because he follows the adage:
"love thy neighbor as thyself"
In general, he believes and acts to: love, not hate. Charity and generosity and kindness; give away whatever you have to those who have not; be charitable in interpreting the actions of others. Your neighbors are your friends and allies. There are no enemies. There is no heavenly value to earthly wealth. Whatever is in your pockets, weighs you down.
Hegseth was right: shed weight, become light, and so you will ascend.
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against the modern world
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All my brothers locked down, the sound of lighters,
of bottle openers, bottles popped alone
that foam and spill across the empty wide
expanse of kitchen floors unmopped. A home
in name but not in deed, indeed a jail
that native sons know well, a reservation
held in reserve, revisiting the names
inscribed on birth certificates, a nation
of orphans stumbling in twilight. Is hope
obscene to our imagination, or can
we dream a fiery green without dull smoke
and scour clean our hearts, as we have our hands,
’til double twenty penitence is done,
emerge absolved in twenty twenty one?
against the modern world
Saturday, October 18, 2025
Monday, April 8, 2024
ed piskor
if words now are as deeds
deserved of analogous retribution
then his DMs were indeed criminal
but his accusers’ words were as a lynching
and so their acts likewise contemptible
and their guise of virtue forfeit
Friday, December 31, 2021
new year’s eve sonnet
(for MKI, as always)
Hey Omicron: the letter of the hour!
You’ve brought another covid Christmas: who’d
have thought lightning could strike again so soon?
but never mind, we’ve foiled your plot to sour
our Stollen — hopped the last of the outbound flights
to paradise, where naked hugs and sweaty
dancing are de rigueur, the restaurants ready
for parties of ten plus, no rez required!
’course we’re not all so lucky: lockdown wounds
are here to stay; while absent friends on screens
remain; let’s hope tonight to drown our blues
in toasts to family lost, who flock our dreams
like larks at dusk, ’til waking see anew
the chance for change in twenty-twenty two.
Hey Omicron: the letter of the hour!
You’ve brought another covid Christmas: who’d
have thought lightning could strike again so soon?
but never mind, we’ve foiled your plot to sour
our Stollen — hopped the last of the outbound flights
to paradise, where naked hugs and sweaty
dancing are de rigueur, the restaurants ready
for parties of ten plus, no rez required!
’course we’re not all so lucky: lockdown wounds
are here to stay; while absent friends on screens
remain; let’s hope tonight to drown our blues
in toasts to family lost, who flock our dreams
like larks at dusk, ’til waking see anew
the chance for change in twenty-twenty two.
Tuesday, July 27, 2021
Thursday, December 31, 2020
new year’s eve sonnet
All my brothers locked down, the sound of lighters,
of bottle openers, bottles popped alone
that foam and spill across the empty wide
expanse of kitchen floors unmopped. A home
in name but not in deed, indeed a jail
that native sons know well, a reservation
held in reserve, revisiting the names
inscribed on birth certificates, a nation
of orphans stumbling in twilight. Is hope
obscene to our imagination, or can
we dream a fiery green without dull smoke
and scour clean our hearts, as we have our hands,
’til double twenty penitence is done,
emerge absolved in twenty twenty one?
Sunday, August 25, 2019
Sunday, June 23, 2019
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against the modern world
"I slept with Faith, and found a corpse in my arms on awaking; I drank and danced all night with Doubt, and found her a virgin in the morning."
~ Crowley
"We should not let ourselves be burnt for our opinions: we are not that sure of them. But perhaps for this: that we may have and change our opinions."
~ Nietzsche
~ Crowley
"We should not let ourselves be burnt for our opinions: we are not that sure of them. But perhaps for this: that we may have and change our opinions."
~ Nietzsche
Blog Archive
- horus kemwer
- city of evil, state of sin, United States
- The great black one descended from on high to devour civilization. Instead, however, he spat us out; our core had become too rotten even for the stomach of the destructor.