She is deep and coloured with story
she was picked accordingly by God like every other
she steals any peak of brightness and stores it in her warmth
she constantly desires the light that looks down on her
she is fed and enriched when she meets the sun
she glows and thrives once she meets him.
She is loved by many but hated much too,
she is a symbol of my culture
she will live with me forever
My skin is Dark and lovely
I shall not pass,
For I do not look like them.
I shall not want,
For I am not worthy of having.
I was made by your hands,
But the men of distant lands deem me worthless.
Teach your children to be kind,
My skin burns from their vengeful whips.
The devil resides within us.
That devil is pleasure,
That devil is temptation,
That devil has no cure.
That devil cannot be exorcised,
That devil is angel in disguise
With wings as long as its lies.
Its halo as black as the actions it wishes upon us
For its eyes conceal the gateway to its soul.
A soul created in the depths of hell
With a dash of pity;
Pity allowing the host to remember they are descendants of good,
With the thought process of the devil
And the intentions of God.
I touched His hand and
He hit me.
I ran my finger prints
over His callused thumb
over the cuts and bruises;
between the towers that were His fingers.
He gripped my tender fingertips with death
and pulled me under with his clutch.
He spilled sea foam into my ears,
filled my mouth with His salty tongue.
I saw love in shades of green and blue
heard His voice in strokes of black,
split my lip between His teeth and
washed my mouth with a copper jam.
I floated with Him for a time,
watched the waves collide over my head,
counted the grains of sand between strands of hair and
listened to reality through the heavy static of a radio.
I touched God's hand but
when I came to, they only wanted to know today's date.
In the street where a child has fell
Close by a crumbled bike
Through the tears come a prayer
The child is alive and well
Battle rage in the jungle war
While on the damp ground lay
In silence come a prayer
And life for many years more
Drugs and drink to survive the day
Life coming close to end
On the knees come a prayer
Then life turned a new way
Frail body from age tremble slight
A faint smile the face hold
To the light come a prayer
An old friend clasp the hand tight
next time you see me slit my throat
let my blood gush like it did on american streets
mute my screams like i did while the news got old
let your knife kill the silence and ignite the need for equality.
next time you see me pull the trigger on my foolish mouth
shut me up while i complain about my silver spoon
while children die of empty stomachs in the south
let the gun sound wake up people like me to reality.
next time you see me lynch my body
let it hang like decoration to show people that
the silent are like the violent
the mute are like police who shoot
the ones who are quiet while they feast on a meal
are like the crooked politicians who steal.
let my silence be the death of me
and my new found voice be the death of the thoughts of our enemy.
A face, a place, a heart of change
A lash, a laugh, a star in the dark
A tear, some wear, lived out well
A Boy, a Girl, a spirit that gels
A curve, a bump, all but none
A sound, a silence a state of heart
A beat, a whack, loves attack
A sign, a fate a decision to make
A repel a need, something to see
A rock, a stump, is it all done?
In you, in me, in her, in him
A water, a sky, in dirt and all worth
Only God decides what's not.
Now who am I to judge the earth?
Have you ever
rolled down your windows
to hear the train
as it rolls by?
Or do you keep
your music turned up,
heat on high,
I get so distracted
by all the competing
voices that I forget
to slow down
and really listen.
I find myself
looking for the approval
rather than seeking
of the One who
His voice is soft
because He doesn't
feel the need to
He whispers because
Someone who sees
the signal lights blinking
and who knows enough
to shut everything off,
roll the windows down,
In God's eyes being a kid
is how he knows when
you're ready to come home
but in your eyes being myself
ain't gonna win the first place trophy on the shelf
you think I'm not ready you think it's gonna take too long
By the time you ever come around
you'll be looking for me in an empty town
you said I'd stay, but you were wrong
In God's eyes I am who I am
I am the best that I've ever been
so when you do come back around, I'd be long gone
Rise! Oh, Mighty Jupiter;
Our Father now forgotten.
Come claim your rightful reverence.
Your pagan pedigree misgotten.
You were once our Shining Father;
Great King of all the Sky.
But you allowed your world to set
so a new Son could arise.
Zeus once ruled before you, and
Jesus became your heir.
Today not many realize
how we got from here to there.
I have considered for some moments
how our thoughts of god do change.
Plural notions of so long ago,
today can seem so strange.
We like to think we've come so far,
since those pagan days of yore.
Have we abandoned superstition
or just embraced it even more?
It was millennia ago
that Zeus ruled Mount Olympus.
He, their leader, more than father,
often beaten by hubris.
The Greeks, they worshiped leaders,
seeking standing in this forum.
Such desires, democratic
became their gods that ruled before them.
As the centuries moved on,
your new Latin home was Roma.
Your title too, transformed
to reflect a new persona.
To Zeus we added "Father",
or in Latin, pater, we prefer.
So Zeus, becomes Zeus-pater,
Zupater, then Jupiter.
Our names for gods reveal
exactly how they fill our needs.
Over time our needs evolve
and so a new name supersedes.
As Rome aged, it developed
a need to know god as a man.
To be one of his number.
To see themselves as of his clan.
This zeus, he can be talked to,
can be greeted and be known.
They "Hail Zeus" as HeyZeus.
And now its Jesus on the Throne.
Through such inquests we can see
the needs Gods fill evolving,
from cold, covetous Kings
to a begotten Son absolving.
We imagine in the Heavens
things to help us understand,
how a universe so endless
can be the realm alone of man.