A Child Heaving Rocks at the Foot of a Mountain

poetry

I pray to satisfy that habit
and quieten that impulse
that sends me home rolling with bricks
self, I’m not a railway for your venial faults
I hail from a family of fidgeters
and clumsy dressers
I live without thorns
I’ve shed my fervor and feverish hopes
after all the things I have seen
my spirit is worse for wear,and
my soul is a derelict gallery
yet I pray despite my mild beliefs
and unanswered questions

I’m a matter-of-fact person
an unpolished minimalist
but I have yet to let go of God
for when i go home
I close my eyes to every pretend soul shiner in town
lit the fire inside and
throw away all the blown up situations
that do not go anywhere
every day I hear how the world is going down the hole
how I engineer destruction around the planet
how my greed enable others to exploit and oppress
how my uncanny knack for all things mediocre affect the atmosphere
how my lack of resolution is robbing the ground we all stand on
how my apathetic disregard for others is what will do me in the end
and soon,I hear, darkness will grind the last inspired minds until
all the world is channelled through the fetid cave of a mad clown gobling up
our mashed up bones and marrow

drained and severely unkind, no longer a man,
I turn to the source of good
trying to recapture that image of God
underneath the filth I’ve become
I pray so that I may not be defined by the absence
of God

dont believe everything you see on tv

poetry

but if you hear it on the radio
then it must be true.

i think our belief what we read in
a book labelled “non-fiction” should
be taken at face value comes from our
judeo-christian roots where we accept
one book as true, therefore the others
but be as well.

what you read on twitter is probably
false, unless it concerns feces. afterall
who tweets about their poo unless they’re
telling the truth.

here’s where we miss the slacker. one timmy
mc-timster, a friend of mine in college
who took credit for everyman’s farts
and then he actually crop dusted and claimed
it as his own, the crowds didn’t believe him.

brilliance can become incarnate in so many
strange forms.