in the way. I know what inmates being walked to the electric chair feel like. That was the longest walk from the bus stop of my life. There is a difference between a beating and a spanking. Spanking involves metered swats and explaining to the child what he did wrong. It is kind of like having tea with a side of stinking backside. Beatings involve the child fully knowing what they did was wrong and the wrath of Daddy is about to be poured out. More of a angel open the scroll, water turns to blood and you are praying for the rapture or death to come now. The rapture did not occur. Death did not embrace me for the fear of getting hit with that belt. THE BELT. A steel belt from a tire wrapped in leather from an ancient brahma bull that was harvested at the full moon on the 3rd day. Indestructible justice. I paid the price for my sins that day and I deserved it and more but he had to go back outside and finish working.

Lesson 2: Be careful what you plant because the harvest you get may not be what you wanted.



The second Time I got in trouble involved the Police. I knew I was not going to be found when he was done. My Mother came and got me from the Police station because I assumed he didn’t want any witnesses for this slaughter that was to be the end of my short life. I got out the car and walked towards the house but He looked up and I caught the look in his eyes. It wasn’t anger or rage. It was total disappointment. I wish he would have beat me ten times for what I did that day. He never spoke of it to me but the look in his eyes broke the stupidity off my life. I had hurt him so deeply and It had never occurred to me that I was hurting him. Deep down I still think that beating is coming. He just hasn’t found a belt with sharp enough spikes yet.



Lesson 3: There are things worse than physical pain.



These are the three principles that laid the foundation for the real lessons in my life.

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Heavy Heart

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Heavy heart and bristled mind, I fear we may be short on time.


I saw the end and you were there but missed the mark with lack of care.

This warning gave I to you did twice before this world puts you on ice.

But time is still here and change you may, Before the end of this dark day.

And if you heed this cryptic lyric, there will be no need in life to fear it.
 
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Need to Write

I guess it is time to start writing again.  Cycles I guess.  My latest subject has been real vs percieved reality and the dance we do between the two.  We all twist reality to fit our wants.  At some point the two must be rectified and when that happens it is a violent ordeal.  Every action has a reaction and sometimes the reaction is delayed so that we get groups of reactions in close succesion at a later time.  These are the times we feel that the world is attacking us.  I call that time for me ages 5 through 36. 

Mankind is a disease

After the events of the last few days I have come to the conclusion that mankind needs to be eradicated.   Press the button and make it all stop.  I am tired of the stupidity.

Book Review: The Bride Collector

As with most of Dekkers other crime works it leans toward the dark and mentally insane.  Having read many of those works I have to say this work is stronger than most of his earlier.  The characters are better fleshed out and the storyline is linear.  Also I found myself identifying with both the hero and the antagonist.  The fact that both of them were deeply screwed up people does not show me in a good light.  Final verdict: Get this book, good read, good story.

Movie Review: Faster

I will keep this short.  While the movie was enjoyable from a visceral aspect, it was the same story retold.  Person A gets royally screwed by persons B-L.  Person A gets cool weapons and kills persons B through L.  Kill Bill did it well and this is a poor shadow of that story.  My advice is to skip Faster and rent Kill Bill parts 1 and 2.

Festering

I see you festering


Festering with remorse and worry

Worrying about your image

Imagining yourself to be better than you are.



You have become a sore

Sore to everyone around you

You see the truth and it you reject

Rejection has become your security blanket



You are not ready for the whole truth

Truthfully morning your losses

Losing your sanity in a wave of grief

Grieving those who wish to help you leave this horrid place.



Come out and join us

Using the God given talents to uplift

Uplifting your spirit by lifting those around you

Your time is now, Stop Festering.

Bitter lies (Expansion of Cold Killer)

No lie is quite so bitter as the lie your friend believes.




Yet, I stand and watch as those who proclaim the truth, fall to lies and evil. We pretend and those around believe your little play...but I am here, waiting, watching. No lie is quite so bitter as the lie that births treachery in the heart of my friends. For that, The Cold Killer awaits you in your deepest dreams.



This war has been on the horizon for years and I tried to warn you. Why do you choose to ignore wisdom? Do you see yourself as intelligent? You are not. You are just another sickly goat in sheep’s clothing. I reach for you to help and change your evil nature. You pull away and proclaim your understanding and intelligence. But when the poison worked its way you lashed out and hurt everyone around you. Are you so blind? Yes. But we are all blind, seeing what we can see and ignoring the blight in our own souls. The sight to see that you are blind is the beginning to killing the treacheries in you, for that imp will die and if you fail to separate it from you your fates will be joined. For there is only one price for treachery, Death, but not as you suppose.



Can you hear it? It comes and hunts for you with its ever present stalking. What is it?



A poison that kills

With no remorse

It destroys all that stands

And mocks you as it passes by

In horror you watch

As your house of cards

Does come crumbling down

Revealing for all to see

The weakness of your master design





It kills your hopes

Your dreams

Your reality

It rips and rents you

Shredding

Tearing

Murderous rage in its lone eye

Bloodlust consuming it

It is the most feared beast in all the world

The most lethal venom dripping off its glistening fangs

Truth is its name

And a world of pain is the reward for your lies

Comfort In a wafer

I sit at my party of one


Basking in the glow of my self loathing

Seeking comfort

You are there

Waiting in our secret place

The high place

You invite a friend to come with you

I go pick you up for our private party

We enter my room and I can’t wait to get to you

Your insides call me to lick you out

You are my Peanut butter wafer and cold glass of milk

My comfort in a wafer.

The Valley (Single post)

Railing






I stand at the valley staring into the darkness, railing against the inevitable. I was the first of many, but the last of few. One to bring....one to take. One to destroy, one to restore. One, Two, or Four? The question has been made, who dares answer?

Love or hate...predestined fate?

Or self guided ship in sea of grief?

The question has been made, who dares answer?









The Intolerable



I over look the Valley, It has become so familiar to me and I know not what is to be done.



I hear your beguiling sneers, your words of death, to kill me, to rent me as cloth.

I cry in my quite places

To never be brought to light

I see a distant light

Fading or growing

The darkness comes over me

I see no light

Only pain

The comfort of that which I know

The betrayal of that which has always been there

To slay it

To stay it

From killing my soul

Light again

Only to reveal my tears, my pain?

Oh Lord where is your power?

Where is my conviction?

I need not of darkness

Be it banished

Yet not is this to be?

Darkness and pain

The words come back and rip into my heart……………..YOU ARE NOT AS WE

So you distance that which is different,

Better?

Stronger?

I do not threaten you?? Do I?

I see what cannot be seen.

Know what cannot be known.

I am what cannot be; yet here I stand.

Accused, abused, confused, and diffused.

I understand, which is my crime,

But in understanding am I confused as to why.

They are coming

They want to destroy all that is me

HE CAN NOT BE TOLERATED

I wish to know not

To see not

To be not

My prayers fall to the ground as empty

They are here

Lord save me

They thrust their accusations into me, piercing me

Blood flows from my wound

They look upon me as the deserving of my fate

More accusation and I am pierced again and again

Why?

Help?

Cold?

I want to feel.

To live

To be among the living, the normal, the accusers

Am I one of they?

Et to?

My soul grows cold

The words have done what is to be done

Darkness comes over me, cold, dieing, HELP.

I know again, in this dieing time, that my weakness is caring

Feeling what should be left unfelt

Helping what should be unhelped

In this time, I chose to die

Die a death of pain and murder at the hands of all I care for and of

Die a death of feeling and knowing.

Rather than live a life of ignorance and cold.

So I look into the eyes of my accusers, my murderers and shed my last tear

For they

My last breath saying it is OK

Et to?



The valley, the valley, my blood spills into the valley, into the darkness once again.













The Recendence



Blood stained ground

Valley of bones

Blood does feed it

Life reborn

They have left

Having done their deeds

To kill is for safely

To live is for fear

They came to take life

Take joy

Take skill

Instead they brought doom

To the heads of all they lay dear

For in the moment when vicious tear flesh

They see not it is

Of themselves they do kill

In my death they died

In their life I live

And again I ask the question

Do I threaten you? Surely I do not.

Malficient heap of mangled dumb

Speech of commons and slowness of tongue

Walk of simple

Run of the weak

How can this be?

This man of such weakness

Yet again

Here I am

Clumsily banging at the keys of this box

Begging for God to come and to change me

His message the same

I made you

It is you

All I wanted was to be loved and accepted

All I could do was to mumble and be spastic

Can I threaten you?

Surely not!

I have died a thousand times

A thousand ways

Each time

A little part of me

Not returning to life

A little part, will it be your part, dieing every day

So I stand up

Pulling the accusations out of me

Reliving the pain of being murdered one more time

Watching as my blood

Gives life to the dry bones of fear and ignorance

Hopefully giving them the life I lost

So that one-day they too can walk

No longer being the dry bones of fear

But the beast of security and knowledge

The pain is so real

So strong

So irrelevant

So I chose to put it away from me, as it never happened



I look out over a blood stained valley

Unsure what happened here

They are walking away in the distance

I must run and catch they

They might like my company with them.

For surely

Man as I am

I do not threaten them.



















Original work by:

Jeremy D. Breaux

The Recendence

Blood stained ground


Valley of bones

Blood does feed it

Life reborn

They have left

Having done their deeds

To kill is for safely

To live is for fear

They came to take life

Take joy

Take skill

Instead they brought doom

To the heads of all they lay dear

For in the moment when vicious tear flesh

They see not it is

Of themselves they do kill

In my death they died

In their life I live

And again I ask the question

Do I threaten you? Surely I do not.

Malficient heap of mangled dumb

Speech of commons and slowness of tongue

Walk of simple

Run of the weak

How can this be?

This man of such weakness

Yet again

Here I am

Clumsily banging at the keys of this box

Begging for God to come and to change me

His message the same

I made you

It is you

All I wanted was to be loved and accepted

All I could do was to mumble and be spastic

Can I threaten you?

Surely not!

I have died a thousand times

A thousand ways

Each time

A little part of me

Not returning to life

A little part, will it be your part, dieing every day

So I stand up

Pulling the accusations out of me

Reliving the pain of being murdered one more time

Watching as my blood

Gives life to the dry bones of fear and ignorance

Hopefully giving them the life I lost

So that one-day they too can walk

No longer being the dry bones of fear

But the beast of security and knowledge

The pain is so real

So strong

So irrelevant

So I chose to put it away from me, as it never happened



I look out over a blood stained valley

Unsure what happened here

They are walking away in the distance

I must run and catch they

They might like my company with them.

For surely

Man as I am

I do not threaten them.

The Intolerable

I over look the Valley, It has become so familiar to me and I know not what is to be done.

I hear your beguiling sneers, your words of death, to kill me, to rent me as cloth.

I cry in my quite places

To never be brought to light

I see a distant light

Fading or growing

The darkness comes over me

I see no light

Only pain

The comfort of that which I know

The betrayal of that which has always been there

To slay it

To stay it

From killing my soul

Light again

Only to reveal my tears, my pain?

Oh Lord where is your power?

Where is my conviction?

I need not of darkness

Be it banished

Yet not is this to be?

Darkness and pain

The words come back and rip into my heart……………..YOU ARE NOT AS WE

So you distance that which is different,

Better?

Stronger?

I do not threaten you?? Do I?

I see what cannot be seen.

Know what cannot be known.

I am what cannot be; yet here I stand.

Accused, abused, confused, and diffused.

I understand, which is my crime,

But in understanding am I confused as to why.

They are coming

They want to destroy all that is me

HE CAN NOT BE TOLERATED

I wish to know not

To see not

To be not

My prayers fall to the ground as empty

They are here

Lord save me

They thrust their accusations into me, piercing me

Blood flows from my wounds

They look upon me as the deserving of my fate

More accusation and I am pierced again and again

Why?

Help?

Cold?

I want to feel.

To live

To be among the living, the normal, the accusers

Am I one of they?

Et to?

My soul grows cold

The words have done what is to be done

Darkness comes over me, cold, dieing, HELP.

I know again, in this dieing time, that my weakness is caring

Feeling what should be left unfelt

Helping what should be unhelped

In this time, I chose to die

Die a death of pain and murder at the hands of all I care for and of

Die a death of feeling and knowing.

Rather than live a life of ignorance and cold.

So I look into the eyes of my accusers, my murderers and shed my last tear

For they

My last breath saying it is OK

Et to?



The valley, the valley, my blood spills into the valley, into the darkness once again.