THIS is WAR

THIS is WAR

Bleeding wounded, solemn slave,

Pallid prisoner, hungry grave.

Brother, sister, refugee.

Bound to darkness, blind are we.

Bodies broken, battle scarred,

Chained in iron, bruised and marred.

Are we just abandoned here?

All alone to ferment fear?

Spoils of a treason war?

Foreigners on this lonely shore?

Forsook, forgot... what for?

Dear comrade,

there is so much more! 

Take heart your not alone!

There is a splint to set that bone.

A hammer to unfetter you,

A bolt of light that cuts straight through!

GET UP! 

We're still at WAR!

The fight and fray is at the door,

The enemy is close at hand,

Your heart is not his captive land! 

Surrender is not what soldiers do.

Death has not Conquered you!

You are free! now take your stand!

Trust The Servant in command!

His victory is a Perfect plan!

Writ long before you were born,

He knew your weakness, and your thorn.

Hear the thrum and turmult sound! 

Here there is no neutral ground.

You are His or you are not,

but for sure. not, forgot!

inspired by Mark Driscoll, Mars Hill, (Ephesians 6:10-24), "I am Victorious" & John Piper, Desiring God, (Romans 7:14–25)   "Who Is This Divided Man?"

~Daniel

Nest Nascent

Nest Nascent

(A Mothers day poem)

((For my Mom))

Borrowed breath of brand new life.

Poured out love in labored strife.

Weary warrior of whispered nights.

Nursing long to faint night-lights.

Harking healer of tearful cries.

Dancing muse of lullabies.

Tender arms, firm in hand.

Held in place to help me stand.

A fixed firm tree in a broken land.

Teacher true who taught to seek.

Lips I learned from how to speak.

Encouraged me to step and walk.

The ears that long to hear me talk.

Selfless servant like no other,

marci.

Daughter, sister, Woman, mother.

~Daniel

coup de grâce

coup de grâce

Oh woe that I would do my damnedest, pull these bootstraps high and hard.

Dig my way out (even deeper), shovel debt from inch to yard.

Oh dread is me that in my pride,  I might drink my just deserve.

And in my lowly merit may, look to self as soul's preserve.

Oh what a weighty burden what lofty wanton stack,

What a wretched kindle pile double high upon my back.

Oh how the potters field gapes wide with hunger night and day,

And for a million lifetimes toil,  I could not hope to fully pay.

But you say "Son put that shovel down I will take the load from you.

I paid complete what you owe, there is nothing more to do,

It is finished! past present future full."

I say, "I don't deserve..." And you reply "I know."

~Daniel

Immortal in Memoriam

Immortal in Memoriam

Supple winsome tender,

Shaded umbra slender.

Dancing sylvan whisper,

Glimpsing just a sliver.

Crowned in Autem, clothed in Spring,

Writhed in mirth like unsung wing. 

Naiad, nymph of rivers clear,

Daughter as the graceful deer,

What fen and ford do you take flight?

What arbored pass would you delight?

Were I to learn your right full name,

Beguiled I'd be all the same.

Parched to hear your thoughts that hide,

On aura's breeze and woodlands wide.

Drunk to drink in knowing you,

Enchanted til my life is due.

~Daniel

Dogovan's War

Lt. Bill Dogovan and his crew, pour out blood, bullets and bombs over wartime France in this high flying, pulp thriller. If you hate Nazis, or love action, adventure and onamonapia, this book by Will Mari is for you.

Also I illustrated the cover.
you can get it here on Amazon 

~Daniel

Unusual Stories: volume I

This is a wonderful collection of fantastic stories, one of which is by my friend Elise Stephens. Her's is a suspenseful retelling of the myth of Pandora set in our modern day. Also the cover was designed by (yours truly).

I hope you enjoy it, it is free at smashword press.

~Daniel

on fate & PROVIDENCE

on fate & PROVIDENCE  

To what logician's ascribe and magician's contrive,
I bare no mark.

To the lofty heights, of metaphysician's geist,
I dare not embark. 

But in these two days, and in many ways,
I duly cannot expound.

A clear strange thing came to pass, though through dim lit glass,
a whisper of truth was found.

Now as to my humble estate, I am weary of this thing called (Fate),
of Witch' of Wyrd' and woven webs.

But as for me, and my destiny...
in foreknowing hands is lain.

At mercies' brink, in blood scrawled ink,
of the "Book of the Lamb that was Slain.

The hammer, wood and nail, should paint my fitting tale,
one of Justice in bitter fire.

Yet beyond where our minds can grasp, before time was cast,
in love God conspired. 

To whatever my end, be it betrayal by a friend,
or being cut down by the sword.

I pray one thing remain, the faith to proclaim,
that Jesus Christ is LORD. 

~Daniel

Foul Weather Feather

 {A Crow-mance}

Jet black and charcoal, rain drops and motor oil. 

Ash as the star starved night. 

Wind ruffled and pulled, snow covered and cold. 

Not a crumb to our name,

as poor as the nests from which we came. 

Yet even within ice, sleet and hail,

yours is a friendship that did not fail. 

From tip of your beak to the end of your tail,

my faithful friend.

I cannot add for tomorrow one more minute today,

but don't be anxious darling, the skies won't always be gray.

Remember last Autumn and the broken wing,

remember the miss-hatch, of that mournful Spring.

Heavier burdens have beset you and I,

even days too painful to fly.

But ours is a oath for better and worse,

perseverance perched abreast despite Adam's curse.

I will nest right by your side in joy and through strife,

the heart I give you, (my birdie bride), I give you for life.

~Daniel

Earl & Afternoon

Fragile hard, tensile thin,

from saucer base to fractured rim.

Yours, is porcelain bone white skin.

Mine, is fire pearled scar, and blackened char.

Steel, hammered-handle-hues.

You were made with tender care,

no glaze or turn was to spare.

I was cast from poured out flame.

But both you and I are quite the same.

Made diverse, in complement,

Spout of my spout, pantry sent. 

In this steam spun celestial cloud,

a serenade is sung aloud.

A railway stop metallic tone.

My whistle sounds for you alone.

Darling! won't you steep for me?

Oh Horror, that we may not meet,

if not for (High-Tea) and Company.

~Daniel

Deeper then Skin

Deeper then Skin

Mud, breath and rubbish, furrow, fold and pore.

Lines etch the corners, with wrinkles, and borders.

Each an echoed record of a still deeper tale.
Scar and freckle, laugh-line and vain,
paint this wounded canvas its rapture and shame.

Image of Woman, image of Man,
image in creature, of Creator's great plan.

Callus creased palm print, nurtured in toil.

Beauty bold labor, sculpted in soil.

Dirt made Image so grand,
poured out in age and interred back again.

This transient glory.
No gleaming facet or celestial fire,
can ever challenge or hope to aspire.

~Daniel

Turmult Orchestra No.1

Would, that the seas all sang,
& the winds of the range both bellowed and rang.
Oh that the rocks could cry aloud
& the trees in the wood could humble in bow.
There when the peeks all know their place,
& man has been rid of his (dis) by God's grace.
There when the skies split open wide,
& lies have no sanctum to hide.
When every last tear has been finally shed,
& every last soul sees the Lamb that was dead.
To a joy irresistible or unquenchable fear,
all of Creation will proclaim He is here!
~Daniel

The Ethic of Cronus

Woe to you the priests of Marduk,

Fire, Bel, and blood stained alter.

Woe to you Oh Priests of Kali, 

With sacrifice, dance, and slaughter.

Are human rights based on place in time?

Is your dignity any less then mine?

Is murder Just…  with selfish cause?

Are there deeper truths beneath these Laws?

What than would constitute a crime,

If morality is a man made line.

Should slavery be abolished still?

Has it ever been?… I'm doubtful it ever will.

Cast, class, sex, age and race.

Do not diminish our images, worth or place.

Will "My body, my choice" extend to clones?

Their tissues, and organs, and even their bones? 

Will we consume our own offspring,

as the means to live the lives we dream? 

Is this freedom really free, when paid in full by those yet-to-be? 

Or is this simply, sinful anarchy? 

Woe to you the priests of Roe,

choosing, choices for those you do not know.

~Daniel

No, not nearly nigh!

Will the ground on this morrow, split open yawning wide?
Will the tides erode these foundations so the nations all collide?
Have we dawned our last golden gleam and brand new day?
Is the solid earth, air to breathe, and sky all to fall away?

Here, betwixt you and I, I say ,"No not nearly nigh!"

Will the Moon leave her mate to wonder these cosmos alone?
Are the seasons so fickle to resign, are they betrayal prone?
Will the Stars abandon their long vigilant posts?
Trees bend like matchsticks curled black across each coast?

I do say, there will come a Day. But no Man will know the place in time.

The Sun will Say "I've given up all light I've got."
"This lonely Rock about my midst is a blight and full of rot"
The Doom will come, of this I'm doubtless, resolutely sure.
So find your trousers mind your Maker…. He alone knows each soul that is secure.

Daniel Ramer

ex·cy·clo·pe·di·a

ex·cy·clo·pe·di·a

Goodbye olde friend Britannica, your pages... dearly missed.
Fixed firm in reality, now only ether to untwist.
Volumes from eh to zed...no more upon the shelf.
Gilded spine & gold leaf edge, the symbol of knowledge & wealth.
Specter without body, books without their ink,
Will you still haunt libraries & places people think?

Murder

Woe!

That this breath cannot be retrieved.

Permanent, & poisonous as cyanide.
These words still hang from my lips,
Gilt stained red, from heels to finger tips.
These eyes cannot unsee, these ears can-never unhear,
the ink black wounds that cut so deep, a Friend so dear.
A Murder welcomed by my heart,
my own... surely deserved from the start.
This curse is in my veins, from my father's,
fathers born to bathe in flames.

I killed God! I killed God! Crucified Jesus, with my sin. 

But he is not dead, He is alive, He is risen!

Worthy, Victorious, Lord, Justice, HOLY, God of Grace.
He bore my lowly sinful debt to call me face to face.

Happy New Year Montana

Shenzhen Port Authority

I have nothing to declare no goods,you can plainly see.
I have no duty to pay, no contraband, & no refugee.
My papers are good, my visa correct please let me on my way.
My flight is leaving soon & still an hour away.
Oh dear China imagination/customs personal,
I just thought I'd let you know, your crossing is to me, half hour in-Hell.