To The Victors Goes The Spoils

Three ways to look at the source history:

Accidental, Conspiratorial, and Unfolding.

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By accidental things come about

Randomly, chance alone determines,

No certainties, just odd

That this will happen, this will not.

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The Illuminati conspires to control

To build a New World Order

By electing the elite

To secretly serve its dictates.

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Behind it all the

Unfolding of God’s Plan

The bringing of His Kingdom

And the Salvation of Man.

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There is no doubt in my mind

No doubt at all

That chance is at work in the world

Chaos is its name, or Satan if you will.

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He works to thwart the Unfolding

He uses the rich and poor

The elite and the common

To bring his destruction to pass.

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The elite who conspire to control

Believe that death ends it all,

"Who was the fool, who the wise man, beggar or king?

Whether poor or rich, all's the same in death."

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In every war they are on both sides.

They lend the money and get richer

Play the war for as long as it will play

Squeeze out every last nickel.

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The good sons believe in the righteousness

Of their side. Hooray for our side!

And there is right, on both sides.

But to the victors goes the spoils.

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And to the moneymen the profits,

Which they use to build

Their New World Order

With bribes, of riches and power.

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But for those of you

Who cannot see the Unfolding

Of God’s Plan

I have this for you to contemplate.

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Had Hitler, and all his atrocities,

The slaughter of 12 Million Jews

Had not occurred

Would Israel exist today?

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©

Rexx

One More

One more road to travel

One more dollar to spend

One more woman to love

Before I come to my end.

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One more, for all times sake

One, to share the adventure

One, to come home with

Before the day is done.

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One, to ride down the trail with

One, that will take every fork

One, that will follow every bend

Before the road comes to an end.

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One more time to be loved

One more time to be cherished

One more time to be held

Before time takes me away.

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One that will love me for my mind

One that will love my way with horses

One that will accept all the rest of me

Before there is an end of me.

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©

Rexx

One Last Time

One last time,

We give it one last time,

Time and time again.

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Over and over again

We try it again

Just one more time.

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If it's not this

Then it is that

That sends us on our way.

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Away from our ease

And the storm rages

Crashing all tranquility.

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Then the wind calms

The storm subdues

And we try again.

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Love ain't easy

For those set

In their ways.

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For you got your ways

And I got mine

And sometimes it seems

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As if never

Will the twain meet.

Sometimes it appears

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We can find

No middle ground.

And we are stuck

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At odd's ends

You on your side

Me on mine.

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Frustration cries, "Quit",

But Love dries the eyes

And screams, "Try again!"

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©

Rexx

Like An Old Freight Train

Like an old freight train

Climbing a long hard grade,

Got more load then any should claim.

He thought they had it made,

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But the top of the hill

Instead of a peak

Just showed more hills,

And a hopelessness wreaks

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That dammed all aspiration

Of a happy life together

Like a near stalled engine

That is dying to find an abler.

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To be able to endure

The long ascension

Demanded by this amour

That she drown with bourbon

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Wine, beer, and pills to hide,

To run where he could not go.

She would come to his side but then she backslides.

Over and over again, from years ago.

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It seems she loved him more in the abstract,

Like the first boy she ever loved.

And now he is on this side track,

From her presents he has been saved.

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He know in your heart she love him still,

But that is cold comfort compared to warm arms.

He knows that she is gone, and will have to wait until

His heart is broken from her charm.

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As he wonders where and how she is,

Those thoughts leaves him so sad

That she have taken yourself so far,

But he cannot believe that in this absents she is glad.

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He hears the whistle blowing,

He feels the mighty engine strain

He knows her heart is aching

For them to be together once again.

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He has one task and one task only,

To stay on track, and keep his load going.

As much as he wants, and as badly

As he wants to be carried

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Part of her load as well as his

This she will not allow.

Oh, but if they could but combine

What a much easier row it would be to plow.

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Hers alone, even if it means they are alone.

Again and again he asks

How can she take so long

To pick up the telephone?

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He keeps on my tracks and do his tasks.

He plays and goes for long walks

And his answer when anyone asks

Will she find her way to and by his side.

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And if she does not, they quiry?

Well then, he responds

I am just as crazy

As the woman who got him to jump in that pond.

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©

Rexx

If I Could

I would

If I could

Do what I would.

But I can only that I can.

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Wishes are not horses

And beggars don't ride,

Pigs can't fly

And frogs do bump their ass.

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Still I ask you

Should drunks write,

Should lovers stay true?

What is right, and what is wrong?

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Sometimes the hurt is

Beyond the pain

Where no pill can reach

No massage can touch.

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If I could sing

I'd sing a song

But I cannot

Carry a tune in a bucket.

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I would climb the highest mountain

But I have vertigo.

I would swim the widest ocean

But I cannot swim a lick.

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But if I could do all that

Would it bring her back?

If she does not care

Why should I?

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The best way they say

To get over a woman

Is to

Get on another one.

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How can one bring to an end

To the endless

Except in a beginning

Of a new story?

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O the lost

The poor lonely souls

Locked in solitude

Looking for a way out.

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One is the loneliest number

One always wants to be two,

But the two have to match

Enough to become one.

~

©

Rexx

Pebble, Stone, Rock, and Bolder

Pebble, stone, rock, and bolder, 

A pebble is easy, and a bolder is

Not hard to understand.

But what about a stone and a rock?

Well the rock is between you and the hard place,

While the stone is just a throw away.

Pebble, a little thing but the thing

Jesus built His church upon, Peter.

Which becomes the monolithic Catholic

 Universal Church of the Lord

Until Marten Luther posted his Bull

And shattered that bedrock with his protest.

Pebble, stone, rock, and bolder, 

More churches now than you can shake a stick at,

And that is just on the Christian’s side.

Islam has its denomination, and they kill one another.

And the Buddhist say there is no God

Just states of awareness.

The Hindu has many gods,

All aspects of the Godhead, they say.

Judaism, Zoroastrianism, Buddhism, Shinto,

Confucianism, Jainism, Taoism all has their point of view.

The atheist’s throws his stone away

Saying there is no God but man.

So many pebbles from which to choose

On what rock do you build your house?

"Into this world you are thrown

Like a dog without a bone",

And when the pebbles get small enough

It is no more than sand

And who wants to build their house on sand

Before finding the bedrock that holds it up?

Pebble, stone, rock, and bolder

Lost in the dark waiting for a light.

Jesus says, “I am the light, I am the way

“No one comes to the Father except through me”.

But then He says, “No man can come to me,

Except the Father which hath sent me draw him…”

So what can you do other than pray to see the light?

Predator or Pray

He sees a world made up of

Predator or Pray

Where the Law of the Jungle

Prevails.

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Survival of the fittest,

Let the buyer beware

And if you don’t have a gun

Have a big stick.

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With no remorse

He will rob and kill.

He always looks

For the easy way.

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He laughs at the fools

Who says it is not his fault,

That he had a bad childhood,

Or inherited a bad gene.

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He like what he does

Likes to feel

Crushing bones

And see blood splatter.

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He will go from the

Girl he just beat and raped,

Leaving her crumpled body

In the alley as he goes to eat.

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Doing a strong arm robbery

On the way

To pay for his meal.

Like a Lion he sees himself.

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But the sound of sirens

Make him sulk in the darkness

Like a Jackal until he

Can hale a cab.

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Tomorrow he will

Be at the bus station

Laid around this town too long

Time to be moving on.

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The heat is getting too hot,

Too may people

Know him.

Too many have reported him.

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He has to be moving along

On to the big score

So he does not have to do

His dirty deeds

In the alley.

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He feels no guilt for in his mind for

The only crime is the crime of being caught.

And if you can’t do the time,

Don’t do the crime.

~

©

Rexx