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The Lion Lord

16 Mar

lion lord

The Lion Lord

Every hundred years, four towns would send their very best
To meet on Mount Censura, the volcano in the west
The Lion Town sent Animus, the Warrior strong and brave
The Monkey Town sent Plumbeus from depths of their dark cave

The Bird Town sent Ignavus from the tops of towering trees
And Fish Town sent old Bardus from rivers that crash and freeze
The four beasts all set out but soon old Bardus did turn back
Up the river he spotted a small hungry wolf pack

From high above, Ignavus saw the old fish swim back home
“Good idea,” the bird exclaimed, turned back and ceased to roam
Plumbeus swung by vines to reach the mountaintop first
He looked around and saw no one, then stormed off as he cursed
“Drat it all, I must have taken the wrong path out there”
And tried to return home but was eaten by a red bear

Animus arrived with cuts and scratches on his face
He looked around and saw no soul did occupy this place
He waited only moments ‘fore he growled loud and bold
“I’ve come, I’ve conquered, show yourself before I do grow old!”

No reply was heard and so the lion walked to edge
Of the volcano, bared his fangs, and made this gravely pledge:
“If you wish to gather forest’s best, I recommend
You be prepared to match the iron will that I expend!”

“I judge you to be lacking despite all your heat and steam
I see no evidence of why I should hold you supreme!”
Brave Animus then turned and walked back down the mountain side
Only then did a voice boom with laudatory pride

“Animus, you are the best amongst your four great breeds
I do bestow the honor of ‘Lord’ for all your brave deeds”
Animus did not stop, only chuckled and then sneered
“I need no coronation from one who is not revered”

“WHAT?!” the voice boomed with great rage, “How dare you challenge me!?”
“I dare, no more needs to be said, I dare, do you not see?
I dare to follow my instincts instead of asking for
Directions and advice from those who have a weaker roar”

“COME BACK!” the mountain voice did boom, “Come face me with no fear!”
But Animus continued down because it was quite clear
That further distance he created, braver voice became
Not a peep when at its maw, yet now it was aflame

The mountain boomed, “No one this year will win the prize of best!
Not one of you are worthy and no town will now be blessed!”
The lion chuckled to himself, “A hollow accolade”
“I’ll pass on mystic garlands and rely on my own blade”

On his way back to his home, his path crossed with the fierce, red bear
“A monkey for my breakfast and for dinner, lion’s share!”
Animus did not retreat, he bared his claws and fangs
“Today you die because you can’t control your hunger pangs”

The beasts battled ‘till both were red but only one heart beat
The next day, Animus arrived back home and took a seat
The lions gathered ’round and asked, “Did you win the award?”
“The mountain did have much to say, and all of it ignored”

The lions gasped at Animus, how dare he speak so blunt
About the feared Volcano which no sane beast would confront
“I judged the mountain to be lacking” Animus did say
“My own opinion is worth more than that of frightened prey”

Some lions outside cried in fear, “The red lava now flows!
You’ve doomed us all because of the insolence that you chose!”
They ran and cried and panicked, all lions except for one
Animus bared claws and fangs and did refuse to run

“Come and earn respect for once, you mythic, tired bore!”
And mountain and the Lion Lord engaged in their great war
A hundred years later when mountain pondered the last trial
The thought of fearless Animus’ barrage brought a smile


I Don’t Smoke

21 Apr

broken cigarette

I don’t smoke.

It’s a personal choice I’ve made. I decided long ago that the cost wasn’t relative to what you get out of it, and what you get out of it isn’t actually beneficial. It degenerates you. It makes you less than you are and less than what you could potentially be. I’ve watched people who smoke closely and have taken note of their heavy breathing whenever they’re required to do something physical. Their accelerated aging due to the smoke turning their skin leathery. And I’ve paid close attention to their constant, never-ending and never-satisfied enjoyment that comes from smoking. They get the shakes, “need a smoke,” light up, burn through one, and think they feel better, only to repeat the whole process again the next time the chemical deficiency in their brain that was caused by smoking in the first place kicks in.

I disagree with smoking and the lack of self-discipline that’s exhibited by smokers who think they don’t have a choice. Unlike many unhealthy habits that only affect the user, smoking affects everyone around the smoker, even people who make the choice to not smoke. I have to look at countless cigarette butts on the ground, thrown there by absented-minded, aloof smokers who think it doesn’t matter. When they do this, I remember that I’m a Warrior. I speak up and let them know I don’t smoke. I’ve witnessed their choice, and make my own choice clear to them, because unfortunately, many smokers are completely oblivious to the choices of other people.

When someone lights up around me, I make it clear to them as well that I don’t smoke. If they ask, “Does this bother you?” I respond with, “Yes, it does. It bothers me that you don’t recognize your own potential for strength and self-discipline. It bothers me that you take the easy path whenever your cravings kick in. It bother me that you place so much of your own joy in a  tiny, overpriced, tobacco and nicotine-filled cigarette instead of trying harder. I don’t smoke. Put it out.”

This message is about smoking and smoking alone. Many smokers will feel defensive and try to change the subject. They often try to shift the topic onto something else in hopes of exposing the rare non-smoker who speaks up as a hypocrite. As a Warrior, I refuse to fall for those subject-changing tactics just as much as I refuse to breathe in a smoker’s cigarette smoke or smell their rank, disgusting odor. As a Warrior, I am focused and don’t fall prey to the deceptive tactics of a wounded ego. And as a Warrior, I’m not squeamish when it comes to waging war. Not with myself, and not with other people.

I don’t smoke. And when I say that, I mean that definitively. I don’t buy cigarettes, I don’t put them in my mouth, I don’t light them up, and I don’t stand beside people who make those choices that I’ve deemed to be self-destructive, as well as destructive to others and the environment as well. I don’t actively seek out smokers like some kind of health-nut vigilante, but when they cross my path and enter my sphere of influence, as a Warrior, I know my duty isn’t to stand by quietly and try not to hurt anyone’s feelings. I am a Warrior. I am a killer of feelings, because I understand that emotions such as those felt by a smoker being told to put out their cigarette come solely from the ego, which is incapable of empathy for the non-smoker. I deliver my message not with anger and frustration but with adamence and focus because I understand how often the smoker will misinterpret it as judging the doer, not the deed. I don’t smoke because I’ve come to realize just how steeped in the selfish-ego an act like smoking is, and as a Warrior, I’ve sworn a life-long war with the ego.

For smokers who want to feel better, I issue this challenge; do something that doesn’t put at risk the health of people around you or the environment to make yourself feel better. Do something that doesn’t support greedy, unethical corporations who overcharge you and treat you merely as a fool and a slave (and yes, even those “cheap smokes” you get at the Native reserves are still overpriced, you’re still just literally burning your money). Go for a run. Read a book. Meditate. Garden. Write something. Paint. CREATE and do something that strengthens you and makes you grow as a person. Smoking doesn’t bring us closer to fulfilling our potential. It drags us farther away. And don’t say, “But it’s so hard!” CHALLENGES ARE SUPPOSED TO BE HARD. That’s why when they’re conquered, they have such a feeling of fulfillment.

Put that in your pipe and smoke it,

Tree holocaust

27 Dec


Tree holocaust

Murdered trees adorn the curbs
Amongst the stinking trash
For ten years they grew beautifully
Then chopped down in a flash

Decorated for two weeks
Then discarded as junk
The ignorance behind their death
Puts me in a small funk

Idiots and imbeciles
Defend their lack of thought
By just repeating what their parents
And grandparents taught:

“They grow them for this reason, to
Be chopped down for this day!”
With all due respect, to hell
With what these people say

To hell with things they tell themselves
To justify the greed
Of killing something ten years old
Just to selfishly feed

Their desire to decorate
Their living room and smell
That “fresh pine scent” that emanates
From evergreen’s dead shell

And when Christmas is over and
The needles start to fall
Time to kick it to the curb
And next year, have the gall

To kill another decade old
Tree that was “meant to die”
Just another sign of how
Mankind has gone awry


Happy Canada Day!

1 Jul


Today’s the birthday of
The True North strong and free
With glowing hearts we rise
And stand on guard for thee

You’re a hundred and forty-five
But still so very pretty
From gorgeous, peaceful nature
To every pristine city

From the mountains of B.C.
Their grandeur so breathtaking
Majestic white-tipped peaks
Creativity awaking

To Alberta’s big Stampede
The Greatest Outdoor Show on Earth
Where one million people come
To watch cowboys prove their worth

To the never ending prairies
Of Saskatchewan
Supplying us with the
Best grain that grows upon

Next is Manitoba
The “Strait of the Spirit”
With one hundred thousand lakes
The moniker does fit

And then the five Great Lakes
Of Ontario
And the metropolitan
Titan, Toronto

To the province of Quebec
The home of Habitants
Language of love they speak
And two dozen Cups they flaunt

To the highlands of New Brunswick
With much to be explored
Their Appalachian Mountains
Leave you with “Hope Restored”

To the Island of Prince Edward
With gorgeous red sand beaches
Although our smallest province
Its beauty still far reaches

To splendid Nova Scotia
Where hockey first was played!
And her Bluenose racing schooner
Still on our dimes displayed

To Newfoundland, me darlin’
And Labrador, me b’ye
Known for fish and “screech”
(the rum that makes you cry)

And the territories
Northwest and Yukon
And Nunavut as well
The thirteenth border drawn

Although it’s very cold
Outside for the most part
There’s one place always warm:
Within its people’s heart

So for our home and native land
For the country that we love
Let us take a moment
And let us all think of

The beauty that she’s made of
From very far and wide
The places and the people
Which all instill our pride

God keep you glorious
And always keep you free
Today we celebrate
And stand on guard for thee

                        Happy Canada Day!


27 Jun

“Beauty is variable, ugliness is constant.” ~Douglas Horton


I know someone who’s quite ugly
I speak not of their face
They have a blemish that make-up
And lipstick can’t erase

Their eyes are quite alluring and
Their cheeks have pinkish hue
But despite their pretty face
They’re ugly through and through

They think only about themselves
And about their own views
They’d never be caught dead walking
A mile in your shoes

They think that they are always right
And never are at fault
They think because they’re pretty that
Their words do not insult

They have entitlement issues
They think the world does owe
Because of good genetics that
They’re so eager to show

One day life will slap the wrinkles
Right into their faces
And they won’t have their good looks to
Get into our good graces

Time will pull down on their skin
And make their eyes look tired
All the make-up in the world
Won’t make them more desired

And then they’ll have to face the truth
Which will cause them to pout:
They won’t have courage, grace and love
To make true beauty sprout

Youthful skin won’t hide their scowl
Or their lack of peace
Their true selves will be magnified
With every facial crease

And that’s when ugly people have
A slice of humble pie
When skin-deep beauty starts to be
In very short supply

When they cannot do anything
To stop what nature takes
When their vision starts to go
And when their body aches

They start to realize that they’re
Not perfect after all
Maybe they contributed
To every single brawl

And maybe then they’ll be able
To say “I’m sorry too”
“Now I see that the whole blame
Did not lay just on you”

It takes two people to argue
And to engage in war
Fights happen when one puts down
Their foot and says, “No more!”

To the beautiful uglies
Who are so conceited
Keep in mind what is in store
For your beauty ahead

Remember that your flesh and bone
Lasts only a few years
Everything that’s physical
One day just disappears

True beauty’s in virtues like
Benevolence and grace
And doesn’t have the slightest thing
To do with your cute face


Good Boy (Part II)

15 Mar

“When one door of happiness closes, another opens; but often we look so long at the closed door that we do not see the one which has been opened for us.” ~Helen Keller

Good Boy (part II)

For every door that’s closed, another
Opens and reveals
Something that you’ll love as much
Something that appeals

A month ago, our Husky, Bear
Departed and broke hearts
But where one old life ends is where
Another young life starts

We made the trip to Wallenstein
And met with some fine folks
Who had just two small Huskies left
The small blond one did coax

Immediately he jumped up and
With paws up he did whine
I picked him up and realized
Right then that he was mine

He snuggled into my arms and
A hush fell over him
He started falling fast asleep
As his eyes became dim

We took him home and cared for him
The first few nights, no sleep!
But this good boy did catch on quick
And let his training seep

He picked up going outside to
Relive himself quite fast
Amazing how long his tiny
Puppy bladder can last

He also put himself to bed
In less than a whole week
“Good boy!” we said as he laid
And let out a soft squeak

I’ll always miss my Big Smelly
But when I run beside
This little blonde bundle of fur
My smile grows quite wide

It feels good to be running on
Husky power once more
You’re just as good a boy, Blondie
As our Husky before


Jesus Walked

6 Mar

“For we walk by faith, not by sight.” ~Jesus Christ

Jesus Walked

I’ve never been too keen on going
To a single place
Every single week to pray
And worship the Lord’s grace

Churches have just always seemed
A bit monotonous
A bit too easy, too familiar
And too little fuss

I started thinking about how
The Savior didn’t go
To the same building each week
To make His parish grow

Jesus walked and came to those
Who needed strength and hope
Jesus walked to heal the sick
And help downtrodden cope

Jesus walked and didn’t have
A set weekly routine
Jesus walked which kept His legs
As well as His faith lean

Explore, venture, get off the beaten
Path you always travel
Forgo the comfortable paved roads
And set out on the gravel

Walk out of your comfort zone
And change, adapt, discover
Only when you look in new
Places will you uncover

New people, new challenges
New things to overcome
Enliven all those senses which
Have grown tired and numb

Follow in the footsteps of
The Savior and start walking
You weren’t meant to simply sit
And listen to some talking

If you’re blessed with legs then walk
And put your faith in motion
Sitting and listening doesn’t
Take any devotion

Don’t just hark on what Christ said
Take heed of what He did
Jesus never stayed put and
He surely never hid

Think about it next time you
Get in your car and drive
Down to church, just ask yourself
“Is this how people thrive?”

Maybe you’d be better off
To stretch your legs instead
And put to use all the things in
The Bible you have read


1-in-100 Warrior Award: Lesley Carter

2 Mar

“Out of every one hundred men, ten shouldn’t even be there, eighty are just targets, nine are the real fighters, and we are lucky to have them, for they make the battle. Ah, but the one, one is a Warrior, and he will bring the others back.” ~Heraclitus

I honestly don’t know where to begin. Lesley Carter of Bucket List Publications has done and seen so much, where do I start when trying to describe this adventurous, fearless and passionate young lady? This might be a good start, a wonderful article that scratches the surface of the adventures of Lesley and her husband:

For anyone that thinks they’re too “busy” to do all of the things they’ve always wanted to do, take note from Lesley. There’s almost never a valid reason or excuse to keep you from doing something you love. White-water rafting, skydiving, paragliding, bungee jumping, rock climbing, dog sledding, base jumping, kayaking, surfing, boogie boarding, rappelling, and caving, plus visiting more than 33 countries. Did she slow down after getting pregnant? Not on your life! An incredible inspiration and reminder to all of us of the potential that we have if we just turn the TV off and get out of the house. Coupled with her journals of travel is a chronicling of her spiritual growth as well; visiting new places doesn’t simply result in a hefty scrapbook, but it serves to help one grow in understanding when different ways of life are experienced first hand. I’ve greatly enjoyed reading about her travels and am grateful for all of the world’s beauty that she has shared with thousands of other WordPress readers. She’s 1-in-100, and we are lucky to have her:


1 Mar

“Soon silence will have passed into legend.  Man has turned his back on silence.  Day after day he invents machines and devices that increase noise and distract humanity from the essence of life, contemplation, meditation… tooting, howling, screeching, booming, crashing, whistling, grinding, and trilling bolster his ego.  His anxiety subsides.  His inhuman void spreads monstrously like a gray vegetation.” ~Jean Arp


There once was a thing called silence
The amount of peace in it, immense
But a man then invented
A machine that prevented
Peace and quiet to dispense

Another man joined in as well
And more inventors did compel
We created inventions
Which increased our tensions
And bid our quiet peace farewell

Gadgets and machines all roaring
Ripping and tearing and boring
Into natural ways
Covering with loud haze
Most people were simply ignoring

But one day a warrior heard
Some silence and something had stirred
The absence of noise
Cultivated his poise
And the silence was what he preferred

Though it was a secret to the masses
The warrior learned that noise passes
When one simply turns knob
Lever, button, key fob
Or deprives machine of its life gasses

What followed was what had existed
Before the airways just persisted
Of buzzing and rumbling
And beeping and grumbling
Making peace and quiet all twisted

The warrior closed eyes and breathed
No more noise was being received
Surrounded by stillness
He felt his old illness
Fade away and felt relieved

“Amazing” he whispered out loud
And noticed with no noisy crowd
His soft spoken thought
Much more resonance brought
When it wasn’t covered by the shroud

Eventually warrior did rise
And again silence suffered demise
But he always recalled
How all of the noise stalled
When he turned it off and closed his eyes


Good Boy

8 Feb

“Dogs’ lives are too short. Their only fault, really.” ~Agnes Sligh Turnbull

Good Boy

I’ve lost grandfathers and grandmothers
Uncles and friends, a few
But none of them has left me feeling
Quite as sad and blue

As when my Husky-Shepherd, Bear
Did pass away this week
It’s the first time in years that my
Eyes have been moved to leak

My tears are flowing ‘cause Bear was
My loyalist of friends
He’d run beside me anywhere
To the Earth’s very ends

At forty-seven kilos he was
Aptly named as “Bear”
But despite his powerful frame
There was love in his stare

Happiness and joy, he was
My puppy ‘till the last
Gliding gracefully on sidewalks
I was not as fast

He was my trainer, pushing me
To try harder each day
When we hit hills and I could not
Go on, he’d pull away

I’m thankful for those moments of
Heaven he gave to me
Fast and free was what he knew
True happiness to be

I’m grateful that I did not have
To watch my stalwart pal
Grow old and weak and fall apart
Slow down and lose morale

He was old only for a day
With stooped back and head low
We took him for a car ride and he
Felt the cool wind blow

We told him that we loved him and
That he was a good boy
We let him know how much he meant
How much he had brought joy

His suffering did not last long
Bear liked all things full blast
And so I shouldn’t be surprised
His old age didn’t last

My puppy lay there peacefully
As beautiful as ever
A sheen on his soft fur is how
I’ll think of him forever

Great big powerful paws that
Had pulled me on our runs
Somehow still so delicate
After hauling those tons

The backyard seems so empty now
His presence resonates
“Beware of Dog” still on the fence
His claw marks on the gates

When I was young I wondered why
The dog was “man’s best friend”
It wasn’t ‘till my puppy passed
That I did comprehend

Their love is unconditional
Their loyalty unmatched
Their place within our heart secure
Once onto us they’ve latched

I wish I could have been as loyal
Loving and devoted
I wish that all of his traits had
Been acknowledged and noted

Before he was no longer here
But that is a dog’s duty
To be ahead of the pack when it
Comes to showing beauty

To show us humans how it’s done
To smile through it all
To live a life with vigor and
When gone, to make us bawl

Good bye, old friend, old warrior
I’ll miss you very much
I’ll miss your great big howl and
Your soft and gentle touch

Good bye my beautiful best friend
Our time I did enjoy
Good bye, Bear Dog, you Big Smelly
You were such a good boy

                                   ~for Bear