Jihad and Jezebel
the East and the West
on collision course
Jihad killing, dying, for a fight
Jezebel indulging, drunken with self
East in deception
West in denial
Jihad and Jezebel
a house divided
yet one in design
to kill and destroy
with religion or rights
with sword or with sin

Ancient trade route
traces the border
straddles the fault-line
where East meets West
tectonic pressure
beneath the Land
above the Earth
between the boundaries
Ancient-modern nation
crossroads of the world
Valley of Decision
caught in the crossfire
of Jihad without
and Jezebel within
of Jezebel without
and Jihad within

City of kings
waits for her King
longs for her David
to retake His throne
shepherd His people
gather them home
destroy the deceiver
usurper – thief
make the Ancient City
the glory of Earth
commence the shaking
of all that can shake
reveal the sons
of righteousness
oh what of me
am I one of them?

Jihad and Jezebel
both taunt from without
both tempt from within
one incites anger
the other seduces
which of the two
grips my soul?
or do they both?
or am I willing
to stand between them
a defender in the breach
in the wall of the City
who waits for her King
who will surely come
and surely destroy
both Jihad and Jezebel?

© 2010, Loren Harder


If You’re Going to Fail, Fail Big

If you’re going to fail, fail big.
Take bankruptcy, start over and succeed.
Crush the competition, buy yourself some friends.
Dazzle investors, convince banks to lend.

Grow, grow, grow! Leave no money on the table.
Fire the weaklings, groom the able.
Cultivate consumers, placate resentment.
Nature abhors a vacuum; ambition abhors contentment.

There’s no such thing as excess when leaving your mark,
doing what you’re born for, aiming for the stars.
And greed? Only the jealous accuse with that term.
You deserve what you have, every penny was earned.

Simplicity, contentment, generosity, thrift—
a simpleton’s hymn claims these are gifts.
You don’t need gifts, you’re no object of charity;
they may pray for your soul but don’t dare call you needy.

Let them keep their quaint ways, their naive integrity.
You can exploit such impoverishing piety.
You’re paving your destiny on a highway you own;
if it leads to hell, you still hold title to every stone.

Son, follow my mantra and you’ll end up like me.
If you’re going to fail, fail big.