Disillusionment…in His name

Imaginary Jesus
Whose always there to please us
Confined to dissolve our cognitive dissonance
Our refuge relation
Our affirming sensation
Our utter deprivation
of self-expression
Spoken in His name.

Arbitrary morals
The culture’s deceptive florals
Smelling so sweet, but grown solely from rotting flesh
Our burdensome wisdom
Our incomplete system
Our forceful piston
Pushing us to fall in line
Acted out in His name.

Where is the balance
Of reason and freedom
Of real relations and forgiving friendships?
Why must the Word be fake
Or only seen from one man’s take?

Reality is found in humility of the mind
And forgiveness is found in humility of the kind.

But how does one find
the peace of mind
to ever be truly kind?

Chaos at Hand

Chaos swirling rapidly around
So many lives, so many sounds
The kitchen’s dirty, dark and damp
The master’s calling for food
But I can’t see.
I could.
I used to distinguish from pot and pan;
The dirty and clean;
The ceiling and floor.
But not any more.

Now I feel,
I feel for real.
I see there are so many lies.
Now I see,
I see the sea.
And my hands reach up for the skies.
Freedom, freedom calls my name
The truth will set you free.
Bind the evil,
Kick it out!
And then please hear my plea
And then please speak with me.
- – - – - – - – - – - – - – - – - -
Peace, peace, peace, be still
The words come from a dry, croaking throat
Evil has won
But your saving us, son
Live in hell so that we may die
In our pitiful, passionate pleasures

I’m fighting, yes! But what for?!
I’m living, yes! But what for?!
But what for?! But. What. For?!
And why?
…It doesn’t matter now, it seems
The passing has already come
I’m truly flattered now, it seems
…no!
I refuse.
I will not hold up your face any more
I will not validate your lies.
You are just a man like me…
- – - – - – - – - – - – - – - -
I have been humiliated
Entirely so
And yes, I feel it too,
The pressure to race, to win, to hold
From others as well as my own.
But when: to rest, to wait, to hold
One another instead of a prize,
In honest, willing thoughtfulness
Not dominant, prurient pride.

Where is the peace, my Lord?
Where is the desire to understand?
Where is the ignorance slight,
And thoughtfulness true?
Where are the battles finally won?
In your arms I’ll rest, my Lord
But to return to the darkness?
Truly Lord, what lies in the wastes?

The flesh and blood, claimed by One
Who dooms to ignorant fate.
And the hearts of some, claimed by One
Who choose to wait and relate.

Still, the darkness weighs heavily
The master’s voice yells again
But only so long as to give commands
And next the judge comes in.
The master points,
I feel ashamed
Then terrified as the gavel is raised
Over his head,
It weighs so much
He sweats but his eyes are blind
Then he lets it fall onto my chest
And my doomed life spatters
Over them and the walls
And finally, I am at rest.

A Giver of Fate

By men, general peace can be kept in every place,
And God will judge with his own grace.
And I haven’t the power to decide,
Where the fate of any man’s heart will reside.

“Do You Know, Where You Will Go?”

If it takes a man all that he has to get through the day, how can he be expected to judge eternity?

In an Old Land Once Called Home

Pictures, movies, memories of the past.
Why is the reaction so strong? To hear where people are now.
To not know. To know, but not know them anymore.
What is this feeling? Sadness accompanies it; panic as well, I think;
to run away–back to where I should be; to run towards it–back to where I’m from…