eyes

by

covering bases…

covering bases

death
stands
on street corners
sometimes
wearing
old rags
sometimes
in
well-appointed suits
but
the eyes
are always
the
same
eyes
that penetrate
into
the places
you
try
to hide
where
your soul
abides
with all
of
sin’s barnacles
attached
to
the facade
of
your existence
so
you
pray
for forgiveness
to
a god
you
doubt
is there
but
as you note
one
mustn’t
eliminate
options

by

the eyes of the master…

eyes of the master

slave’s eyeballs
plucked out
replaced
with
his master’s eyes
so
each time
he passes a mirror
he sees
a less
than human
worthless man
unable
to stand
alone
to speak
in tones
of freedom
or
walk upright
with pride
but rather
with a stride
as if
shackled
and
bearing
his master’s
weight

by

welcome to the new living church…

welcome to the new living church

on sundays
she spoke
in tongues
shaking
adjacent pews
with her
full framed figure
flailing
in all directions
like
a california earthquake
often
catching
the first pew
first-timers
surprised
and
scurrying
for
their cellphones
to solicit
medical assistance
but
she
always
maintained
enough control
to keep
at least
one eye
on the new
young handsome pastor
and
one hand free
for
the occasional
repositioning
of her
newly purchased
sunday-go-to-meeting
feathered
red
hat

by

for thine inheritance..

for thine inheritance

when time
has faded
from eyes
and
voices
whisper prayers
no more
hatred
and
fear
will fade
into
dried tears
tears
that mingle
with ashes
from
funeral pyres
pyres
lit
by the hand
of
god
for
in the end
only
one hand
will
remain