Heavily irradiated historian developing my writing career. You can follow me on Facebook, Twitter, & Instagram. To help me create more content, leave a tip or become a pledged subscriber. I also make stickers, t-shirts, etc here.
They say my body, my choice When it’s their voice being heard But when others stand up for the same They have conspiracies to blame
By Atomic Historian3 years ago in Poets
Given the current circumstances, I felt it was necessary to update Martin Niemöller’s poem, “First they came…,” from 1946 for the new era we are in.
By Atomic Historian4 years ago in Poets
We once had hope But now we’re slung on a rope They’ve beaten our souls Wiped us clean With their legislative soap The parade is gone
The darkness crept in The light glowing before him He felt nothing And yet everything all at once The caffeine opening his eyes to the day
Books Some books are for looking Some are for nooking and cranning Others are for diligent disorganized planning
Goodnight brain Why am I up again? Who's the better Alfred? Michael Gough or Michael Caine? I don't care Michael Keaton is forever my Bruce Wayne
In the prison of souls There is no control It makes you a fool For answering the call Of its uplifting fall For all that are compelled by its draw
Your vapid existence Is not the same as persistence You look for someone to blame Yet, feel no shame in your disdain Your efforts fell short
Sitting there in your grace How I love you in this place From across the room You say, come hither I say no, I’ll stay right here
Fathers need daughters They make the heart fonder Sometimes, I used to wonder When you would come We waited so long for you
You were my first I used to talk about you as a child How I wanted at least one boy I was chastised for playing with girly toys
Lights dancing in the night Flashing red, blue, and white My chest feeling ever so tight Across the way she strolls Her hair swaying side to side
