pennies from heaven…

now let me get this straight
heaven
has
streets of gold
and
one hell of a dating
service
for martyrs
so
explain to me
why
the only things
the divine
is willing
to
share
as
a blessing
upon
faithful  servants
is
some stale bread
and
pennies

thoughts during sleepless nights…

there are
more
dead
than alive
on
battlefields
so
many martyrs
rushing to death
to
save souls
lost
long
before
the battle began
but
blind belief
as
all
belief
has to be
since
belief
has no foundation
in
reality
it’s just
an undocumented
immigrant
outside the borders
of
reason
settling
wherever
there
is
a vacant heart
those
homeless encampments
thirsty
for
hope’s pure waters
said to flow
from
the fountain
of
youth
or
perhaps
the concept caves
of
rebirth
that
eternal existence
that can
shun
the coldest
of
death’s frosted earth
for
it is said
that the soul
rises
before
entering the grave
so
what use
were those bells
were
they for
just nonbelievers
who were
prematurely
ushered
into
the void
not
having a chance
to
declare
tho
hesitantly
their belief
in
the wonderland
of
afterlife
but
who is to say
since
no one
has
stepped forward
from
their crypt
to
provide
any
testimony

osmosis…

death
has no memory
so
victims
become
murders
killing in the same way
as
their own martyrs
were
slaughtered
and
for 
the same reasons
oppression
to gain advantage
and
to rule others
someone
must
always
be underfoot
to
support
the weight
of
man’s madness

important symbolically for politics…

words of condolence and shared sorrow
placing flowers on a martyr’s grave
promising justice and change
but in the end
nothing but gold gilding on unceasing death

 

 

nostradamus note #7…

those who seek the truth
will only find the gravesite
of its true martyrs

 

long remembered…

 

they died as martyrs
cameras recorded their deaths
crowds chanted praises
promising not to forget
but death’s fear clears one’s memory

 

cloud walkers…

into the ether
they proudly step without fear
righteously they fall

righteously they fall
fighting with honor and prayers
into the ether

advisory sidebar for future martyrs…

you must understand
from the beginning
they will
let you die
either
by the sword
or
by systemic attrition
it really
doesn’t matter
how
you die
as long as
you’re dead
your
heroic
efforts
will be given
the old
corporate spin
and
discredited
by an army
of press agents
all
declaring
how
you failed
when you chose
death
over
life
how you refused
to face
the future
and
fight the good
fight
instead
elected
to be a martyr
of course
they may be
right

death remains a mystery…

march
step
step
march
step
dark sands swirl around my head
beneath my feet all of history
march
step
step
march
step
tonight hear the sounds of death
voices calling through the night’s cold air
march
step
step
march
step
when the sun opens its eyes
the sands will hold the blood of martyrs
march
step
step
march
step
men know not who martyrs are
only allah can decide who’s blessed
march
step
step
march
pray

facilitators…

there are no martyrs
only dried-up dreams of faith
and fat men laughing