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

make your own decisions…

making your own decisions

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

divine intervention…

divine intervention

those of you
expecting
god
to intervene
on
your behalf
during
a personal crisis
or
protect you
from
harm’s way
such as
floods
poverty
or
viruses
please note
that
your prayers
have been
duly
noted
registered
and
certified
as
sincere
however
please recall
that
there is
a restraining order
in place
so
we’ll
not be able
to
perform
the
requested
actions
on earth
until
judgment day
thanks
for
your patience