goodbye my friend…

the words
another good man
done
gone on
sticks in my mind
for
another friend
has taken up
the task
to present my case
before god
as to
why
i should
enter
those
uncharred gates
gates
in
an undisclosed
location
that
we’ve been
assured
entry
with
the right password
or
legal representation
since
my friends
know
i can’t recall
any
of my passwords
and
must maintain
a notebook
just to logon
to my own computer
they’ve been
forced
to
undertake
the project
of defending
my
failures
as
not
blatant
disregard
for
angelic membership requirements
but
as
mere
extended
senior moments
throughout
my
lifetime
i suppose
the complications
of such
a defense
is why
so many
have
left me

from a mighty fortress…

tell me
what time
will
the angels
of god
descend
from behind
the walls of jericho
and
save this world
from
mankind
taking up
into their arms
a child
of
god
a child
to be given
new life
when
will they arrive
and shall that be
the time
when
the saints
join in song
filling the air
like a thousand
black birds
whirling
above the sadness
we’ve known
for all
too long
when
oh
when
will the angels
arrive
making
the earth
truly
alive

Poem Inspired by Spritual Standards Quinta: Markus Burger (Piano) & Jan Von Klewitz (Saxophone)

Background Music:  A Mighty Fortress is Our God

random pages found on the floor #10…

random-pages-found-on-the-floor

the rains came early
like a flood of tears from god
cold like envy’s kiss
unsheltered i walked alone
longing for your gentle touch

finding good in everyone…

a cause for war

shall we call out
into the darkness
asking
god
to save
souls
who are lost
on
the sea
of
mortal sins
floating
with
full disregard
for
final judgment
ah
but
are they lost
or
on
a planned course
to
sodom and gomorrah
even
though
they know
it was
destroyed
long ago

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