all this sacrifice
making us bleed
one would think
just breathing
would suffice
but I still need
more than food and drink
I watched you leaving
I knew faith and creed
could never hold
would never stand
this hurtful hurricane
you blessed us with
this blessed mess
I must confess
this destructive filth
is worse than death
so many hearts are broken
by harsh words
everyone has spoken
so many lives
have no wealth
not even love
no joyful tokens
only sparks and fire
bombs and craters
so we never fly higher
even when we think
we have finally woken
that loveless trench we've dug
is void of food and drink
all those flowers
we've plucked and killed
all those dreams
we've left unfulfilled
when we find ourselves
leaving for a tragic front
when we see ourselves
not living out our magic dreams
it seems this caustic world is ending
without you and our drastic love
maybe it's all depending
on what we truly rend
so maybe love's due sacrifice
will let us sincerely find
that merely breath
will suffice

               * * *

 

God is coming
to sweep you away
with all the rancid filth
all that toxic ash
you have
indiscriminately polluted
innocent mother earth with
your sinful evil ways
shall torment you
into horrid depths of hell
imprison your wretched soul
cause desolate madness
your resolute death
becomes a welcome thing
your pitiful life
encompassing
your twisted mind
such fiery destruction
your demon heart
making everyone hate
everything despise you
you know who you are
despot full of greed
forever seeking
despot wealth and power
corrupt tyrant
full of prideful self
your demented
cruel thoughts
ruling your perverted brain
torture and murder delight you
somehow you think
you're better than everyone
within your dreams
your nightmares
cry out all the same
you're a fruitless void
even something less
without compassion
devouring mother's tit
you are less than grace
charity and mercy make you sick
each delightful breakfast
you consume demon shit
for lunch as well as supper
you and your horrid evil bunch
God is coming for you
drag you to the pit of hell
God is coming for you
all the world will hear
as you writhe
punished by your screams
convicted with torturous pain
rated on historic level
you're beyond disdainful
wickedly loving evil
all your rot and dread
what lies you tell
rank cruel felons
they also stank
before they drank
their final cup of poison
before they finally fell

                 * * *

 

all the king's horses
all the king's men
armoured and fresh
crowns full of jewels
all that regal horse flesh
spit and polish horse guards
gleaming golden crests
so a new age coronation
gathering blood relations
a few broken shards
hail a new king
something over
many nations
hail monarchs too
those polished horse guards
tempered pomp and steel
flying flags with embroidered crests
a show of pompous crowns
bestowed with such haughty sparkle
all that monarchy feels
but truly a tempest rules
all that tempered pomp and steel
is a game of kings and fools

                   * * *

 

I found myself today
searching first
for myself
a soul seeking thirst
just wondering
where ever
could I be
second after fleeting second
I looked
in neat and tidy cupboards
stuck my head in
between ghostly painted walls
journeyed up decadent stairs
then falling down again
I searched around
every ghastly corner
in every dark attic
every dank basement
I searched each legal easement
dug beneath deceit and deception
perused every political appeasement
rummaged through depressions
those harried and hurried places
where romance had been buried
wondering about spirit and inception
pondering just where
I'd gotten to
just where
I might have gone
where
I might have been
beyond a wretched helm
far past
the blinking stars
seemingly gone
from every realm
in the morning hours
I looked in every tangled corner
enduring hot afternoon
I wandered down every stuffy corridor
in the blessed cool evening
I traveled to the ends of every storm
touching every remnant rainbow
assembling tone and pigment
but still
I couldn't find myself
I wasn't at the bottom of any well
or beneath any pot of glitter or gold
I wasn't twenty thousand leagues
beneath any ancient sea
I wasn't at the apex of any noble mountain
I wasn't even in my own missing skin
finally when the vocal moon came out
that regal brooding swelling man
with his yokel swoon
told me where to look
not in any story or book
not under any stone or rock
not in any house or home
not above or below the earth
not within a cave or tomb or tone
of any singing ringing bell
don't bother searching
any placid canal or watery lock
not in any poem or song
he told me I wasn't there
I was not even
a single word or letter
not a beginning
or an end
just a being
a spark of instant thought
that wise old crisscrossed man
told me star-crossed things
reminding me living
may not get better
maybe even worse
more difficult and terse
maybe another drastic flood
maybe another choking fire
maybe I'll wake up someday
in some wretched monk attire
there could be earthquakes and hurricanes
those green cheese words
I didn't feel inspired
I couldn't see past my trying nose
but somewhere in between
I swallowed hard
knowing that's how it goes
realizing that bit
of lubricating spit
would make me play
some other joking card
hoping to win the final pot
maybe make my day
where I might finally be
in some magic life
or blessed
even sacred spot
hoping I'd somehow swing
from jungle vine
to cosmic vine
finally in the setting sun
landing in a vacant lot
and there
on some overgrown ground
I spied a small hole
atop a weaving grassy knoll
to my astonishment
there I was
my very soul and being
speaking out of a minute vent
the raving night before
and in the ranting dark
I didn't realize or know
searching for some illuminating goal
would land me
like some sprouting seed or nut
in some surreal
vole and squirrel park
surrounded by hungry ferrets and weasels
midst lurking things and creatures
slinking nearby and far below
all those hunting
day hawks and night owls
teaching me stupidity and courage
encouragement enough
to launch myself
from here to there
attempts to find myself
from hole to hole
just trying to survive
I find myself vying
this earnestly I vow
in my yearning vole
and gathering squirrel life
I'm just trying to somehow
live in peace and simply stay alive

                     * * *

 

my two cents worth
what it sounds like
deep in outer space
sort of like
vibe of the creative womb
life fitting beings
our inner human race
wanting to flower and bloom
gardens with a happy face
that's my two cents worth
what it sounds like
inside my head
deep in inner thought
sometimes there are waves
instead of chaos
sounding like hell
in my head
argumentative waves
surfing through outer space
some rhythm only God can feel
that's my two cents worth
another mysterious soulful place
where we rise up
out of deep dark graves
resurrection without disgrace
making rapturous sounds
inside my head
something I truly feel
just watch
my body language
we don't need words
no aural communication
performing pantomime licks
exploring moral relation
sounds like a leap through space
discovering deep values
befitting galactic equations
fitting words we hear
alphabetic fractions
two cents worth of true relations

                    * * *

 

shimmering spring
through our winter grief
mirroring autumn's passion
far beyond our disbelief
what reflective dreams will bring
time is such a rational thief
trapped by physical stealth
wrapped in stealthy fashion
what washed up
on the eastern shore
rationalizing troubled wealth
of these western nations
so the cards are played
both poverty and health
every war deck is stacked
what about each southern station
where more distance is
corporeal and such a greedy beast
while altruistic space
trembles as it is fracked
all those trackless politics
tactful yet appalling
bits of northern pieces
falling from impacted sky
we're blinded by a glimmering
no matter how hard we try
to blend and bind
simmering stew and horse hoof glue
all four seasons
tattered for no reason
battered just because
not how or even why
that offensive meat grinder
across the defensive sea
what we fail to grind
or shortsightedly boil
we seem to toil
trying to clearly see
those bastard doctrines and chemicals
we masterfully eat and breathe
our genetic paranoia
confused by a generic sun
what a strained mix
five fingers pulling triggers
both hands and feet in some tragic fix
digging graves in bomb shell gardens
entrenched in bloody smelly trenches
deep in that vengeful sleep
just broken rocks and shattered sticks
is it static bread or fatal breadth
propaganda the fixed world is grossly fed
hurriedly burying nationalities
gloss over the amplitude of cost
slaughtering screaming countries
so much is screech and dread
when peace and truth
lay truly dead

                   * * *

 

amongst this chaos
midst this destruction
mired we reside
confiding in erudition
starving for truth
our myopic self in view
chewing up short sighted moments
relating illusion to events
together spectres and spheres turn
sense and sensibility
phylum and kingdom
everything generic
genetics in its place
so we hurtle encapsulated
turtles within a shell
guilty and haphazard
we journey through time and space
remember those ancient lizards
entrepreneurs in jungle light
into mammoth ice age darkness
then once again
this caveman race
without our prehistoric gizzards
pitching through fragmented night
fissured we still stream
dream a moist address
water then once again
droplets into evolutionary space
reflecting God's eternal face
tripping through this spatial chaos
cogitating course destruction
caves are a place to hide
residing with divine wisdom
but life is such an urgent ride
always wanting a festive table
confiding in the sacred side
of despot Cain and victim Abel

                       * * *