Archive | June, 2015

Jesus Wasn’t Fat

30 Jun


Jesus Wasn’t Fat

“Fat,” a word that hurts feelings of those with no control
It feels like an attack when said by some skinny bean pole
Even worse when spoken by someone with muscled frame
A word that causes much self-doubt, embarrassment and shame

When heavy folks hear “fat,” most don’t look closer at the speaker
And see the stretch marks that reveal at one time, they were weaker
The ego stings and covers ears and doesn’t want to hear
Life advice from those who sweat the fat off of their rear

I was fat when I was young and never do I hide
The reason why my girth was large, my frankness exceeds pride
I was obese because I lacked control over myself
Overweight because I was oblivious to health

Asleep and unaware to the effects that poor health brings
The lack of energy and focus all ‘cause ego stings
I got over myself and focused on those who were svelte
Warriors who took the punishment that life had dealt

Lean and mean with hard muscle, wiry and flexible
Quick as cats and sly as foxes, intense as a bull
Many men and women that I did admire had
A sharp and focused mind because their brain matter was clad

In toned muscle and working in harmony with the soul
Apostle Paul said how fitness is a spiritual goal:
“Your body is a temple,” from book of Corinthians
Incredible how followers of Christ speak against sins

Like tattoos, piercings, drugs and homosexuality
Yet spilling out over their belt is their hefty decree
That their body is not a temple, just an endless pit
They eat and eat and eat but do not sweat and show true grit

One of the Warriors I studied to inspire me
Was son of God himself, Jesus, the lamb who died for thee
Though we have no photographs or selfies of the Savior
An image can be formed through His teachings and His behavior

And many artists have rendered an idea of His form:
Lean and slender, fit and steady, ready for the storm
No double chin or big belly, the King of Kings was trim
His physical condition wasn’t because of the gym

Jesus walked and walked and walked and walked and walked and walked
And walked and walked and walked and walked and then sometimes He talked
He didn’t sit in chairs all day, He used his legs to move
He knew HE was a temple that would every day improve

With self-control of His diet as well as exercise
He knew that clarity was in proportion to waist size
Somewhere down the road it did become rude, coarse and crude
To tell people they are too fat and need to eat less food

How did being overweight become acceptable
For those who follow one who stopped eating ‘fore He felt full?
How did it become distasteful to say, “Lose some weight”?
How did giving wise advice get skewed as spewing hate?

How did the excuses get accepted with no thought?
“I’ve got an injury, my back hurts and my knees are shot!”
“I’ve got a thyroid issue, I can’t help that I am fat!”
I have more reasons than most do so their stories fall flat

If I can remain thin and trim for over twenty years
Then I’m convinced you can as well if you’d just dry those tears
If you would stop feeling so hurt and instead, focus on
Moving what still works on you, you’d start to grow your brawn

If you would say, “No!” to yourself when those cravings arise
Be ADAMANT and STUBBORN then, like me, you would surmise
That being overweight is choice, it’s more calories swallowed
Than used, it’s inefficiency, a way of life not followed

It’s hoarding more than is needed, it’s lack of awareness
It’s being honest with yourself, not kind but full fairness
Many cannot handle all the truths behind the flab
It makes them sad so they reach for their food to soothe the stab

But truth is something that my King has taught me to not fear
The truth is something I embraced and to which still adhere
My inspiration was not fat and did inspire me
To treat my body as a temple which set my mind free

Despite the pain that courses through my body every day
I choose to move what still works well and that is why I weigh
The same each time I step upon the scale regardless of
What year it is, my temple is something I show much love

By getting blood to flow and by throwing sugar in trash
By eating fruits and vegetables and not wasting my cash
On candy, deep fried dreck and other junk that tastes so “yummy”
That adds nothing to your life other than a flabby tummy

Feelings hurt? That’s no surprise, the lard causes thin skin
But one in one hundred will choose to take it on the chin
They’ll hear the truth and do the work to own and renovate
Their temple and they’ll owe it to wisdom instead of hate


Coping Skills

29 Jun

Coping Skills

Society has given us convenience at great cost
The price of instant luxury: our coping skills are lost
Everything takes seconds now, and if we’re forced to wait
Most reveal that patience now is an endangered trait

Sighs and grumbles, gripes and moans, whines and bellyaches
Majority of people just do not have what it takes
To recognize, adapt, accept and formulate a plan
They’re children who did not grow up, among them not one man

Little Billy and Jimmy and Timmy, Bobby too
Crying on their mommy’s shoulder when they all felt blue
The years went by, their hair turned grey and their bellies did grow
But all they say when they choose stress is, “Yeah, I know, I know”

Parents, how ‘bout something new? Instead of teaching tykes
To wear a boo-boo face and cry whenever distress strikes
How ‘bout kneeling down and saying, “Look me in the eye
Focus, hear my voice and listen, pay attention, try

Things will happen in your life, you can’t control that, lad
But what most will not teach you is it’s your CHOICE to be mad
It’s your CHOICE to be upset, sad, to dwell on what took place
And that means it can be your CHOICE to be different: choose grace”

How many children were taught in face of angst and pain
To not indulge their self-pity and instead, urged to train?
How many were taught to not fear things that cut them deep?
How many were taught to listen, feel and learn, not weep?

Coping skills weren’t taught because the parents didn’t cope
Whiners and complainers rear adults who stress and mope
Done so innocently, playfully blaming that chair
That banged Bobby’s poor knee, that nasty furniture! There, there

Training children every day to give power to things
That hurt instead of raising Warriors and Queens and Kings
Teaching them there is no task, no challenge and no person
Who has the strength to make their iron will and focus worsen

Thank you, pop, for teaching me, “It IS what it IS, son”
Not pandering to my ego showed me what must be done
Eyes wide open, ears attuned and focus is acute
Ready to adapt, accept and unleash my large boot


Mr. Popular

26 Jun

Mr. Popular

Hi there, Miss, how was your day, my my, what a fine coat!
And hello Sir, good day to you, nice hat I’d like to note
And who’s this little tyke with you? What a sparkling smile!
And dressed so well! It’s obvious your parents have fine style

Hello madam, nice to meet you, gosh, what lovely hair!
So smooth and silky, what great sheen! Magnificent, I swear!
Oh hi there mister, what a firm handshake that you possess
A sign of real strong character and boldness, I confess

Wow, you like that song as well? You have such lovely taste!
Oh, you’re looking great, my friend, with that newly thinned waist
You liked that movie? So did I! It was such a great tale!
Wow, you’re fast! You make me feel like I am just a snail!

Look at all the smiling faces, heck, you’re a fine bunch!
I’d love to have you over to my house some day for brunch
Keep in touch, I’d love to know how your thing goes next week
Let’s do lunch, oh you don’t say! My favourite too is Greek!

Yup, I’m just like you, the same in every single way
Count on me to never disagree or to say “nay”
So say hi to your family for me, give them my best
May God watch over you and may you be cozy and blessed



21 Jun


Heroes are what children need
As they begin to grow
Someone who values morals
And hard work won’t forgo

When I was a little boy
I knew a hero who
Embodied all the traits that I
Would employ when I grew

This hero worked his hardest to
Provide for all his kin
He put the needs of family
Before his own therein

He didn’t go out partying
And didn’t socialize
Every weekend, ‘cause to him
His family was the prize

Many times the places where
He worked would just close down
He never got depressed or drank
To make his sorrows drown

Tomorrow was a new day so
This hero hit the street
Never feeling anxious or
Dramatic or downbeat

He’d always find a new job ‘cause
The bosses plainly saw
A trait he had that somehow would
Employers always draw

His English wasn’t all that good
But his eyes did reveal
Fluently that this hero
Did his job with much zeal

He didn’t moan and whine and cry
When the work day began
He always gave his best and always
Acted like a man

He cared about the things that mattered
God, his kids, his wife
And didn’t give a crap about
The petty things in life

Like competition that so many
Wasted money on
While others were out making bets
This hero mowed his lawn

While others spent their dough on latest
Fashions, travel, cars
And blew all of their money at
The race tracks and the bars

This hero put in overtime
So that his house was paid
‘Cause he never believed in
Depending on bank’s aid

He never owned a credit card
Because it made no sense
To buy with money that you didn’t
Have in present tense

This hero may not have been a
Philosopher or scholar
But wisdom can also come from
Those who wear a blue collar

From him I learned integrity
From him I learned respect
I learned to stand up as a man
And as a man, protect

This hero taught me to say “No,
That doesn’t work for me”
He taught me sometimes you have to
Speak up and disagree

When someone doesn’t try their best
When someone drags their ass
When someone shows great disrespect
When someone shows no class

When someone doesn’t care as much
As you push yourself to
When someone takes for granted what
In life you can pursue

A child needs a hero as
It grows to an adult
Take it serious, don’t be
An aloof insult

To the concept of mentor
Teacher, trainer, guide
Be a hero so your kids
Remember you with pride

                                                                                                               for Dad


20 Jun



The punches fly, the normals fall and clutch their injury
They wince with pain and pray to God and beg for sweet mercy
They tremble at the taste of their own blood, it’s so revolting
Their lives are lived in luxury, the pain now feels so jolting

They plead for sympathy because they think hurt is the end
That pleasure was their goal in life, not to survive and mend
They give up quickly and curl up and whimper through the rest
Wondering why they no longer are favoured and blessed

The WARRIOR tastes her own blood, a smile dons her lips
And never waivers as red trickles, oozes, spurts and drips
Skin is torn and bones are fractured, still she never quits
‘Cause pain is not enough to rob her of her grace and wits

The punches are soon joined by kicks and more damage is done
The WARRIOR absorbs it all, she does not turn and run
Because the only condition for failure is her death
“You’ll have to kill me,” she growls underneath her breath

The savagery continues but the WARRIOR withstands
“You’ll have to kill me,” she snarls as each vicious blow lands
“You’ll have to kill me,” she dares those who think they know of rage
“…kill me,” she taunts those who try her spirit to assuage

But none of those who furrow brows, hurl threats and inflict pain
Are willing to go just THAT FAR in order to attain
Control over a WARRIOR, they do not end her life
None of her assailants will bury and twist that knife

Their anger has it’s limits and their line’s drawn ‘fore the grave
The WARRIOR has one foot in the ground, that’s why she’s brave
“Go ahead and push the rest into that 6-foot pit”
She chides those who all act so fierce but not one will commit

They calm and say they don’t want that to weigh upon their soul
“Funny,” the WARRIOR responds, “Even your spirit’s goal
Is ease and comfort, luxury, no weight it wants to bear
That is why you only yell and punch but do not dare

To stop the beating of my heart, too far and too extreme?
Too dark and too sinister, you’d rather shout and scream?”
Imagine if that sick feeling that hurtful people felt
When death was around the corner was even sooner dealt

Imagine if that empathy arose with the first scorn
Imagine if that guilt and shame appeared with first word sworn
Imagine just how much less pain man would inflict on man
Imagine just how much more understanding here would span

That is why the world needs WARRIORS to take the hate
And call bullshit and chastise, scold, admonish and berate
FIGHT, WARRIOR, FIGHT until your heart pumps its last beat
Against those who act angry but see Reaper and retreat


Heaven Now

19 Jun


Heaven Now

Fools will clutch their gospels close to chest and all exalt
How Heaven will begin for them when their body does halt
They’ll talk about how, “All is peace and love and joy and bliss”
Somewhere down the road while the present moment they miss
It is because I was present that I saw Heaven, now
Because I paid full attention, I was stunned and said, “Wow”
It is because I knew Heaven was right there in my sights
That I paid full attention to Heaven each of those nights
I showed Heaven how much I cared, I did the work each day
I called, I listened, empathized, I loved, I did not pray
I did not beg for my Heaven, nor did I sit and wait
I went out, searched and found Heaven, my graceful, loving mate
My head is not within the clouds, I care not for “beyond”
‘Cause Heaven’s something with which I share a tremendous bond
No tomorrow, no rapture, no hoping for a dream
No clouds and pearly gates and angels needed to redeem
Heaven’s now and she’s my wife, my Queen, my love, my friend
Who’d have thought that Heaven could all the way here extend?

                                                   ~Happy anniversary, Sweetness

Iron Will

10 Jun

Iron Will

Will was just a normal boy
His parents bought him every toy
They made him do his chores which weren’t too hard

This life was filled with love and joy
Yet sometimes somethings did annoy
And other things left Will feeling quite scarred

His loving folks said, “There, there, Will”
And made him take a magic pill
Which made his pain vanish for just a bit

But over time, with each refill
The magic cure made him less chill
And Will’s control would once again remit

His parents tried another cure:
A therapist that they were sure
Would be able to fix all of Will’s pain

Again, at first Will did feel pure
Again the joy did not endure
Again, they tried to fix poor Will’s sad brain

One day, young Will had a thought:
“Perhaps it’s not me who’s distraught
Perhaps all of you are the ones who lack

Perhaps everything I’ve been taught
Is festering and overwrought
With apathy and it’s time I attack

Perhaps I have been blind to hate
And fear that all of you create
Perhaps it’s time I spoke the truth I see

Perhaps it’s time that I shot straight
Perhaps it’s time I did debate
Think for myself, question and disagree

Perhaps instead of feeling hurt
It’s time that I was blunt and blurt
Oh, it hurts your feelings? Take this pill

They’ll help you to hide and avert
The nasty things which make blood spurt
At least for a short time, then it’s down hill

Then we’ll ask a therapist
To fix your ego laundry list
They’ll help a bit, then once again you’ll feel

Your ego’s dagger stab and twist
Perhaps one day you’ll use your fist
And iron will to find the cure that’s real”

His parents listened on with shock
“Will’s lost his mind!” they’d point and gawk
“Thank God for that,” Will smiled with relief

“‘Cause no longer does my mind block
My iron will and grit of rock
No longer does it slay my self-belief”

They called him asshole and a prick
Insensitive and jerk and sick
“I know you hate what you don’t understand

Who’d think it would do the trick
To embrace my empathy’s kick?
To own my gift, not bury head in sand”

So Iron Will embraced his gift
And was aware and strong and swift
And never again did he beg for rest

His loved ones thought he was adrift
His steel resolve caused quite a rift
They worried, cried, yelled, sighed and were quite stressed

And sought cures for themselves but failed
They swallowed medicine, inhaled
And turned to other crutches while Will viewed

“Always hiding, so derailed
Terrified, locked up and jailed
Beings whose sole purpose: to elude”

He took a breath and closed his eyes
And saw through all of ego’s lies
“You’re wrong,” he said, “great power’s within me

I need no pill, guru or guise
To find happiness and be wise
Just iron will, focus and no mercy”


To Die For

9 Jun

To Die For

What is there worth dying for? The normals think, “Nothing!”
Their sole purpose in life is to live long with ease and sing
They would not lay their lives down for a single truth or cause
They would not risk their heart’s beating or breath in lungs because

They do not understand the concept of “self sacrifice”
They want something for nothing and they balk when there’s a price
They live in free countries all built upon the bodies of
Soldiers who died for a cause: self-sacrifice and love

When threats arise, they run in fear and dial 9-1-1
“Save me!” they ask cops who, much like soldiers, do not shun
Their duty to lay down their lives to protect those in fear
Whose sole purpose in life is just survive and live with cheer

What would you die for? Some old cliché like, “For my kids!”
The truth is despite what you say, all your training forbids
You cannot run and hide each time some awkwardness appears
And then when the Grim Reaper comes, to not succumb to fears

The Warrior and Poet, Archilochus, did describe
How no praying or wishing, bargaining or gift or bribe
Can save you from your lack of training, “THAT’S to where we fall”
You think you’ll make the sacrifice? I think you’ll simply crawl

When someone breaks into your house and threatens your kid’s life
You think you’ll die with glory as you charge towards the knife?
Your ego likes to paint the scene, how you will rise and win
It leaves out your slow reflexes, your doubt and your chagrin

It doesn’t tell you how you’ll shake just like each time there’s yelling
You run away instead of step forward with courage swelling
Some say Warriors all have a death wish and are nuts
They say, “You should be more careful which hill you die on, putz!”

I SAY there are many hills on which I’d breathe my last
The causes for which I would die are quite diverse and vast
Empathy, awareness, fitness, nutrition and health
Sacrifice over ego, soulfulness over wealth

Control of self, the choice to let it go and be offbeat
Gays and women’s rights, refusal to eat tortured meat
All of those and many more for which I would perish
“Crazy,” “quirky,” “angry,” “bitter,” uptight,” “psycho,” “garish”

Are words that cowards use for those who believe something’s worth
Paying the ultimate price: your final breath on Earth
But why then do those who would pay no longer live in fear?
Why do they no longer need to unwind with a beer?

Why do they not turn to pills or drugs to calm their nerves?
Why are they in state of “zen” that through turmoil, preserves?
The peace and clarity that those who don’t fear death possess
Comes from paying highest price, not because God did bless

It comes from being aware, from sound mind, from willing choice
“You’ll have to KILL ME because I won’t quit,” is their bold voice
And when D-Day does come around, a Warrior will know
Their final breath is filled with grace, not angst and fear and woe



7 Jun



There is a type of person who
Is known as an Empath
While many think that they are blessed
They don’t know of the wrath

That comes with being so in tuned
With other people’s feelings
That for the Empath, even the
Most casual of dealings

Can uncover strong feelings of
Much fear, hate or mistrust
The Empath can pick up on things
Even if not discussed

A super-human attention
To detail that reveals
How a smiling, joking person
Actually feels

Some pick up an energy
While others just go by
Body language, chosen words
Or the look in their eye

The Empath is a sensitive
Compassionate observer
Many times they lose themselves
Amid another’s fervor

Shackled with acuity
They often lose control
Of their own thoughts and feelings ‘cause
Another does cajole

They’re overwhelmed by influence
Of what rages around
Every detail magnified
And amplified, each sound

Lucky or a blessing? No,
Most Empaths feel they’re cursed
Because each day they are witness
To humanity’s worst

The selfishness, the fear, the lack
Of any kind of hope
The whining and complaining and
The masses who just mope

The Empath knows there’s strength inside
Themselves and everyone
They’re cursed to watch most people simply
Ignore it and shun

The Empath sees the beauty in
The little things each day
But also sees the countless people
That piss it away

The Empath is a noble guard
A listener to all
They are the ones that you just can’t
Help but tear down your wall

And open up to, speak to, be
Vulnerable, exposed
Because the Empath’s mind is never
Ignorant and closed

They are the listeners who care
Who truly hear your tale
Who do relate to what you’re going
Through each time you fail

And they sustain a lot of wear
And tear from what they do
If only all knew what it’s like
To have empathic view

To let go of yourself and walk
A mile in their shoes
To feel their pain and not be able
To even refuse

Here’s to Empaths, blessed and cursed
With great acuity
True Warrior Poets who
Just wish they could be free

But that is not their lot in life
No, that is not their mission
In a world of ignorance
Their purpose is cognition

To listen, understand and teach
People about themselves
To be the fearless explorer
Who boldly deeper delves

Keep in mind what energy
You do choose to put out
You never know when an Empath
May be lurking about