A simple epiphany

Father, the heart, 

the heart , 

the heart lingers a lot longer 

in these troubled palpitations…

…the mind,

the mind surrenders its panicked wisdom 

to your loving word…

but there are damned enemies,

living here with ungodly intentions

fighting the progress of Virtue  

Like decent hyenas in the pit, 

we sit together, to herald : 

the coming of peace & insults alike…

in this righteous chaos, 

Deep in this valley, we reside 

with deluded & noble ambitions alike  

A special madness…

“Only prayer can drive this kind out” ~ JC

Mark 9:29

JC = Jesus Christ 

https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=H9jbO9STGoM

 Blunt, 

are the swords of poor angels,

they walk like indicted perpetrators of something silly,

inciting change with childish but legitimate anger, 

shifting something unimportant.

to sloppy observers:

they look poor.

empty.

& without divine energy.

yet to those of us, 

with weird eyes and too much pain, 

we look on, 

giggling with a mirth of endless intense,

ready to hear, 

and walk beside them, 

with nothing to offer 

but thanks and much much awe…

I wish I wish

 victims’ tears, 

activists’ rage,

the mauling of faultless children,

the sorrow of childless mothers,

All of that & more, 

These are valid things…

Yet,

the audacity of an aching heart, 

even with guilty verdicts,

the heart appeals for your compassion, 

hold back your vengeance, 

quell a bit, that hot madness in your heart.

 

cast not your stones, 

and if I may insist, 

Turn not even the other cheek, 

simply walk away, 

& leave it all to the discretion of the heavenly court, 

hear the preaching of inconvenient sermons, 

heed  the litigation of inconvenient theology, 

lay down your bullets, 

& feel instead, the wanting of a broken mother, 

and choose the other side of this 

ugly canvass, 

Plead with the angry conscience: 

To calm down & take the foolish path, 

Go in the direction of Golgotha…

and on that journey, 

through desperate supplications,

God willing, 

Everything will be okay.

 my condolences

Rest in peace AKA

https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=tUeWWRn1Pho

God’s child

 father, 

in me, is a fighter, 

of the sharpest wrath,

against they who 

incite my unproblematic mouth 

to dangerous dialogue…

…yet on this lonely January night, 

A new year 

of  bad & noble probabilities alike, 

I am asking you :

Do not abandon me to the righteousness

of my legitimate anger, 

Release me, your child.

from the folly of an indignant tongue.

and in prayer, receive , please my hottest lamentations.

(and let me rest finally from this insatiable rage)

and let no one, 

Not even enemies of worst transgressions,

suffer the vengeance of my unbecoming tongue…

And yet, oh God! 

let me never coddle the quiet of cowards 

teach me instead, how to speak, 

So the target of my words 

may absorb the essence of it all, 

And wether they repent or not, whatever they do! 

Oh God!

may I cheerfully abdicate  that uncertainty 

to your loving WILL… 

Amen  

https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=eENkeQH_dow

an ode to dead souls (II) ~ celestial orphans

 you see, 

 the world is in a monologue,

 talking only to itself,

 seeking creation, 

 probing nature, 

 Rattling the elements, 

hoarding Yahweh’s blessings.

on that proverbial table,

we fatten the diet of our senses.  

  

we, genius skeletons,

preaching God’s irrelevance

with boastful tongues, 

 the world is not looking for Him,

 A new year only resuscitates the

 the body’s dying vigour, 

I wish us, profound awareness of 

coffins, tears & final extinction?   

…we’re celestial orphans in a lonely galaxy.   

There exists a divide 

broken only by that Nazarene, 

To not pursue him,

 is to immerse the soul in sleep,

 a cosmic neglect of a beautiful God 

 to  blissfully die  into the irreversible… 

and in death, 

to forever reside there in that terrible unknown, 

alienated from a loving God. 

Scilla's prayer

shhhhh, 

quiet now,

shhhhh, 

oh my soul, 

let it go,

let this demonic wave pass, 

let the poor child flee,

let her go to the happy madness of 

we who’ve  braved the chaos of broken hearts and lonely days

let the crying lady 

enter her era of silence and observation 

let her weep, weep, weep,  and suddenly stand!

let her run hurriedly into this abyss, 

let her  test willfully, the stupid of her curious,

shhhhh

quiet now, 

oh my soul, 

let it go...

she's busy and empty,

a meek little sheep, 

let it go...

let her seek this silly paradise, 

where the God she loves resides, 

let her walk…

let her pray 

let her try, 

let her find this evasive thing

* from the rising sun to the shifting moon*

everyday of her life 

Oh Yahweh! 

 meet her there...

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dnzAqvEpDh4 

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=G46G78NTJRc

An ode to dead souls

 

we're the dead. 

talking sceptres

giggling skeletons and monologues.

   

tongue is very soft & giddy. 

but the dialogue follows a taut path.

we believe in the speeches we ululate:

in this world,

the choicest path is to journey to self,

to follow the vocal heart.

appease its loudest desires 

and say oneday to the gods: "we kept the faith" 

"...finished the course" of this unstable little organ. 

 

and so we die babbling to the grave 

dipping the mouth in many many dialogues

summiting the apex of the world’s wisdom 

at our ashes we arrive 

tilling  the world’s monologue

gleaning from it, the glorious curtsy of men

approaching the grave, 

with loud ideas about the staunch cul-de-sac  

Moving into the ethereal, trusting the gospel of many tongues

 

renouncing the narrow path!

yielding to the many extremes of the wider road 

...amusing self …

delightful souls, we are. 

dying unrestrained

…slowly to the irreversible oblivion