Matthew 15:27

Young Americans
we are we are
the youth
imagination:

podded
appeasers
spacebook-myface
twits and tweeters
trails of trash
in walled street parks
reciprocal dispose able
stay inside after dark
two can't
uncle sam
fruit loops
yes we am
a crowd? please,
you're not neo-post modern
a candle in the windy city
jumping on whats caught on
not even medieval
weaseled by evil
into thinking true
a sleep over will do
but they wont even allow you
to occupy the public space
they know you're afraid
of another
kent state
they the masters
you the bait
you'll swallow the hook
they patiently wait
getting jerked around
like a tricky dick
no robin hoods
just poor and sick
just crooked crooks
that babble like brooks
we pawns
they the rooks
super powers
full on selves
writing our history
melting ice shelves
devouring liberty
no justice at all
we begging for crumbles
if they allow them to fall
down to we dogs
as they feast our souls
burning to ashes
and we are the coals
we fall asleep
to their lies
this is their banquet
they cover our eyes
with a security blanket
Tienanmen square tank it
we bend at their will
bout time we break it
unclose-able market
they drive the sports car
they pull up we park it
they run while we crawl
displaced in this place
just rats in a race
self imprisoned
self encased
our freedom?
they bank it
painfully stabbing
into heart stake it
they net us
till worthless
bottomless
their purse is
filling their bellies
not showing nor telling
yet we eagerly buy
whatever they're selling
we rent out their dwelling
greed's thirst we're quelling
all for the their rush
at a closing bell's ring
its bull shit
you know
they reap
while we sow
still plowing
we their fields
dreams buried 'neath
their surplusing yeilds
peasants unite
now's feudally realistic
these not clever words
I'm not pessimistic
this world's not pretend
it is time to defend
our own futures they lend
return what they send
they make us their slaves
it is time to make waves
rock lets the boat
come out of your caves

theirs not a hand that is the slightest bit helping
rather it brings fear and anticipational yelping

even a dog will beg for master's table scraps
and learn to accept the brutalizing attacks

yet hand that feeds the starving soon bleeds
because only so long is this leash that it leads

distillornery

those damn noises
their footsteps
their mindless laughter
who cares what they are talking about
dont they understand
that below them is a poor
foot sore girl
who works too hard
gets kicked from inside
too hard
to have patience for their foolishness
no doubt they dont care
their alcoholic
their dumbing down
their zombifying
their reality numbing
is too important to them
to give a shit
yet i am witness
to a poor girl tormented
by pounds from above
that disturb her much needed slumber
she works too hard
she tries too hard
she strives too hard
to make rent for this her space
to have it selfishly invaded
night after sleepless night
by some dumbed down
immature
worthless pricks
who are wasting away their futures
wasting away their hard earned
for some cheap high
that will get them nothing
less than nothing
backwards
bastards

TooGetHer

In the beginning
in the before
when lost I was searching
for something, something more
before the term faith
was one I could define
this was written.
we are touched.
finger of divine.
crossed our paths
forever entwined
neither straight
nor curved
all dotted lines...
etc... forever
never not ending
when found we the other
started returning, to heaven ascending.
though imperfect
as all of this world is
the choice is past natural
not ours, it is His.
we are supposed; predisposed
open to the possible
hours a book unwritten
never-ending, never closed.
chosed before we could even choose
the struggle's never trouble
when we be completely (in sign language you complete me)
so fused.

Jung el Book

instead of angst im filled with thanks
to the tao of the all ways
surrounding Espirito Santo
if only we were all bears
no bad news
winning the world
pooh or hoop jumping
woozles and lumps-heffa
im back on words
up on surds
Lady of Lourdes
no i aint
a yet made saint
no Bernadette Soubirous
burnin in debt
sober us
all steps
covered with snakes
Cobra-ous
earthly matters
matter not
hard to teach
witnessed not taught
they paved Paradise
put up or
shut up
parking lot
SUV's
cover up
garden?
fleur de lis

Sensory Museum

the smell of damp leaves and of fires warming homes brings me backwards
to the memories of moments just like these
they come around and surprise me
like a snapshot of my youth i recall those same captured times
when i rewind to them in my mind it allows me perspective
they show me where i was and where i am
no doubt this will happen again
it motivates me to overcome that which holds me back
from becoming the best version of myself
so that on some distant afternoon
not unlike this one
i can again reflect into the pool of my existence
and bask in the journey
from the now to the then
and back forward again
amen

Tails for Heads

whats the worst is not knowing. like playing a game of poker and the tells are not showing

i wanna

i gotta

i want

in vain

i shall not

want to

want to 

so much

the flow is a go upon

like gay apparel 

to be donned

up on

we now

and how

now now

brown

cows jumping

over moons

cats 

cradles

silver spoons

laugh little dog

thats a good sport

the roof is on fire

get that fiddler 

a glass of water

Step up

cool
safe
one world
under One
big on the ups
down to the lows
sickness
witt un less
global collective
balls wreckage
bashing through walls
via ear drumbs
sound the air raid
sirens calling
damn this techno
so much
funn
y
and
how
it makes one real
eyes in the backs
beyond heads
sayin now
heard
simon
says

X-PLODEY

 i miss you oodles like u be the sauce and im noodles. in mine mind you like mines i walk on it you are; rather run you circles in and around it and pictures like doodles explode as if they grenade eating poodles....

Kof Holy See

Brothers brothers at arms
at length we stand
together
attention
pay head to word
writ
in
stone
guarding the kings castle
he is not home
saints and sinners
it will end as it was
begin
faith
sweat not when come
fire spat from ice cold
tongues
lungs that breath
and thank for air
heirs
guard
thrones
angelic
messianic crypt raiders
defend from enemies
return
send
sent on missions
to missions
far away
secrets remain
secrets the same
never fortunes
never fame
selfless service
one body
truth told
days of new
knights of old