searching for death…

searching for death

you know them
the ones walking
on
the edge of existence
with lives
emptied
of
hope
and
purpose
going through
survival rituals
perpetuating
the meaningless
ignored
by those
who should care
those
good
christian souls
who
for
some reason
are unable
to see them
and
extend
a helping hand
christians
no doubt
baptized
in
dirty
bath water

 

 

trivial pursuit…

trivial pursuit...

these words
upon the page
seek to change
what seems
unchangeable
human hearts
crusted over
with
self-interest
like
the rusted gears
of
divine doctrines
that can
only
crank out
religious platitudes
no
true movement
towards
the specified
goals
of
brotherly love
and
compassion
towards
mankind
just 
quotes
of
intent
to
move

 

 

providence…

child solitary soul confinement

it’s just a question
one that
keeps me awake
at
night
many
have asked
and
i suspect
many more
will ask
over
the centuries
to come
if there is indeed
a merciful god
why
isn’t there
divine intervention
to
protect
innocent children
from
the cruelty
of
mankind
oh
that free ticket
into
heaven’s a nice
consolation prize
but
wouldn’t it be better
to
give them
a chance
at
life

the last prayer…

this memorial day

ain’t never wondered
if
you were there
or
not
cuz’
i’ve been carrying
this
holy book
as
my shield
since
i was young
and
force fed
to believe
without
doubt
there
was
some higher
power
than man
as well as
purpose
for
my life
but
as
i’m saying
this final prayer
surrounded
by
the rotting flesh
of
innocent lives
i’m
just wondering
if
you’ve
ever
been
there

another routine…

another routine

our time empties out
there are small perforations
in our existence
that go unnoticed as we
move through our daily routines
excused away by us all
until it’s too late
that’s the point when we reflect
upon life’s meaning
and the arrival of death
as it moves ever closer 
consuming all our dreams
we rationalize
that we have had a good life
questions still remain
what about that afterlife
will there really be judgement
eyes close praying for sunrise

 

 

illegal immigrants…

caught in a landslide

once death’s accepted
the question’s not if but when
the worrisome how
is an agenda item
paramount in some folk’s minds
but there’s an old lie
that fills our hearts with anger
eternal life myths
those promises that control
our desires and behaviors
keeping us restrained
compliant to other’s will
oh we had a choice
go against society
and live in the wilderness
or meekly comply
and go with the flow of life
sacrificing dreams
but being an outstanding
to be forgot fine corpse
with a funeral toast
praising all that you didn’t do
making you a saint
in some distant land of peace
an undocumented soul

thanks for the invitation but…

thanks for the invitation but...

being
a religious woman
effie
attended church
on
those holidays
necessary
to
maintain 
her social contract
with
the divine
easter
christmas
and
at least
one
other
randomly selected
day
a schedule
that
provided
one dedicated
service
for
the father
son
or
holy ghost
but
avoided
the routine
repetitive sunday sermons
that
other parishioners
found
indispensable
as
full time members
of
sinners anonymous
effie
had met
the new pastor
who
encouraged her
to
attend
more frequently
but
having seen
the handsome
young man
she knew
the deacons’ wives
would be
fantasizing
and
pressing close
to him
while cooking
in
the church kitchen
with
their
abundant
body parts
throughout
the after services
reception
which
always seemed
more like
a
repast
plus
she
had overheard
their
bachelorette daughters
scheming on
how to replace
his wife
so
effie decided
it was
far
holier
outside
the church
than
inside
accepting
that
sometimes
contact minimalism
is
best

 

 

you’ve missed the bus…

you've missted the bus

man’s greatest madness
those delusions of grandeur
streets paved with pure gold
those seventy-two virgins
there’s no blissful ecstasy
no choir of angels singing
oh you had your chance
but you failed to realize
that the heaven sought
was the warmth of children’s hands
smiles and laughter of old friends
and sweet scents of early spring