75 I NEED A BREAK
Cold icicles melted on the dragon’s head
When he crawled through a tunnel to eat his piece of cake.
He got tired and rested on his bed
He told himself, “vile thing you need a break!”
“All your hurting and destruction has quite tired you out
so now you can relax yourself for a few moments before going about.
Stretch your immenseness over your well-earned horde of treasure,
With all this work you’ve done,
You deserve a little pleasure.”
DrrrrrrrungrungDrrrrr!
That is the sound of progress
The sound of something being born
A building, a neighborhood, a culture
Some call it oral mess.
Some say the chords in their ears are being torn
A bother
A frustrating nuisance
A pain in the ear
But to me that’s the sound of progress.
Blind Poet, Sept. 2, 2004
The question is Why?
Mankind has been searching for this answer since he first did plow.
And now in air-conditioned offices, he asks it even now.
Is there an answer to this mysterious question –
The question that we ask when we see the great marvels of the world
When we watch tragedies on the news’ late night session?
Indeed is not the answer around the very question curled,
Think about it.
The reason for the question is those who ask such.
Think about it.
Blind Poet
Guns, Nuclear Bombs, Mushroom cloud, explosion
Fire, flame, shrapnel, a violent brain erosion.
Let it go, walk away.
There’s music, peaceful music on the other side of this smoke gray.
If I can float out of this destruction and sharpness,
I know there are happy fields, hills, and mountains, on the other side,
In a land where life does not have to hide, to stay alive, to stay free,
To stay whole,
Now I’m at the debris, but perhaps not for long,
Soon beauty’s what I’ll see on the other side.
Blind Poet, August 31, 2004
The strong, bad tiger, is a fat dog actually,
But I thought he was a tiger cause he keeps trying to eat me.
Bad dog, Bad dog, very, very bad dog,
Bad dog, Bad dog
I will beat you with a stick
I will beat you with my hand,
And when I’m tired I’ll start to kick
You slobber all over me
While you gnaw my leg,
You’re so nasty, nasty, nasty, nasty and mean
Bad dog, I will hit you.
You almost bit my arm through.
No more Frisbee or scratching under your ears,
Now it’s time to beat you cause
You’ve been gnawing me for years,
Go away bad dog.
BF; August 30, 2004
Light shines down upon me,
And reflects the sun light on my skin
Resembles the light I feel inside.
This is a fire, a passion, sometimes a rage, sometimes a love,
Sometimes frustration, sometimes enjoy life, sometimes sadness,
Sometimes exhaustion, sometimes fear, most always creative,
In different forms, though this fire will rarely subside.
Such energy is a powerful tool and must be used for good.
Much wickedness and much well-being can come from this passion,
And now it is for me the surfer to control the tide.
Sometimes it’s a rush, sometime’s it’s a pain,
And sometimes I feel so useless and futile,
A waste of the tide,
But in the end if the timing is right, it will be one Big ride!
BF/Blind Poet; August 27, 2004
This is extra, but I’ll write it anyway:
“Many things come, let’s choose what stays.”
May 27, 2004 Blind Poet
#68
Finally, my sad song is terminating.
Glad to be alive even though pain through this gave joy permeating.
Still rocks screech and slide through my brain, but I will no longer hide,
No longer shall a frown mask my soul,
It is breaking,
Something wild, warm, and hopeful crushes through shaking.
From their dark roots and foundations, the ill-begotten doubts of joy and frustrations
The walls of gloomy trees that made that mask, are now being ripped out by a force that’s moving fast.
BF; August 26, 2004
Cold, Hot, Roasting,
My heard and soul feels frozen
While my skin lights and keeps toasting
Take me off the grill I pray
I already start to burn,
And there will be no time left one day for sanity and mercies turn
They’ve been rotating through my mind so long now it seems,
But if I stay on the burner, they may shoot out of my dreams, my life, and me,
Till I am left, with this alone, but to face my destiny.
BF; August 23, 2004
#28-#66 (all taken from one notebook) – October, 2004-Feb. 2005)
#28
Tell me wise ones, howling is forever
I hoped you could tell me, and help me be clever.
The sand drops that fall continually from sun to moon & moon to sun
Tell me when the next moments begun
From December to June,
And June to December,
How much time can the brain remember?
How long is forever, oh please help me be clever.
I long to know while on and on times sands flow.
Where did it go?
Did it go to forever?
Someone always turns the lever, how long is forever?
Brandon Falk/Blind Poet
#29
Oh the Lord God is good,
Let His people praise him,
Let us praise him for his mighty wonders
For collness that comes our way
The big and small things that come through the day.
The Lord is our King, our friend, our Father.
Thank you Lord. I love you. Help our relationship to grow.
October 26, 2004, Blind Poet/MBF
#30
I found Ross’s wallet in my bag
What could this mean?
Hidden treasure in a messy rag
Why’s it there, is it green?
MBF/Blind Poet
#31
Intensely distasteful
Not even funny,
So out of place,
You just wonder why
Chase them away
Throw rocks and pebbles
Maybe even a slice of tomato
Tell them to get some help or don’t come back.
#32
Dark Screen, continuum!
Flashes of light that get faster and faster until it is like a strobe light
And then bars of light solidify and stay,
Looks like I’m zooming, quickly, eternally down a hallway that is white
And has no doors or windows, though I see the never ending darkness on the
Other side of the walls.
Oct. 2004 MBF
#33
Baby
Baby
Moving
Moving
Singing songs and grooving
Look at my hand I’ve got a blister
Hey be quiet
I’m talking Mister.
Fine
Fine
Express your mind
I don’t really care
Cause even if you didn’t she’d be playing with her hair
And he’d be finding a new dare to fulfill
While going on and on and on and one, in front of this class
Please
Please
Teacher can I have a pass to go swim in the ocean
The big blue
And feel the waves cold in motion
I’d beg you,
But beggin can’t be my style,
So I guess I’ll go on talking,
And sometimes listen for awhile.
Nov. 1, 2004 MBF
#34
They are the youth
They are the future
Must teach them the way.
Nov. 1, 2004, MBF
#35
You’re sexy baby, boy hey you’d be so cool
Come stupid
Nov. 1, 2004 MBF
#36
Onward, hoist the Yankees to the top of their mast
Then tear ‘em down like sharks with blood in their nostrils
Pull out the cannons
Double charge! Ready! Hold! Steady!
Put in the flying mongoose
Now, light the charge
We will run over this American army today
No more will we allow this immoral giant to rule our home land,
Ruled by a government of spit, deception, and God-mockers.
They have oppressed the weak for long enough,
And we must stand it no more.
Oct. 2, 2004 MBF
#37
Peaceful sleep grabs my heard and drags it deep into a layer
Of my world I have often seen,
But not this place before, and in that land with logic curles, there you are.
Oct. 2, 2004 MBF
#38
Shadows of my mind show me you’re making a new _____
On my mind that’s baking,
And shadows of your love soften the burning of anger,
Like the glove of a surgeon turning
My burnt dark body in a waterfall
Washed off I feel less snotty,
Then I feel a sudden call to grab the shadow of your love and tie on to me,
Plaster, sew it or something , say that it cannot leave. Gotta keep your love’s shadow
Falling down on me.
Blind Poet/MBF
#39
Sleep, sleep, sleep, sleep
Sleep, sleep, sleep, sleep, sleep
Sleep, sleep, sleep, sleep, sleep
Sleep face smile fade away
Leave an outline radiating light
Sleep, sleep, sleep hope they’re okay
Sleep, sleep, sleep
They’re happy and so much more comfortable.
Sleep, sleep
Oct. 8, 2004 MBF
#40
Didn’t you hear the people shouting for joy?
The day has come.
Didn’t you see them running around outside looking toward the sky smiling and screaming “YES”
Hurry quickly now let’s go outside.
The clouds are moving fast.
Look out your window
You must believe me.
You up there.
See, let’s go.
We can’t miss it.
Don’t you hear the children laughing?
Look one just walked by the door, come let’s go…
Wow …Hey what are you doing still in here?
Can’t you see the celebration.
Come on join us.
Nov. 4, 2004 MBF
#41
I’m knocking at the door that you’re obsessed with blocking,
but you should’ve had your windows boarded and barred,
cause my integrity’s scared, and I plan to find out why,
even if I have to jump buildings, ride rails, or even die,
when I get you, you can’t escape from jail, but you can try.
Nov. 10, 2004 – BF/Aluminum
#42
I got my money in a bag,
Could be my lucky day
In my boxers, like to sag sport.
Aluminum
#43
Nails and charcoal, what does it mean?
Tell me the connection, and I may call you keen.
We live in a deep world,
So why does everyone stay shallow?
Perhaps because the deeper the dark
Why have substance and be alone when you can be happy and shallow?
Can it be that their minds have curled,
So they don’t miss the light of the stop spark?
Or perhaps they are afraid to explore.
You might look foolish if you do,
But it is a deep world
With many layers.
Enjoy it, maybe high maybe low
Sometimes it’s nice to be shallow,
But when the times come I’ll go deep.
Don’t be afraid to explore.
November 11, 2004; MBF; Blind Poet
#44
Funny
Enthusiastic
Wild
Inspired
Playful
Forester
Down to earth
Culturally enhanced
Spunky
Thoughtful
Hyper
Creative
Nov. 12, 2004; Blind Poet
#45
Wake up to a shake
Till you feel your back break
Then jump back on your bed
Nov. 12, 2004; Blind Poet
#46
Traffic jam of smells
I see light and will soon have a headache
My nose screams and yells
No one else feels the pleasant air break
as they walk into this room,
But I have a hyper sensitive nose
If discomfort the bride this smell is the groom,
And it is the thorn to every literary rose
Chemicals, chemicals, chemicals
We start to adopt and not sense them as much
Till they become subconscious enemies, but you don’t see them as such
Chemicals, chemicals, chemicals,
Too easy to get queasy
Must find a higher fresher plain on which I can lay my tired brain
Shall I take a ladder, train, car, airplane or horse
Must find a way to create divorce.
Nov. 14, 2004, BF/Blind Poet
#47
Don’t you hate it when you can’t sit down
But your heads getting dizzy and tired of standing round
Want to rest yourself put dread the brain
Still standing won’t get circulation to the brain.
#48
Lord help me to focus on your Kingdom.
If you’ve got messages Lord please bring them
May your praises fill my thoughts so I can sing them.
#49
Catch, quick fur’s slick, gonna have to let go
#50 If it’s a candle, then where is the handle?
The fires moving quick and there’s less and less of the wick,
But does it go to wax or to dynamite cracks
Where in time is the faithful explosion
And where in time the cloud castles erosion,
Call it what you lie,
And I’ll stay busy on the mike.
I know where I can find one true light
That makes paradise bright, and in comparison
All else must be trite. In my mind’s hierarchy,
But still the reality is rather sparky,
Keep vision, off collision, and keep your eyes on the road
That God sets before you.
#51
This is your sweet lullaby
Laugh in your sleep,
And if you need to cry
But worry not,
While in God’s care you rest
And in my blanket of words
Peacefully lie,
Let all the burdens fly from your chest
Like newly uncaged wild birds, fly
Now to consciousness say “Good-bye.”
#47-51 – Blind Poet – Nov. 18, 2004
#52
You should have been more careful
Now your guts are all mixed up.
You had to pay for your gall
I knock you down cuase you were being a bad pup
But now that is gone,
And hopefully you’ve learned that if your pistol’s drawn,
You just might get spurned.
Now you can grow
Then you can show
That if dogs could bark
You would be a big one.
BF/Blind Poet; Dec. 1, 2004
#53
Hello there, you’ve come back
Why did you go away?
Well now that you’re here off to the prison you must go
Then whack, fray, throw
I bet you’ll break loose again.
Blind Poet/BF; Dec. 1, 2004
#54
“There’s one reason to live,
But two ways to die.”
#54 + 1
I need to find an intricate topic
A valiant cause that will have layers and chains
The way I view the world everything in the world is linked
You start to pull one idea from my mind and it yanks around my mind’s wheel
Rapidly like a ramped slide show reel having an epileptic seizure,
But there is some beauty in the way things flow.
If only I could completely harness the power.
Then I would be limited though,
And less creative I need a filter. That would be a good thing to pray for
#54 + 2
Revolvers, what are they
Going around,
The astronomist with his 80 foot and ½ telescope
Tries to find with his concave lens, but the world
Bends and bends, there’s more than they observe.
BF/Blind Poet, Dec. 2, 2004
#55
Thank you for the rolls
They were so so good
Were they cinnamon or sweet?
I think they are cinnamon.
It’s hard to tell the difference,
Very yummy though.
Thanks! Dec. 2, 2004
#56
Yes, I am writing in purple
Swaying my words like leaves in the wind on a birds chirp stool
HaHaHa
#56 +1
Tangled day, but truly threads
Red and green
Finally time drift away
We rest our heads and Christmas last moments are fleeing,
But it’s been really fun,
And we ponder the origin and dream of future pleasantries
Gifts that are already done
Gifts that abide within
And gifts that will be given to all on bended knee
Then we dream of wrapping paper.
BF/Blind Poet, Dec. 6, 2004
#57
What does it matter?
What does it matter?
A shadow on these
A light in the sky
What difference would there be?
The sand is getting dry
The rides are no longer high
What does it matter?
What does it matter?
Reflection of thoughts
On the liquid gaze
The nights cold; the days hot
Your toes trace out maze
What does it matter?
What does it matter?
All alone, city of a sky looking out
Dare I disturb the universe.
**Inspired by Jenny Rennant’s poster in
“The Chocolate War” by Robert Cormier
MBF/Blind Poet, Dec. 9, 2004
#58
The battery’s been so bad
And I start to get so poor
My Lucks coat is beginning to sag
Things have got to turn.
#59
Angles sing to praise his name
Why don’t we? Why don’t we?
Clocks are spinning round
Why don’t we sing to glorify his name?
BF
#60
Please stop talking to me
It’s a sick world I already knew that
This essay’s boring
Sick like stew fat
What is the point
This depreciation
Too much detail
Builds my frustration
I was going to let yesterday go,
But you’re pushing me to the edge
And I just don’t know if I can let this go two days in a row.
#61
I’m throwing bricks inside my head
Trashing this room until I’ve shred
This essay to pieces
This room’s been fled
And nonsense vulgar it ceases,
So what if there’s a point
It’s still not right
Makes my arm quiver and flex at the joint
My heart wants a jihad planned tonight
But I’ll control myself
There’s better ways then that
Just like there’s other ways to say economics are dumb
There’s other satires
But look what this inspires
I think it’s righteous anger
Don’t pollute my mind
Just because you think filth is more affective down a rose
Manure makes things grow
Flooding your classroom’s mind till their veins become a sewer.
#62 S.E.W. (Spiritual Emphasis Week)
Oh I’m not sure what to write.
I don’t want to write about S.E.W.
Something about me repels prompts like these
It reminds me of in the past when they would make me write about my vacation.
I think that’s why I never got into journaling until this class or they’d say write about your day.
In fourth grade I home schooled, but after I journaled I drew pictures,
and it was for my Mom, so that made it fun.
Sometimes after they do these things they want you to write a paper.
What kind of a paper would this make?
I guess all of this could make some sort of intro when formulized, sigh, so
S.E.W. Lots of good things happening. Praise the Lord for that. Lots of people come to God.
We are learning and being reminded of good stuff, cool.
MBF/Blind Poet, Jan. 27, 2005
#63
Don’t !
Which way?
So many open channels of my mind lie ahead of me.
Which tunnel will I recklessly run into?
There are so many thought to express that I stand unmoving
Looking around me describing my transition of mind
It’s also a park, on a city circle, a country road, but I’m tempted
To step into the forest or the plains or to the sky, or back
Where I was or further down the road, and if I go into the
Or deep into the darker unknown.
Brandon Falk/Blind Poet; Jan. 31, 2005
#64
Careful, careful who your gifts go to
Careful, careful
Make sure you return the favor
While you’re at work for Ziploc you work on new designs for Glad.
You’re hurting those who help
Don’t you find this slightly bad?
Careful, Careful
Where your money goes
Careful, Careful
Does your dog really need those bones?
And people are dying,
But that’s not what this ______ about
It’s about parents crying
Cause you threw their picture out
It’s about God. It’s about God.
It’s about God. Don’t give you away, wasted.
MBF/Blind Poet, Feb. 1, 2005
#65
Ice java underneath a suit coat.
“Captain can I have another toy boat?”
“Get back to the deck and start mopping its floor,
or you’ll be flanked until you’re covered with sores.”
“Yes, generous captain,”
perhaps another day as a team I guess we’ll finally reach the bay.”
MBF/Blind Poet, Jan. 3, 2005
Note: Having messed up eyes has its advantages.
I have more than one perspective of the world.
#66 Topic – Where is poetry in your life?
In my life
In my pain
In my blindness
In my sleepiness
In my confusion
In my joy
In my realization
In my memory
A fly
Numbed finger tips
Cold sheets
Sweatshirts
Cool breeze
My red flaming shirt
AHaYa
Bread
People
Hair
Stars
Loving sacrifice
Forgiveness
Chicken Alfredo
Iced coke
Beauty yumminess
A hug
In my shoes
Sand
Cars
Motorcycles
Gravity
Cardboard
Chair
A dark room
A mattress
A stereo
Cards
The stage choir
My back
The soreness
Rocks
Moo, moo, like my chocolate covered spots,
I’m full of milk lots and lots
Moo, moo, I like to lollygag and I like grass
I’m choobier than a horse and nicer than an ass.
Si tu veux allez au cinema,
Je pense que tu devrais aller avec moi
Parce que j’aime voir ton sourir
Mais vous avez deja parti au fete,
Oui moi, je regrete
I hear you knocking
knocking on my door
I would open it,
But I’m on the floor.
It seems I’ve slipped, and I can’t get up.
Will you help me?
Will you show some sympathy?
It seems I’m …
Will you help me?
Will you show some sympathy?
It seems I’m…
I know I can’t solve this all on my own
It seems I’m..
Run inside if you hear my groan
Cause it seems I’m lost unless you pick me up.
This life
This foot
This bear
This gut
This fish
It’s yummy
Till your mouth gets stained ____ to the left
Sliding foot and sword simultaneously turned rapidly
Zoom in oh fingers clutching dawn on the sword’s hilt
Follow through to head
Head ducks and spins to his left and strikes with force,
But the first sensing danger has snatched the sword with his own
The other having more force knocks his aside and slashes his right ankle
He falls to his right side dropping his sword.
The wind blows cold, and it’s inspiring
It’s finally Sunday, and this week’s been tiring,
So I’m glad to be here, where the water’s cold.
When it’s all over and done
You’ll realize it was with your own hand that you took the gun
And made your face blood run
All I’m trying to do is take you out of it,
But to you it seems like I’m just a spout to hit
Cause my words and your intentions they just don’t fit
In other words I am warning you
Cause the scissors you’re pushing and the torn string’s you
So you want to know how to hurt me
Well I’ll tell you what to do
Start to stab me with the doubt
But don’t push it through
This may sound strange, but wait cause after this,
You fill me with expectation and then passionless kiss
Cause you love someone else,
But you’re not kind enough to tell me
Though that look still tells,
So love me or leave me.
The monster’s mind hates mankind
Because he sees that they hate him
They all frustrate
when they alienate
He only wants a companion
What does he see
They are all ugly and he thinks an accident floating through time
Still caught in confusion
Believes in “delusion”
When he sees a princess’ beauty or hears the shaper’s rhyme
He says to himself,
“Men are whack,
so I eat them all
crush their skulls in
in Hrothgar’s hall
They kill each other
Then go to waste
Better to be killed
By a monster with taste
Chow, grendel, chow
Your stuffed full
But your confused anger
Makes you growl
Alienated
I feel alone
No one care,
So I break another bone.
They only look
And they’re scared
Prejudically attack me,
But I’m prepared.”
Misunderstood, wanting to be pardoned
Angry, lonely, the mind of a monster.
Where are the wishes
You used to make to me
Cause right now
I don’t even know where you’re taking me
I know we are friends
But I’m not sure
How this is gonna end
You think I’m trippin’ then,
Well I think we need some _________________
Red roses burning like candles
Got fancy art, like Mona Lisa’s
Setting on mantles
Looking at artifacts
like Aristotle’s sandals
How much magic do you really
Wanna handle
Myself cut loose
Still stand by the noose
Cause everyone else is
Deadening my senses
I’ve been saved from execution
I hold the problem’s solution
It’s time to cut down my friends
Instead I’m into the trend of watching wood bend!
Please rescuer
Give me some nectar
I need strength to go on
Wanna move before dawn
I’m getting scared
I hope I’m prepared
God help me take courage
Leap of faith off my ledge
Please help them see
The knife to free
They can be free
You can use me
Blind Poet/Inked Fingers
Soft caress and gentle touch
He tries to keep her calm
He wouldn’t want to do anything
to ignite the Napalm bomb
Carefully he tries to read her mind
And find out what to say
He doesn’t want to startle or erupt
This fatal spherical gray
Napalm, napalm, napalm
She might burn you
Napalm, napalm, napalm
Roast and toast
Today just might not be his day
It seems the tide is turning
So unfortunately for him
Today she feels like burning
He steps his toe across the line
Now he’ll pay with blood
The bombs rage loose and fierce
He’s trapped in a fiery flood
What grabbed my hand when I was falling
Now I’m on the ledge and I hear him calling
I can’t see where he is
Cause the cave is dark and crawling with confusion
I won’t get trapped in its delusions
The waves of life,
The glass of pain,
They are mixed together in the sand.
The smell of life,
The smell of death,
They are spread together in the land.
The song of joy,
The sad, sad heart,
They molten together, in the band.
The act of good,
The act of bad,
They ready together, in my hand.
Large brown pants, held up by stretched out suspenders,
Large brown hat, it’s pretty worn out,
But he bears a splendor,
He’s got that spirit that wants to rise,
He has fun and laughs and comes to be very clever,
When he applies, he’ll be grandly famous,
And when he dies to the skies!
O sinner let’s go down,
Down in the river to pray.
Over yonder a place is found
Where we’ll be happy all day
Need, have, Praise God
For his Gracefullness.
It’s the prep day,
At prep school
And I think that it’s cool,
If only I had a nice car,
I’ll tuck in my shirt,
And I’ll wear some nice shoes
I may just look really bizarre.
It’s come that time of year again
For my hands to peel their skin
Very possible I’ll get less hugs
Instead of handshakes friendly slugs,
Maybe they’ll get used to my shell
Maybe I’ll pour cologne for the smell,
Mess my hair with gel
I thought you were an already passed phase,
But you found your chance where the passions are kept,
My jealousy stirred, you became my gaze,
Even in my mind, you, him, my heart leapt
I wasn’t sure I wanted you, but it pulls
Your laugh and smile have haunted through my heart,
The fire was dying, but the green doesn’t cool,
But love is a crafty dangerous art.
Bump this up like a volleyball set
Try to make it sound so good you’ll never regret
Buying this set
Keep it treasured like a diamond egret
Kick back, and bike this ride, don’t settle for a piece of metal
Roll your low-rider all over the west side.
Turn the fan on high, loosen up your scrunchy, let your hair fly by,
Feel the wind and feel the breeze,
Then close your eyes, drift away into the ____ lullaby.
Alluminum in the studio getting ready to rumble
Lettin’ loose flows that make ice hearts crumble
But I ain’t no time to tumble
___________________in my creed
I just hope to make fruit that grows
And plant seed so my ingrained message gets heard
Cause its rolling behind every word,
So I pray, cause I’d hate to misrepresent, like low-class café au lait.
No matta how fast I rhyme
I can’t go back in time,
Cause time isn’t really real is it,
So no matter how many equations I state and rebuttal
No matter how much turbo I add to my shuttle
I can’t pay tu-pac a little visit
Still I mess with the numbers and the signs
Just cause I like the way they bump inside my mind
I find the whole thing interesting, impressing,
Special like sipping salad in ranch dressing with extra bacon bits
Like extra cheese to extra smooth home cooked grits
So I attempt to solve the problem and see what fits!
Hold up, cause now I’m thumpin metal into the equation
Observe their different values and relations
Gold is worth three
Platinum is worth four
But Alluminum used by God works a whole lot more!
Alluminum
Rush of wind over me,
Cool my spirit, set me free.
I feel the sort of energy,
Makes me like a cloud
Makes me smile and shout out loud,
O… yeah, O… Yeah, O…. Yeah
I’m loving this
The sun warms over me,
Comforts and it brings sleep.
Then I feel the glad energy,
Makes me feel glad,
And me smile and shout out loud,
O….yeah, O…Yeah, O….yeah, I’m loving this
Burning shame
Feel the pain
A fiery flame
Burns inside out
Drives him insane
She wears the mark
A constant spark
That reminds her of
Her forbidden love
She learns to endure
She learns to be strong
He remains weak
With something wrong
He needs to bring it into the light
He needs to bring it into their sight
But still he’s frozen with fright,
The guilty conscience takes its bite
He must get past the trite
And bring his shame into the light.
