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
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
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
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
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
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
got no angels
to
talk
to
today
just
the old man
down
the street
holding
a brown bag
talking
about
how jesus
has
saved
his soul
can’t understand
how
some
homeless
souls
can see
the wonders of heaven
among
the city’s sweepings
for
i’ve lost
such
visions
or
perhaps
best
labelled
fantasies
life
does that
to
some of us
the veneer of promises
is
stripped away
by
reality
leaving us
with
the bare
roots
of
life’s truths
but
you don’t need
to
listen
to my words
for
that
would be
another case
of
blind
belief
there are no shadows in the darkness of death no lights to cast a silhouette of what was upon the walls of the future just the unending void of life’s light
Read Between the Minds 