Wow! What a meadow is this,
To think, I did not look up from below,
In the woodland Manor Pits,
I hung my head down low,
In this rocky culvert water-hole.
Never did I know!
So close to the Great Blue Hill,
The crickets jumping everywhich way,
Like driving into snow,
The purple iron **** not bending at all,
" Excuse you good sir,"
From these gentlemen so tall.
Who's down there in those yellow flowers,
Sniveling their nose at me?
The snooty shrew, in the partridge pea.
Is that a Bobolink? surfing the grassy red awning,
In the bright August dawning.
With no need of a tree.
Stick my face inside a world,
Of pink pye ****,
The Bumble and the Honey dont mind me.
Let them come and register all the grass and flowers to vote,
Where shall your address be when the wind shall blow?
Have the policeman chase the laughter–
And the laughter scatter low,
Through the hare bells below the Bobolink,
In the shooting cricket snow.
Come bring your clipboard,
Chase the breeze unknown,
Would you like more blazing star?
Speak into the bee laden microphone,
Form a line!Walk abreast!
Forward march!
To find the cottontail with fixed bayonets,
It escapes through pantaloons,
Like the red admiral butterfly from the net.
Give a sermon from the pulpit of shining golden rod,
For the mysterious and unquantifiable beauty of God,
Warn against the liquorice hyssop's sting,
A Bumble bee up your shorts,
From all night bivoucking.
I would not know which– to be raptured to or from–
This meadow to the west of the great Blue in the August sun,
Never did I even know that hill was even this nigh,
Until upon crouching at the culvert brook–
I held my head up high.

I never ask for anything
that I don’t need,
I never beg,
I never shout,
I never pout.

I’m like a bird
with no wings
or no rout.

Giving money,
giving clothes,
giving everything that’s around you
and the closest to you,
but far nowhere near
the thought of giving support.

The money,
the nickels,
the dimes,
all of what can’t replace time
is the opposite of believing
in a single soul.

My mindset and motivation
doesn’t always run on money,
it runs on belief
and that is what keeps my engine going
during the hard times
of the storms and the clouds.

When I’m finally ready,
I will be shinny
more than the sun
has ever shinned
in front of the crowds.

I never do ask for what I need
because God already gave me
all of what I needed
deep down in my soul,
my heart,
and all of what’s around me—

the roof over my head
and a beautiful women
to motivate me,
to keep my engine going,
and to fight for what will be
forever ours in the future
and for what all we have left
on this earth.

I learned to hold my breath
the way leaves hold out for seasons change; continuously
relentlessly
bracingly -
both in anticipation of the storm
and caught beneath its savage gaze.
The piercing ditty,
melodious cries that uncoil us
springs forth like flashes of lightning -
fear that catapults towards another painful promise of sleepless nights and hope deferred yet held fast still.

Still
Still
I need only be still.
And I exhale
Your name on my breath
as I realise I’ve been holding air in my lungs, tighter than anxiety and fear clasped my heart causing the beats to come like torrential rain,
like tears of release, relief, remorse that fall, surrendering to the One who sees me.

I feel the load lift from my shoulders
boulder by boulder
9.12, 9.57, 11.26, 13.50, 16.10, 18.12
every confidence, horrifying utterance
weighed so heavy on my heart
absorbed into yours
piece for peace
Yahweh Yireh.

Still.
Still.
I need only be still.

Who takes the time to talk out of a donkey
but ignores every train car of the entire holocaust?
Sure does love his "chosen" people, right?

Yep, Yahweh.
That's YOUR guy.
The "world's" chosen daddy.
The ultimate GOD wars winner?
Defeater of Baal, Moloch, Marduk, Tiamat, Horus, Ra, etc.

So, Immortality, sounds amazing to you?
You do realize, you can’t hit the off switch?
Or even... run away.

Forever isn’t a gift.
To anyone or anything.

Imagine eternity spent with
all the same fake disturbing "lovely" people
you try to avoid at the grocery store,
or water cooler,
except now you can’t escape.
Not even into death.

Every smug, painted up, repressed, crotchety church lady,
every judgmental, animal murdering, red hat *****,
every “actually, let me tell you why that’s a mortal sin” guy,
"pray away the gay," "god hates ****"
at an AIDS funeral (?)
those kind of real winners.

All now immortal.
All your neighbors.
FOREVER!

In return for your collection plate scraps you get:
"Worship me, or eternal torture."
(Bro, if you have to threaten people into loving you,
maybe you’re not that lovable?)

Sunday morning eternal worship sessions on bad punch steroids.
Eternal consciousness?
That’s not paradise.
You're choosing a hostage situation, with extra steps.

MY only prayer
is that prayers are useless.

Gold? (In heaven, really??)
Gold streets that lead to a padded cell
for the already dead soul
you been trying so hard to keep pure.

Where does the Bible mention humor, art, creativity, or entertainment as a value again?
Oh, right. It doesn’t.

There probably aren't enough window views either,
and now we all have to compare
"stars in our crowns" forever,
cause nothin says "equality and justice"
like an eternity of being made to feel inferior.
So, so righteous.
Cause there's no do overs.

My only want
is for death to be the final freedom.

To those that want to exist forever,
it's clear you don't really think.
But try to realize the HELL you're actually praying for.

If my reward for being "good"
is to be trapped with you
AND your lazy, ineffectual, cruel, hate-filled sky daddy,
then I choose, PASS!

PASS.
Hard pass, that is.

That’s no ones heaven,
that’s a cloudy PTA meeting
getting molested by an overzealous catholic choir master
during a timeshare scam.

Just some reality for every idiot
that thinks "Hey wanna be with me?, Cool.
If you don't or act 'bad'
I'll chain you in my basement
and have a guy I "created" peel and burn your skin off
while he pokes you with a pitch fork forever."

That's normal relationship stuff, right?

Here on Earth you wouldn't run from that guy?
But it's okay to hang with em forever ?
cause gramma told you to
And hey, it’s HEAVEN. !
Yay.
lol.  There  WAS a good  reason  we  separated  church  from  state.
"was"

Desperate magicians
pulling symbols out of thin air,
pretending they have weight.
We glue stories to
death,
joy,
love,
hate,
and call it meaning,
but at the core it’s hollow,
a forced construct to keep our heads from snapping off
or caving  in
during  the  reality  of  unfathomable chaos.
Religion  is  condensed  hate masquerading as caring.
We  don't  care  about  anyone but  our  children or  our  parents.
Not  actually, not  systemically, not practically.

It’s brutal
and seems freeing at the same time:
   If ,  nothing HAS  to mean anything.
yet we obsessively insist   that  it does.
We carve sense out of
nonsense,
hope out of
despair,
and call it life
or  living.
If  we  the  people  took the  power  away
  from those  we  abdicated  it  to
what would  really happen ?
Freedom ?
No....
it's  our  recursive nature  
to  hurt
to enslave
to horde
to lust
to desire  to be  better.
Better  than  what?
Look at the  deer,  the  birds  , the  bears, the  fish
you see  them  punching the  clock ? Or  foreclosing on  Gramma ?
Handing over our
agency
to  a system
designed  so  that  thoughts  and  feelings  are  as meaningless  as circumstance .
Greed engineered  to fail  the  whole.   but  benefit  those  making the  rules. We chose  to blind  ourselves  and  worse  yet our  children.
Rules  are  an  an attempt  to control  the  future  based  on the mistakes  of  the  past.
  You and  your  voice  means  nothing
never has,
never  will .
  The  normalization of  brainwashing
  and  the  idea  that  asking a question  is  wrong,

thanks  Jesus.

How foolish of me to seek compassion and salvation in this world
When it was this world that destroyed my heart
Now I pray and wait for the righteous hand of the Lord
to soothe my shattered heart and purify my tarnished body.

Father, am I your strongest soldier?
Father, I am unclean
Father, will you wash me?
Father, please save me

The streets were filled with people;
Hustling, jostling, synchronised
scooting like a school of fish
humming excitedly, civilised.

A sudden surge of noise,
cacophonous shouts
Water Of Life springs forth
amidst the fractious routs.

I see the crown of his head;
He is loveliness and light,
and though I try to get to him,
I stumble and fall amidst the fight.

And I, a grain on the threshing floor
am trampled under foot
these years of pain and suffering
have not made me splinter-proof, but

I know that He can save me,
heal my body, mind and soul
I reach to touch the hem of His garment
and instantly I am whole.

He stops and asks “who touched my clothing?”
My entire being begins to shake,
with empty legs I kneel before Him,
I confess that my thirst, He slake.

His eyes burned into mine,
filled with love I have never known before
and with one breath He blew the chaf
and gathered me from the threshing floor.

Before my sin caused my suffering -
You built me a church;
Surrounded me with praying sisters
and gave me Your Word.
El Roi - mercy beyond mercy;
The goodness of my God.

Before madness engulfed me
You called me back to Your arms,
taught my heart a new rhythm
and my soul a new song.
El Shaddai - love beyond measure;
the goodness of my God.

Before I walked a step onto a ward,
You recycled my past;
Built with it understanding and hope,
turned darkness to light.
Jehovah Jireh - nothing is wasted with You;
the unfathomable goodness of my God.

For every pain - a comfort O Father.
For every joy - all thanks to Adonai.
I will follow You praising every day Jehovah Raah.
My every breath is for you Yahweh.