This is an excerpt from the book: “To Thwart the Mighty Dragon’s Fire” Available in Kindle format or in paperback on amazon.com.

To Thwart the Mighty Dragon’s Fire

Charles Benjamin Steele

The Stories of my life

To Thwart the Mighty Dragon’s Fire
Charles Benjamin Steele-2009

It is unwise
to enter the dragon’s
lair…
while the beast
has an empty
stomach.

To Thwart the Mighty Dragon’s Fire

-An Introduction-

I have been a reluctant Dragon Slayer most of my life. I was thrown into the fires of spiritual warfare, long before I had even the most remote clue as to what this type of supreme warfare was all about. In my grown life I realized what exorcism is, and as one who has been labeled a “Master” Dragon Slayer, I have put the hard-earned lessons I have learned, to use in assisting others in their spiritual struggles, to put it lightly.

As a child, I had little understanding of what was happening to me as my life was bombarded with multiple life-threatening events nearly simultaneously, until I was grown to manhood; and even then, although these events had slowed significantly, they still occurred. I am only able to speak about them now through a strength that comes from far beyond any martial arts level I have achieved, or experiences gained as a Police officer, Emergency Medical Technician, Chaplain or Theologian. This type of strength knows no fear. The enemy cowers in its presence. The mighty dragon of the Bible was taken down by the sword of a heavenly angel. Do you think Michael, the Archangel, was afraid of this dragon? Not in the least. This is the kind of strength I am speaking of…Divine strength. Divine courage.

I am not an angel by any means, but I have been in the company of angels on several occasions. My guardian angel’s name is Gideon. We met and conversed in 1967 while I was in a coma after shattering my skull in a High School gymnastics practice session one early Winter morning in Marshalltown, Iowa. He and I spoke without saying a word, about whether I would continue on my stellar journey to heaven or return to my earthbound life. I wanted to live, and I told him that I wasn’t finished yet, not realizing what it was that I had yet to do in my lifetime.

I met a beautiful young female angel immediately thereafter, as I slipped out of the leather bed restraints I was secured with to walk down the hall to a restroom in the hospital, as I was slowly beginning to regain consciousness. Of course no one believed me in the least until I described the tile pattern in the bathroom in great detail. They said I couldn’t have done this thing because I still had a catheter in my bladder and it was firmly attached to the drainage bag on the side of my bed. Besides, there wasn’t any Candy Striper there that met the description I gave them of the most beautiful young woman I have ever met. She showed herself again when I was wheeling myself out of the hospital at my dismissal, but I chose not to ask anyone if they too saw her. It was to remain our “special” secret until now.

These two angels were not the only angels I have met in my life: I saw a group of several females dressed in white (like hairdressers, for example) at the scene of a motorcycle accident I was involved in about three years later where I split my helmet down the middle after moving a car two feet across dry, hot pavement, from the impact of my head striking the left rear quarter panel of a Corvair in Garland, Texas. One of these women reached down and touched my right shoulder to ask me if I was okay, then went to check on my first wife’s condition. Of course when I asked what had happened to those nice ladies in white, none of the witnesses knew who I was talking about. They hadn’t seen anyone like that.

I met the Angel of the Lord when I was a Police Officer, on duty and in uniform, in Buffalo, Oklahoma, a good many years after that motorcycle accident. This angelic encounter was just around the time when I received the initially undetected, but eventually tragic, spinal injuries during a high-speed chase of a drug-dealer. He (the Angel) literally took me in His arms during one of the most turbulent periods of my life, and reassured me that everything was going to be okay. I knew this to be a true event since this conversation was the same type of unspoken conversation that I had with my Guardian Angel, Gideon, so many years ago. This was a divine confirmation, as far as I was concerned, but no one else could personally share my conviction.

As a full-grown man in my middle-age years, I was Chaplain of a large motorcycle ministry group that met at the State Capital in Santa Fe, New Mexico a few years ago to pray for the government and the city. Others of like affiliation also met with us, and at one point during a joint prayer on the Capital grounds, I was led to open my eyes momentarily, and as I looked around I saw two unassuming young ladies in motorcycle apparel that I hadn’t noticed before the beginning of the prayer. I assumed that they were late-comers, and was glad to see that they had made it, even if they were a bit late. To my pleasant surprise, when I asked about them later, I realized that only my wife and one other woman had also seen them. Out of the forty or so people who had congregated for this event, only three people witnessed these two women, who, quite coincidentally, were no longer present when the prayer came to a close.

My life has never been destined to be a “normal” life, as you will see, for if this tragic event in 1967 wasn’t bad enough, there have been numerous other near-fatal events that have somehow entered into the picture. I write this introduction now, while I am also considering an entirely different “battle” that I am currently involved in. My wife chuckles as I explain to others that: “I have been terminal for years!” And I have been. Don’t worry, I will die soon enough, but I am not about to let the many chronic medical ailments I have, interfere with the glorious battle I have been blessed with in disarming and defeating the beasts in my life and the lives of the others that have been placed in my path.

I am a man of God, if you haven’t realized by now, but this only comes about after years of living a life of human errors, until the Lord nailed my feet to the floor so I could finally hear His voice clearly over all the other noise surrounding all of us. I hope you enjoy this book, and invite you to read all of the others that I have been blessed to live and record. A book which specifically discusses the angels in my life is called, “Angels All Around” and is a mini-novel. I have also authored twenty-four volumes of poetry, four collections of various favorites in prose and poetry, and several Bible commentaries and Bible studies. This work is my legacy to you and to anyone who might be searching.
Within these books are the answers to the questions that I have asked of God. He alone has the answers concerning that which He has created. Anything else is merely mortal speculation and of little or no interest to me.

Enjoy-
CBS.

Twice journeyed to Heaven
and to Hell I have been,
but my life’s been kept earthbound
seven times to begin…

my story of stories,
from my beginning to
my end.

To Thwart the Mighty Dragon’s Fire

To thwart the mighty Dragon’s fire,
to squelch the flame’s infernal ire…
‘tis noble.

With sword clenched tight,
“Attack!” cried I.
“And thrust ye home…yon Demon’s eye!”

In pain he bellowed,
and he moaned…
as triumph surround me.

And smile did I, momentarily.

The battle rages on, it seems,
for more than
an eternity…

and as he fell,
so then fell I…
from knees that jelled,
with the bloody sight,
of yon Demon’s eye.

Even so,
that that instant of vengeance,
may triumph…

it did seem slight,
that he so bold…
should die?!

And I wondered,
who owned triumph?

My sword stained red,
from duty’s call…
was quite disdainfully hurled afar!

The lance did glance,
upon a stone of
black…
to break the spell of hate, at last!
Then a voice spoke softly:
“Awaken my child, ‘tis morn’.”

“But why?” cried I, somewhat aghast.

“You’ve dreamed of wars, or so it seems.
My son, you’ve slept too late…
awaken, and make haste!”

“Very well…” said I, quite reluctantly.

But the night holds naught,
but dreams and schemes,
and wishes…
my subconscious dreams.

…Tonight.

Peace

I pray to You, my Father,
…I beg of You, please:
Grant me one last request,
before my life is complete.

Give me the time to accomplish
the one thing I lack…
it’s not money,
nor food,
nor
health,
nor salvation…
only strength to achieve
my lone…humble mission.

I am only a man,
…a child in Your eyes.
A creature of whom only You,
could contrive.

You’ve given me more,
than anyone could ask for…
and through this I’ve finally perceived,
the task that You have asked
of me.

Twice journeyed to Heaven
and to Hell I have been,
but my life’s
been kept earthbound
seven times to begin…
my story of stories,
from my beginning to my end.

Through the thoughts
that You’ve sent me,
and the pen
that You guide…

I’ve spent many days,
many years,
many tears,
many hopeless ambitions,
…and the torture of jeers.

Most humans don’t know
of the true wonders of life,
the miracle of birth…
useless death,
needless strife.

They seem to ignore their reason for being…
the pleasure that could be,
if they’d only start
seeing.

If Man would only open his eyes,
and truly allow himself to be wise…
he’d surely have noticed
the wisdom
about him,
like the trees
and the streams,
of Your glorious Kingdom.

Heaven is here,
somewhere under the rubbish.

Along with the answers
to questions You covet.

If people would only look
all about them…
they’d realize Your prize,
of peace…panacea.

God grant me this simple,
lonely man’s favor…
by the Prince of Peace,
this world’s only
Savior.

Back Home

Another day has diminished,
another thought has evolved.
Some meaningless scribbles,
on a worn tablecloth.

Philosophy, poetry,
psychiatry, prose…
sociology, ecology,
evolution, Thoreau.

A pigeon flies by me,
…another is shot,
by his honor, the Warden…
of the City’s public lot.

Three men in a row,
in their barber’s chairs…
not a one has a thread
of hair they can spare.

I am listening to morons,
solving the world’s problems.
At the bar, they are Wise Men.
…The bartender’s their advisor.

The old ladies are gathered,
at the shop across Main.
Comparing their husbands
and bunions,
and the places
they pain.

The baby’s asleep,
laid down in her carriage…
while mother smiles at a stranger,
contemplating her marriage.

Back to my hometown
I’ve come for a rest…
the big city’s
too busy.

I wonder…what’s best?

Meandering Way

Not far from today,
there’s a place…a parade.
And the name of the place is,
Meandering Way.

Down the streets we will frolic,
and drink gin and tonic…
and the ladies will giggle and wiggle,
and tickle their fantasies.

I don’t care if I’m prim,
don’t care if I’m fancy…
don’t care if I’m jovial,
or if I am the best,
when it comes to
dancing.

Just happy and carefree,
not a worry or woe…
not a penny in my pocket,
nor a bit of
fool’s gold.

Nonsense and Hortense,
Jimmy and jive…
tell me a joke,
and I’ll bake you
a grand pie.

It’s silly,
it’s ridiculous,
it’s zany…
it’s gay.

It’s life on a funny farm,
at a place called,
…Meandering Way.
Insanity,
vanity…
Doctor’s figured it all out.

You’re not a bit crazy…it’s he that’s the lout.

Give me your mind,
and I’ll tell you a tale…
of the Genie in a bottle,
and of the Oceans
we’ve sailed.

Insanity,
vanity…
tell me the day,
that I’ll be admitted, gladly,
to Meandering Way.

At That…I Just Laugh!

For all of those people,
who’ve thought me a bit strange,
I’ve only got time
to try
to explain…
that I haven’t much else to do
with my time,
but to write little sentences,
and hope that they
rhyme.

I’ve got many talents,
or so I’ve been told.
I write,
I draw,
I sculpt,
and I mold.

I’ve put a pen to paper,
and brushed a few
strokes.
I’ve smoked a few cigarettes,
and drank a few Cokes.

I’ve fathered four children,
and watched others die…
I’ve breathed life into people,
while others stand
by.

I’ve driven faster
than one-hundred miles an hour,
and I’ve jumped moving freight-trains,
and climbed very tall towers.
I’ve done the impossible,
or so it may seem…
but I’ve never been closer
to my Creator’s bright beam,
than the day that they left me
strapped to a bed…
just to die.

And all of the Nurses and Interns
just looked down at me,
shook their heads…
and said,
“My!…My!!”

I am losing my mind,
that’s obvious, I’m sure…
but I’ve never suffered so much,
as I did with
the cure.

In the two weeks of nights,
that I lay strapped to a bed…
I traveled a distance,
beyond the Sun’s
fire red.

And beckoned the call,
of my Savior’s
forgiveness.
And asked why had I
been chosen to witness…
the Hell and the torture,
the agony and pain,
of the fury of love lost,
and the crying
like rain.

The babies of hunger, created by Man…
and the suffering of countless,
…numbers never pertain.

The wisdom we have
available to us,
makes me fill with disgust…
at Man’s own
distrust.

We’ve simply asked for all
that we’ve gotten,
my dear…
you’re as much to blame
as the rest,
I fear.

Don’t tell me about suffering,
I’ve suffered and lost…
I’ve gained what is mine,
through love…
and it’s cost!

Love me and leave me,
don’t waste your sweet time.
I haven’t a penny,
much less,
a thin dime.

Kiss me and hold me,
and then be on
your way.
I haven’t got
what you need,
nor enough to make
you stay.

I’m caring,
I’m loving,
I’m passionate…I’m soft.
Not much like the macho image
you’re taught.

But don’t let that fool you,
even gentle as I am…
I’ve studied the ways
of a very ancient man.

He’s taught me that patience
is more than a gift.
To kill, is not pleasure…
but be first,
If you must.

And first I will be,
in all that I do…
my ways may be different,
but my ways
are of me.

Crazy, you say?
It’s just that you lack,
that certain required portion
of tact.

You haven’t even experienced
one day of my
life,

let alone…an existence.

And, at that…
I just laugh!

The Laundromat

Won’t that phone ever stop ringing?!
Why doesn’t someone answer it?
Better yet…why don’t I answer it?

I guess I’d rather just sit next to this nice, young lady.

…Sitting and wondering.
…Sitting and waiting, in the Laundromat.

It means something to me, I guess,
to come here.
I could wash my clothes in my own apartment’s laundry.
…But why?
Nobody ever goes there.

The only time I’ve ever used it,
was when my little boy wet his pants
while visiting his father.
…His former father.

I like people.
I like to watch them do what they do.
They don’t know that I’m watching them.
And listening.
…And observing.

That cute young lady just got up,
and pushed her cart over to her washing machine…
and came back to sit down,
holding her hands,
and sitting very lady-like.

I wonder why she did that?

Did she just want me to watch her?
Or, did she think she was saving time?

She must be bored,
because there she goes, again.
Oh, this time her clothes are finished washing.

I know she’s bored.
I didn’t have to ask her.
…But I did.

I asked her if she wanted to read something.
She said no.
She found out that I was a Poet,
but that didn’t really impress her.
(I didn’t really think that it would.)

She’s loading her clothes into the dryer, now…
And this little boy is sticking his tongue
out at me…
I told him he was silly,
and to shush…quietly.

He’s sitting down by me now,
and disassembling some little dolls
that he said he just found outside.
She’s buying a soft-drink now,
diet…of course,
and laughing at the little boy
who’s occupying her chair.

I offered her mine,
but she said that’s fine…and chose to stand.
She’s really a nice person,
and I’m sure she’s very preoccupied
with the ring on her left hand.
…It looks new.

Mine is on my right hand now,
it used to be on my left, too…
but I guess if it were still on my left,
I wouldn’t be in the
Laundromat:

watching,
listening,
and observing.

Tarot Lady (One very long…experience.)

As I returned to my apartment from hers,
I think of the years I lived last night.
…She read my cards.

But, only after a second attempt…
for the first frightened her,
and she could make no sense of it all.

Even her own cards would not respond,
whereupon I offered to cut them for her,
for yet another chance.

So I did…
And I cut them into two piles.
From the right,
to the left.
…By my left hand, only.

And in the cards,
as they lay on the carpet…
we both saw many things which were good,
and some…
which were quite the opposite.

And her Siamese would continually walk across the cards,
and sometimes sit upon them,
…impervious to her commands.

And we slept.
And she awoke many times,
to look about and wonder.

And she spoke to me at her breakfast,
of the strange thoughts
in the many dreams
she had journeyed
while I slept.

And they were only created in part, by the Tarot…
she said.

In my sleep,
she sensed my pain,
and the uncertainty of it all.

But I will probably see her again.
…Probably.
And we may talk some,
and we may dream.

For she chose me as the King of Cups,
where no one else had chosen me before.

And I had many wands,
and…I had Death.
But,
it was for the end of the bad,
and the beginning of what I dream
in all of my waking thoughts.

And, as she laid the cards before me…
she found herself.
She was the strength I have been in constant search of,
but never honored with.

And she felt strange,
very strange…indeed,
as we sat patiently,
and she did what must be done.

…And the devil reversed appeared.

But I had conquered it,
for my visions of God were greater.
…And I was warmed.

And I remembered portraits of Jesus I had done…
and smiled quite widely
within.

And this night lasted longer,
than any other I have known…
and I slept for eleven hours,
even though she
never knew me
in the past.

And we loved each other, somehow…
as we had done in our separate dreams,
and in our separate
lives.

And I think of her hair,
stretching past her waist…
and dark as the night,
and so very
soft.

And as we held each other in the night,
we spoke very little from our mouths…
it was not necessary.

For we already knew.

And, my Tarot Lady waits,
with an uncertainty…

two Virgos unable to analyze,
or even theorize,
the night of many dreams,
and many
years.

About Jesus…The Man. (being there)

In speaking to a young friend today,
I accidentally told him of some real feelings I have
about Jesus…the Man.

”It’s amazing,” I told Bruce, “but most people won’t admit to the fact,
that Jesus was a man…
a real man.

That He walked about the people of His land,
and He touched them.
And when He walked,
His feet did actually touch the ground.

And He could feel the rocks
and the earth beneath Him.
And the blades of grass that He sat upon,
when He tired.

For He too, must have become tired,
from time to time,
as He traveled the great distances
His Father asked of Him.

And, Jesus the man,
must have cried…
for I am sure that He must have witnessed
a great many things
that were not as His Father
had wished them to be.

When they crucified my Savior,
…He bled.
And He questioned His Father
as to why this had to happen.

And He looked down from His cross,
and witnessed all there was to see:

The soldiers,
the people,
…the rain and the lightening,
swelling in the sky above Him.

And, I am sure…
that He must have been able
to smell the fear…radiating from those
that knew Him as Jesus, the Savior,
and those that did not know Him at all.

…For they all knew He would die.

And, they all knew why.
…Though they might not admit it.

And, Jesus….the man,
Jesus…the Savior,
Jesus…the Son of God, the Almighty,
looked down upon all that had placed Him
upon the cross,
and then looked to God…and said:

‘Forgive them Father,
for they know not what they do.’

And Mother Mary cried,
for Jesus was Her Son, and she loved him.

And Jesus was a real Man.
And, He is the Son of God.”

And Bruce, my friend, did not ask for this…
but he was glad.

And as he shook my hand,
…he smiled.

Each Time I Love Her More.

As I ran from one house to another,
all the doors were locked,
and the shades were drawn.

I wanted to ask them,
where my love
had gone…
but there was no one there
to talk to.

So I sat upon the curb…and wept.

And the wind howled relentlessly,
mercilessly…in my ears.
And the rain beat upon my face,
‘til I couldn’t tell
if I were crying any more,
…but I had to be.

My eyes were hurting,
and the pain in my heart
was beyond description.

And,
in the rain…I wept.

And, in the rain,
I cried out for my love…
‘til I could speak
no more.

Where had she gone?

Where could she go,
without the one
who loves her more
than he loves himself?

And, in the rain…I wept.

And, in the rain…
I became a drop of water
upon the sidewalk…
and I flowed endlessly
down the path,
from one crevice
to another,
until the pavement stopped…
just short of a tree.

And there,
upon the bark of the tree…
was the symbol of my love,
engraved for all the world to see…
a heart,
a beautiful heart…
carved by my own hands,
while my love’s
touched mine,
…gently.

And,
she is nevermore, I fear.
My love is gone forever.
And again, I wept…
until I glanced skyward,
when the rain had ceased…
and the howling wind
had quieted
to a gentle
breeze.

And,
in the sky,
the Sun had peeked out…
from between two
giant white pillows,
and shined upon
the most magnificent rainbow
I have ever seen.

And,
I was amazed
at the brilliance
of its colors,
and the great distance
that it spanned….
and as I beheld the
breathless beauty
of this masterpiece of God’s artistry…
my love’s face
…appeared within it.

And from that day forward,
my love has shined down
upon my world,
when the storms
have ended.

And…each time,
I love her more.

And…each time,
I love her
more.

Walking Home (A journey through Hell on earth)

Even though it wasn’t far,
it seemed like it was.
And it seemed to take forever,
and ever,
and ever…

And the snow was getting deeper,
…ever deeper.
And the car up ahead,
in the middle of the road,
was nearly covered
and hidden.

As I walked up the drift,
which flowed from where the curb
used to be,
across what used to be a road,
and back to the other side,
…of the snow,
to more snow,
I began to wonder.
I began to feel.
…To experience.

It is cold, very cold.
And the wind is relentless.
…Blowing me nearly back to where
I had just left.

And the cold…was beyond definition!
So cold, it hurt my lungs
only to breathe.

Some say it is eighty-one below zero,
with the chill…

This land is frozen!

Beyond chill…beyond frozen.
As if perhaps it had finally happened…
Man was destroying Man.

And the ice which imprisoned
what was once a busy street,
has now become…
the enemy.

I could not fall,
even though it was trying to make me.
…my hand was broken.
Should I fall,
I would surely damage it
beyond repair.

But fall, I did!
…damn it all!
Onto my shoulder.
…at least it wasn’t my hand.

And I began running…
for it surely wasn’t improving.
And I might freeze in this
unforgiving weather.

Satan was trying his best!

But even though my heart nearly pounded
outside of my body,
I ran on…
the cold air piercing my lungs.

And I fell.
And I fell again.
…Becoming harder and harder to stand, each time.
But I knew I must.
I had no choice.

Three times I had to stand again, and carry on.
‘Til I knew the cold in my lungs
must be ice!

And, as I nearly passed-out
on the sidewalk leading to my apartment…
I held sight of my door.

And, as I nearly fell again, opening the door…
I stood there, momentarily.
…Not really believing I was there.

And,
Although I was there,
And made it into my own bed,
I would not believe
that I could keep from dying.

…From the inside-out.

And, I will not give in!
…I will not!

And perhaps, even despite all that might appear,
I would not stop trying.

My job isn’t finished yet.
And, I might even smile today.

All…because of you.
Because, after the storm had passed,
and I returned to the World…
you asked me what was bothering me?

Though no words of sorrow, said I…
my eyes told you.

And,
I thank-you,
sincerely.

Passages

Passages in the night.

Time moves from one experience
to the next.
…meditation otherwise.

The Moon,
covered in foggy shadows of small, opaque clouds,
…drifting southeasterly toward Texas.

The wind howls and whispers
against the telephone wires,
and through the trees,
talking…to me.

The crickets announce their nocturnal alarm,
and the beasts of the night…migrate.

The wise old owl spreads his mighty wings,
as my headlights invade his serenity.

I gaze into the star-filled sky above me,
and wonder if space is really endless…
time, is really relevant?

And,
a not too distant rooster crows,
beckoning the Sun.

As the wind embraces my face.

…Passages.