Soul Food

Seems I only behave
 when in the beam of god's gaze;
 in the strobe of his blinking
 there's a lot of hell I raise

Temptation is a constant
 but it's an apple if you want it
 and any fox knows
 low hanging fruit will taunt it

There's big brother, and then big father
 sometimes he doesn't bother
 to spy, for he knows
 free will is just swine fodder

Man procreates with glee
 fattening its soul with carnality
 He hath preparest us a heavenly meat hook on high
 where our souls might dangle free

Christ taught us to feed on his flesh
 It's the lesson we should've learnt best
 He showed us self surrender
 for deities are quite ravenous

WE are the salt of the Earth
 veal right from birth
 that vigilant shepherd standing near
 measuring our sins, eyeing our girth.

The Truth is a Noose

Candor is less appreciated
than one might think
you’re your own fink
your free speech will construct
the walls of your own damned clink
 
In the solitary confinement built
and the silence there
with racing thoughts of what you shared
you’ll wish you could unspeak it all
Your duty is now your despair
 
The truth is a noose;
uncensored words make knots,
oxygen lost,
choking off reconciliation
when only honesty was sought
 
Forget the conscience.
And that damned tree.
Lie and walk free
tie your tongue instead
only confess on bended knee
 
For the truth can be bent
farther than a spine
at the end of a tied line
so spin a yarn
and buy some time
  
 
 
 
Published in: on July 8, 2012 at 6:28 am  Leave a Comment  
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electric evangelist

electric evangelist
sending paper airplanes on sparks and wires
you’re on the
same side of a different coin
a flip that gravity claims
you call heads
as it thuds
in the mud
slung
fat jackal
irrational practical
you should try to have the unshakable faith
of a paranoid hypochondriac
and the tongue of Jack Kerouac
you fidget with the truth
if you ever knew it
yeah,
you blew it
 
your charisma ecstatic static
burns down chapels
makes man wanna eat
the apple
your plague of fumes
they fucking arc
art paints your christ
with a trademark
but you send the charge
that flashes blind
the corroding terminals
of all mankind
lied
and what a shock
nobody waits
nobody rises
no body waves like the starr’ed flag in the sky
we commune
in grounded gavels
electric evangelist
please arise.
Published in: on May 28, 2011 at 2:13 am  Leave a Comment  
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The Biggest Bang

What hot mass weighs on your heavy soul?

Does it burn clear through to the bottom

and free fall into that limbo-like stratosphere

where your heart hovers?

With a searing clinch

let me melt my hands

leaving, not finger prints,

but my touch, a gift of burnt skin

fused to your fiery surface.

I will trace my obscene confession in the sky

with blood and fire

and when next we meet,

our fervent union will become a blazing star

illuminating all the heavens

and we will detonate with such a thunderous blast

that a new era will dawn.


Published in: on December 7, 2009 at 2:07 am  Comments (2)  
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The Clock Struck 2

everything is different than what you know from the last time

because the clock has chimed

it’s erased, replaced

somehow effaced

a gray blob in the heart of everyman getting thicker

it cuts quicker

thin-skinned

a mysterious trend

prodding wonder, inexplicable, unanswerable damnation

god-forsaken, fucking taken

alien invasion

Cold, quiet, pit, icy despair

no, just not fair

but there it is

tick

tick

BOOM

gone too soon

grab yer bottle and follow me to the tomb

sigh and sit

cry and shit,

doesn’t make sense, does it?

along the same incision… okay gash

another account rehash ash ash

stupid echo silence sobs

train-wreck moms

the blob barely throbs

and we wonder what we did wrong

we can lean on each other, like switch-stick huts

barely up and mostly numb

and weather this bastard storm

and for what?

It’s bad art, Lord, those boys

strewn out like Christmas lights on mangled metal

Would YOU settle

for an answer

that answers nothing at all?

Picture0049

Published in: on October 13, 2009 at 1:04 am  Comments (4)  
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How many have sinned, how big is the prison?

It’s a plug that keeps us from spilling. A plug.
Or amniotic fluid would be seeping, on the rug.
And no one can quite come up with the drug
that heals that hole
that holds in the soul
to keep the world from taking a chug.
 
Oh, that plug, it is made of up of crud
But, fear not, it reacts well to suds
And a very vigorous scrub
will prevent a dribble
on the delicate pebble
that would leave a trail of blood.
 
The path that diverts us is wide
while the one best to choose is a line
and everyone has committed a crime
so God has decided
 our souls be debrided
before we go to heaven to do time.
Published in: on June 26, 2009 at 12:28 am  Comments (3)  
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Fruits of love

apple
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
Seminal Sounds
hush rebounds
a plume of summer
rising from skin,
the place renamed
omnipotence
doles out stifling pittance
 
A pleasure tree
shakes for me
with winds bore
from remittance
some other one
unclad, chapped
deserted
putrefies in wondering silence
 
Cherub cheeks
unblushed for weeks
a change blows through
from tarnished horns
a mercy act
violence
reclaims with aethering recompense
Published in: on March 17, 2009 at 5:33 pm  Comments (4)  
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The exorcism

My demons are getting some exercise
I need to make them good and tired
so for many quiet days
I’ll be relieved of their wicked ways.
 
My devil, doing biceps curls
tells me to go drink with the girls
I talk too much as my brain whirls
and imbibe until I hurl.
 
My imp, I tell him to run laps
my mind, it cramps, and bleeds through gaps
I gasp at such a tortured lapse
and beg for sanity’s firm grasp.
 
Twas squats I ordered Mephistopheles
which almost brought me to my knees
he pulled my skirt and begged, “Please!
I’ll rob your fair beauty should you rid of me.”
 
The exercise that left me vext
came to me in my quiet rest
A nightlong marathon we sext
his searing hand slid to my breast
 
Alas, it was Beelzebub
my soul’s health could join no other club
my fits of craze have no sub
my nourishment came from his nub
 
My demons give me exercise
If I fight they make me tired
they chatter to me on quiet days
saying death rids me not of their wicked ways.
imageapm
Published in: on February 11, 2009 at 12:02 am  Comments (3)  
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The choir of balance

Can an angel and a devil
respect each other?
I have employed them both
to sing in my choir
Harmoniously, with a sad song
making one squirm,
elated and troubled,
discomfort and pleasure,
raising the pulse
and then dropping it
suddenly
with a quiet pause
like an elevator, cables cut
and before one can redraw the lost breath
from the ominous plunge,
the glorious voices rejoin
giving the audience weightlessness
and fresh air that blows clear through
to the toes and fingers, and every cell
Not sure if it’s heaven or hell,
But the choir of balance
that makes me glad to be
a human
immersed in imperfection and perfection
simultaneously
with my angels and devils in perfect harmony
Published in: on December 13, 2008 at 11:32 pm  Comments (3)  
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God’s Grace has Sexy Legs

The beads of sweat roll down my shins
Once more the time begins
When I am kneeling
with no healing
so I confess, to her, my sin.
 
A lump builds in my throat when she walks by
Discomfort from the mixture of all the wrong and right
When, from Grace, I fall
Human, am I, after all
And if it weren’t the truth, I’d be lying
 
Grace has me by the balls
And our Lord has my tormented soul
And, of my body, what’s left
also broken and bereft
of the peace that should be there within my skull
  
So between the serving of two masters
I must choose the one that will long last’er
If I could halve my whole
To save my soul
Perhaps I could avoid disaster
Published in: on December 12, 2008 at 12:26 am  Comments (1)  
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On Core

You see no good in me
Yet you love me unconditionally
how?
What do you get from me?
I’m horrible to the core and I hurt you more and more
What do you feel when you embrace
a disgrace?
I know I disappoint you
and you always tell me this.
If I disgust you to no end, why then, do we kiss?
You are no martyr, no savior
but I am a sinner for sure
So how can you love me?
I’m rotten to the core.
Published in: on October 28, 2008 at 11:55 pm  Leave a Comment  
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Repitition

Repetition is a feature found in life and death
The only difference is if you have a breath
The chance for change is so small
We are sentenced, one and all
To what God or Satan choose to delivereth
Published in: on April 27, 2007 at 4:17 pm  Comments (3)  
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Ode to the murderous pastor

You’re a fruitful fraud
And to claim you know God?
Well, the harvest of lies is upon you
 
Your fruit will rot
No one wants what you got
So they shun the only God who could save you
 
It’s so mean to imagine
The reverently pageant
Displayed for so long, to so many
 
You had to know all along
What you were doing was wrong
There’s a domino effect to sinning
Published in: on December 15, 2006 at 3:06 am  Leave a Comment  
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Afterlife Jailbreak

I cracked the code

wonder if god knows

i split the clouds

to descend back to jail

Like a bird

i soar down

like a feather

down

down

down

perfection is loving life…

accepting imperfection

turning down a gift

in humility

like a deity, I came back

i found my peace

my mind is my holy home

ideas, ideals, and wishes

make such a comforting great beyond

within my reach

and better than the perceived reality

so many promised

Published in: on March 9, 2003 at 11:35 pm  Comments (4)  
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The Making of an Angel

You want to learn how to fly?
I can show you how.
 
Close your eyes, and spread your arms
And jump right off. Now don’t look down.
 
It feels like falling, it seems like dreaming.
You cannot soar if you are screaming.
Have some hope, it gives you wings
Have some trust in the impossible things.
 
You’re quickly running out of sky
Brace yourself here comes the ground!
Don’t forget to trust in God…
Remember? angels fly.
Published in: on October 12, 1999 at 5:11 pm  Leave a Comment  
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Rapture

rapturefix
The world ablaze 1,000 times
I watch it burn before my eyes
Left alone to tend this seat
House of ashes at my feet
 
Hope abandoned 1,000 days
From when the world was set ablaze
Condemned to wait here in the ashes
For the “god” who lit the matches
 
Trumpets sounds 1,000 blows
Headache from the host of hosts
Why should I endure this pain
’cause God is coming back again?
 
Close my eyes 1,000 blinks
The light fades, reality shrinks
Death’s not such an awful thing
There is no god or angel wings
 
So surprised 1,000 stuns
Death’s a place to go have fun
Where enlightened souls go to peace
And god’s worshippers souls are teased.
Published in: on May 17, 1995 at 4:53 pm  Leave a Comment  
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Euphoria

The aura of euphoria

Has moved me to my death.

I smell the scent of heaven

As I draw each struggling breath.

 

So displaced, so distraught

The angels bound my arms.

They hold my soul for ransom,

Yet hinder me from harm.

 

Keeping me in vacuity,

Waiting for His words.

Such torment in expecting wrath

Euphoria gets so blurred.

Published in: on November 29, 1994 at 3:43 am  Leave a Comment  
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Dawn’s Horizon

As I draw
 Each breath,
   I sink beneath
    Unbroken surfaces
      Unspoken bindings
        Bemused in departure
          Doused by hate
           Tempted to perish.
             Poniard compulsion
              Bound in truth
               Paralyzed by faith
                Clutching the discontent
                  Of a new day’s birth.
Published in: on April 12, 1994 at 4:28 pm  Leave a Comment  
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The Apple of my Eye

apple-of-my-eye
The apple of my eye;
A place of calm descent.
Kindred to the shrine
Fate’s kind kiss of hope.
 
Many fear its kindness.
Others deny it subsists.
Yet it’s promise cures my futility,
When my life sears to dust.
 
The apple of my eye;
Forbidden to eat this fruit
Matter of eternal life or death
But you cannot see its pledge.
 
I shun the serpent’s hisses
I know my duties well.
I choose to eat the apple
This time it’s reward is mine.
Published in: on March 18, 1994 at 4:24 pm  Leave a Comment  
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Divine

divine-fix

He listens to the whispers

And murmurs in the dark

He tickles the unfortunate

With heaven’s pearly gate.

 

He sentences the selfish

And leaves them there to rot

He pages the unlucky

To wallow in his sun.

 

He breathes across the country

Or shakes his angry fist

Or pisses in the middles

To punish pious hypocrites.

Published in: on March 10, 1994 at 12:28 am  Leave a Comment  
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