law of cruelty…

hate clings to our souls
refusing to be dislodged
prayers relieve the pain
but it still remains inside
it’s existence’s parasite

 

 

illegal immigrants…

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

shoving it up…

now
if
the promised heaven
is
important to you
you
may want
to
follow
the prescription
of
gospel doctors
those
folks
occupying
pulpits
on
fridays
saturdays
or
sundays
and
increase
your
contributions
to
their
more than worthy cause
hell
you may even
elect to
help paint
the
preacher’s manse
but
i’ll assure
even before
the
paint
begins
to
dry
you’ll start
to
wonder
perhaps
because
of
the paint fumes
why you’re spending
so
much time
doing
what could be
contracted out
if
other
parishioners
would
or
could
feel
the spirit
of
god
in their souls
you know
the ones
who claim
to
be moved
to
be disciples
as
long as
it
doesn’t cost
them
any money
just
words
it’s at that point
you consider
putting
the paintbrush down
and
stuffing it up
someplace
else

 

 

the promise of eternity…

please stay
in
your
designated line
divine blessings
on
earth
are allotted
according to
your position
in line
but
rest assured
that
you’ll
be
given
a fair share
of
life’s bounty
upon
your souls passing
into
the chimeric promised land
a sure guarantee
from those
who
oppressed you
during
your time
on
earth

but one voice…

can’t hear
own
thoughts
too much noise
trafficking
from
lies and hate
masking out
voices
in
pain
homeless dreams
some
wrapped
in
the currency
of
war
but
what
can
one voice
do
to rise
above
war’s cacophony
of
misery
though
a simple solution
one
could join
the choir
of
hope
sending forth
words
of
unwavering
belief
in tomorrow
that
grasps
the minds
of
social sinners
like
an old gospel hymn
swaying
the coldest heart
towards
redemption
or
offer up
such a sweet solo
of
truth
so
powerful
that
the walls
of
deception
crumble
into dust
revealing
all
that was hidden
that
my friend
is
what
one voice
can
do
so
rejoice

 

 

windows to the soul…

are there human eyes
that see pain and suffering
then answer the soul’s needs
or are there just
the dark empty sockets of predators

 

 

when it rains…

water drips from tin roofs
tears from heaven
shed for abandoned souls
outcasts from society
homeless urchins of god

rebirth of souls…

undeveloped rolls of film
found in an old camera
by a yard sale gypsy
sold to an antique shop
cylindrical container of lives lost

extinction…

are some shadows souls
moving in the light of day
saying please listen
but the world is becoming
darkness so no place for souls

 

the search…

which star
holds
life like ours
out of
the 10 billion galaxies
each
with
10 billion stars
how
does one
find
the one
with
life
and
how does one
find
a lost love
to say
i’m sorry
in
a city
with
so many
souls