Poems I wrote in class, roughly... six years ago

 I realize this is a bit off-topic, and I know that those people who appreciate my writings about faith and such may not like me deviating so much from what I typically share here, but... I wanted to show my facebook friends my poems with the appropriate spacing, so... I thought I would post them here.  The second poem is more on topic, but honestly it isn't as good as the first.  I hope you all enjoy my poetry here.

More Than Just A Board Game

The black and white, checkered eight-by-eight grid is a

brutal

battleground
for those who brawl with their minds.
The cavalier, whose name is flame,
with the face of a mustang

leaps

        OVER

        infantry.
He fights with the passion of a hundred red roses.
The cleric, whose name is iceberg,

dispatches the enemy

like

            a

                        cobra.
His motion is ebony or ivory.
The watchtower, whose name is duty,
is more precious than the priest or the paladin.
Its vision is direct and

unwavering, and its relentless defence of the

monarch

is

unyielding.
The empress, whose name is omnipotent,
her allure is found in knowing the secrets of

the pontiff and the                                                           citadel...
Her

                        fury

                                                      is

a         stream               of                                               lava.
the kaiser, whose name is victory
though fragile and hidden away

through most of the conflict
reveals his fortitude

in

the

end.

His confidence is a Himalayan mountain.
Finally the foot soldier, whose name is army ant
alone not so tough
as a company they are a swarm
destroying all they see

and everything

in

their

way.
All moving in consort 
they are capable of rivalling in beauty

to

a cloudless, starry night on the beach
to those who comprehend the secrets of the sixty-four squares.

The Rocks Cry Out

The Father's love can be so hard to experience

when the mundane surroundings of a cluttered apartment overwhelm.

It can be so hard to feel

since with such affection, life should be sunny days that ring like a bell.

Looking around the room

I see old books, movies,

and other humdrum.

I see no reason at all to be inspired about a deity.

However, if you truly observe

closely you will see the glory

of the Creator. Every redwood, every geyser

noticeably brings the notion that there is no God to a swift demise.

The beauty and brilliance of all that we heed

argues for the defence of a maker, vehemently.