My good congregation, I take the podium!
I have been asked to speak--to preach!
Where are you demons, devils, acrimonious angels?
Why do you submit yourself to actions so odious?
Stand up! Do not allow yourself to be leeched
of your life! Do not suffer the unfaithful!
No! I will not allow my flock to be misled!
I will not stand by as these good souls are drained!
So, rise! Cast your burdens back upon the bastards!
Throw them like stones; let their sins be bled!
Who has had enough of being perilously pained?
Who is fed up with with all their dastardly disasters?
Now! Now is the time to undo the oppression!
Show them your anger--unleash the frustration!
I ask, who among you is without disdain?
To Hell with them! Let's teach them a lesson!
Our lives are ours! Deny them castration!
You have nothing to lose, and everything to gain!
(I give myself very good advice, but I very seldom follow it.)
I swallow it
and the words you deserved to be served I
choked them down like
Maybe they will make me better.
But the better part of me was mixed bitter in so many sermons I so easily spit at others.
I’ll save you from my presumption.
Prescription: hold your peace.
When a change in habit is needed in life,
seems that Alone is the best feeling and
Isolation is the best place to be.
Can't keep looking back and thinking,
"What Have I done?"
"What a fool I was!"
Preach no more.
Just keep the mouth shut.
It's in the past.
My being open makes good people come and
Far too fast.
Right doesn't always remain,
wrong fades away after more in life comes to
distract us from the past.
Nothing stays the same.
Sorry old habit, I'll have to leave you
I let you own me,
now I must remember only I own myself.
Preach to myself for now on.
They don't have to know everything about
I practice what preach, and pray to God with closes eyes. Praying he watch over me through happy and hard times, and that he is there even I can see him with open eyes, I feel his presence by my side. No evil weapon forged against, will equal my demise. Instead of killing, multiply my strength 1,000 times.
A good friend with a basset-hound face is on his feet
The rest of us are weak
as newborn puppies,
from the late hour, the numbing glory in our lungs
But, mostly from laughter.
This young man is a connoisseur of altered states, an apprentice butcher, and one of the chosen few who breath music in and out effortlessly
And he's preaching
Three minutes before,
he had been happily day dreaming
Three feet from the floor
with the boob-tube beaming
The man on the set shows us how to stir-fry chicken
Our mouths water, but we're content to sit.
But with the fire coming up that glass pipe
and setting his boiler to churn along feverish
He caught an insight
or it snared him, like a spiderweb across a peaceful hiking path
On his feet
He was beginning to see connections
And had to share them with someone
I'm a limp doll at this point, fully immersed in the body-high
Thoughts are glacial, movement glacial
Oh, my friend.
You're talking to the wrong audience
We can't hope to see it as you do.
But he keeps on keeping on.
And tells us a thing or two.
Is like sex.
As our laughter dies down to a dull roar, he continues
The speeds and heats and intensities can all vary
to give you countless subtle differences.
But the true constant is care
Loving attention to the finest detail.
His brows furrow, his toes test the fibers of the rug
and he glances back up, and I imagine a podium in front of him.
Or maybe it's like Jazz. He says.
We learn, or glean out, how things are supposed to happen
But in the moment, the twanging instant
Beautiful things will themselves to exist
and they defy all well-laid plans.
Find the truth, for whatever it may be about why men are killing each other it does not kill God; if he exists then the history of man's inhumanity towards one another and why they may puzzle you with their behavior is irrelevent. Stop justifying that which is the province of Caesar. Are you concerned with being a world power or with being a fisher of men's souls? Regardless of your religion, read the sermon on the mount carefully, then ask yourself what is being asked of you. Then when you see someone who is different than you, you will know what to do. Drop your sword. Do not be afraid. For what you profess to believe is not about how or when you die but about how you live. You cannot judge. Think of your own nature and how you must appear to God. You do not know why another man acts the way he does. You do not know why he is afraid of you because you are only concerned with why you are afraid of him. Elevate yourself above geopolitical politics. Protect the rights of all men. Honor your God in peace. He does not require your help against those who do not believe exactly as you. That is not what is being asked of you. If he is God, then he will never die no matter what happens on Earth. But is it his will that lives or dies in your life? Who decides? You know what to do.
The start of us being finished
We will rise for our pain
Lying on our backs will be anguished
The past will be a hellish dream
What beats inside is stronger
We will make change happen
The fallen must stand up so we can roam again
The souls that have always been at the bottom will get their chance to reign
Our blood runs thicker than the iron of your guns
The unrest will be rested once your down fall has begun
There will be no evidence of our oppressors
The world once owned, will be set free of the machine
A world of hate and greed will no more be seen
This is a promise
One day the world will be left in solace
They can't end us
We'll all go down in revolution
Dig that fucking razor DEEPER into your wrists.
Practice what you preach, and show us you're not afraid.
Don't just scratch with a pin and claim to slash them.
Practice what you preach. Practice what you preach.