“The bombs exploding have no one to blame.


Rage, anger, and confusion ensue.


The laughter is dead and the anxiety collects itself.


Everyone is quiet because no one wants to talk about it.


Trauma is disguised with Hellenistic smiles and “Hi, How are you?”


But nobody cares


That’s the truth and nobody likes it.


3 plus 1 equals four, but all together equals a perfect 10!




You look up to the sky, for what?


You look up to the cross, for what?


Symbols, and icons, and idols, oh my!


Pastors and Rabbis and Priests, oh my!


Do you think you get saved in a church? A synagogue? A mosque?


Do you think salvation is yours? Because what? Because you say it is?


You are a fool my dear friend.


A pathetic muse of delusion coupled with a nose of a pompous


But no matter, I am too!




Heaven and Hell is here right now, but you are not paying attention to it, it’s okay.


We all distract ourselves from the evident truth:


You are going to die. She is going to die. He is going to die.


We are all going to die.



Written by: Michael S. Williamson.



Portland – The Nature of Home

How much I love you; I cannot explain it.

Your cool swift winds, your smell of lush greens and wood accompanied by the croaking of crows along side the kind sweet chirps of small birds, and your majestic and heavenly clouds, you will forever be a lasting memory of love and peace; and your nature, I will revisit in my dreams.

Take me with you where the wind starts – to and fro I will go with you.

Share with me your secrets, share with me your life.

Portland, I love you.

The home of nature, and a new place I can call home.