There are a few of us out here
Browsing through deep canopies
Where the stars linger on our breath -
Like dew on a log.
There are a few of us out here
Blazing trails that discontinue in the fog
Where love is made, and blankets unfurled
Like knee patches, worn
By the miles

And miles

And miles.

ripe fruit unconfined to the width of fruit

frightfully absent-minded of it's metaphor

burgeoning with sweet to burst-

...’The slowest devastation of a perfect sphere.


Bloated in the sun

at the peak of yes

a trifle to a god; and everything He meant.

the raw sub conscience of Love Itself.


Forest olde and valley wide

heeps of time upon time in a bramble of lush

vast with green enough to burst

...the joyous vegetation of a perfect world.


Garrulous in the sun

at the peak of yes

a testament to god at His first attempt.

the sheerest genius of Love

Thyself.

Paper Lanterns

Your twin roots inflate and detach
as they form themselves, Arms
of golden battered skin, your bamboo hollows
Sway as the sun-split winds blow through you.

When you breathe, your heart is light too
and small, as if swallowed and held
between fluorescent sheets,
rocking on the cradle of the wind.

Up, up in the wandering, burning blue
Slipping away the earthen bonds, you rise.
And, with silent lifting thoughts, you withdraw
into the sanctity of space.

Adults in their infancy -So scared of death
      walking, not living, the air has no taste billowing into the chest
Un-wanton of cleansed perception to see that life is our greatest gift  
and the time for I love you's kind words
and farewells is now
here on this holy ground I kiss.
      
         Among the most prized possessions the  beauty of this world is not one of them.
       Self dis-serving themselves sitting back watching the wheels spin.
  Feeding odium & abhorrence with sloth and vain pride in
luxuries once unknown and too soon will never again.
  
                        Take a moment my dears to struggle for each breath.
                        Go a pampered day with no water or bread.
                         Go without and go alone & for once pay your debt

                        No pill or prayer will cure this blindness of which you
                               were born and breed
                        Your outrage just suggests
                              That, the truth, to you, is dead.

Indignation is a vanity used by those who choose faith not seeking  truths.
  That and the following, to me,  was illuminated by a great
sayer of sooths
  To understand your  God
  You must first learn those synoptic chronicles
  A thousand  Gods  have told
  For years A thousand fold
You'll Do well to avoid the entanglements of those self  proclaimed        anointed  
  And  obviate  the pique they stir as they **** you even not disappointed
    
    Treasures you seek lie just behind the dark veils of bother you have hand woven to shroud you dominion
     Its no surprise honesty offends and ****** you like a knife
     Such little attention is given to the exigency's  of life
from the lost you take direction
and from fools wisdom
you adopt your school of thought
     Gods cares not what that chump told you
         with smiling  words your soul was bought
    No ceromony exists to convince God to Exalt
                 those that neglect the intellect
                       & from him our powerful thought
             To find a great friend, They first must be sincerely sought

  Mankind long from its womb still suckles the *******
Dispute in that Name brought atrocious inquest and unrest
  Just yesterday we took our first steps
Into some shade and out of the sun
and today we go no where 'less
                                             it's an all out run
   No one will reach their potential if on those ******* we stay stubbornly hung
   Our right of passage is on the horizon and there is greatness to be done.
    Its been made clear our Maker does whats best for us when He does nothing at all.
     Only you can scale your prison wall. You are the warden! And who is he gonna call?
                  Free from loving one, frees you to Love All
                          
                     Now see what I see waiting
                                            (for you)
                       The old ways and ruins made way
                                              (for you)
                         The comfort of fine cotton over head
                                                 (for you)
                            On which the sky bleeds light
                                           As a sacrifice  Each night
                                                   (for you)
                             It seeps into your soul
                                        Sustaining the mind on furlough
                                                     ( free you)
                               Oh woe to those who  choose  not to embrace
                                                       (the gift of you)
                                  To them the inevitable & enviable road
                                                        (bef­ore you)
                                     lies in wait, but the golden road will afford you

They baptized all us children
At that old country church
They saved this wild young crazy man
From going bad to worse
That old preacher took my hand there
And he walked me to the creek
When he dipped me in the water
He knew who I would meet...

I'LL ALWAYS LOVE
OLD SWEETWATER CHURCH
THEY TAUGHT ME I SHOULD LOVE THE LORD
AND PUT MY NEIGHBOR FIRST
IF YOU EVER DRINK THE WATER
IT SURE WILL EASE YOUR THIRST
I'LL ALWAYS LOVE
OLD SWEETWATER CHURCH

When we sung Amazing Grace
We sung it from the heart
The words from that old preacher man
They always hit their mark
We could feel that spirit move us
Up there on our front row seat
That good old time religion lives
In that chapel by the creek

CHORUS

Bridge:    
Now sometimes when I wander
Too far from the truth
I look back and remember
The lessons of my youth.....

CHORUS

From a song with vocalist Jeff Allen

Life is bigger- than you; me-

you treading mire
choosing these heavy eyed tragedies over religion

me holding on
so tightly to that comforting distance always-
In my eyes the comedy is that I'm losing
these confessions once spoken-
I say so much under covers throwing
faith  at empathetic shadows.

Can't we hear our better demons?

Feel sympathies?

God's abandoned as we protest
a dismal fantasy over truth- and off our knees
we use cold notions of what's "real"... like fools-
Our ironic hint towards the centuries
as we lose our religion- trading flaws for other flaws

Pretending all the time

God was just a dream.

there’s this girl I used to know,
an old friend of mine,
she used to wear her hair in yellow ribbons
and watch the world through eyes so blue they made the ocean look faded.
she told me stories filled with “happily ever afters” and “prince charmings”,
and she believed in the power of God and she told me good always beats evil.
her long brown hair draped over her narrow shoulders like a cape,
and to me she was just as super as any hero ever could be.
she always said that there was a reason we were all here, and that
she was gonna find her reason and God was gonna give her his light.
I believed every word she ever said.
her daddy died when we was twelve years old, and I remember sittin’
with her and crying on her stoop, watchin’ the death limo take her daddy
away like he was a package that needed to be taken to heaven.
she stopped wearing those yellow ribbons after that, and she stopped tellin’ her
stories to me…that made me sad ‘cause nobody at my house ever told me stories.
her eyes stopped lookin’ at mine, and i just about forgot what color they were after a while.
she said that God wasn’t real no more, and that there was no reason to take her daddy like that.
I couldn’t think of a reason either.
her hair stopped lookin like a cape, on the count of she cut it all off one day when
she was real sad.
she told me that she didn’t wanna live no more, and that she wanted to be with her daddy…..wherever he was.
she kept on livin’, but instead of her momma tuckin’ her in at night, Jack Daniels did.
she told me he made the pain go away, but I didn’t understand who he was and how he did it.
we were both too young to understand any of it, but I’ll never forget the day when her light finally came.
when we was fifteen I found her bleedin’ all over her bathroom, her pretty blue eyes rolled back, her hair messy and matted, and a pair a scissors in her hand.  
through all the blood, through all my tears, I saw her in a way I ain’t seen in years.
she looked so beautiful, the way I remembered her before her daddy got taken.
she looked at peace, like she couldn’t wait to get all wrapped up like a present and sent to heaven.
she was with her daddy, and hell, even though nobody else thinks it’s right, I believe that was God’s reason for her.

And** then the world breaks
Light is moved by shadows
Never will it be the same
Gave to us by misunderstanding
The upheavel we experience
Darkness rises from its hiding place
A new Earth begins to shape
Chance is given to those left behind
To regain their lost dignity
Shine like the new stars created by those lost

Where is this God you Christians speak of?
I don’t see him on the news.
Or in the paper when villages burn.
I believe a part of Him resides in me,
yet I am more powerful than ever He be.
Can He save a French African girl from drowning?
I can, and have.
Can He feed the hungry in the shivering cold?
I have not, but at least I tried and will try again.
I am my own Creator, he had no hand in this.
My ancestors created Me, not He.
And I will continue to create, for all of time, if only in memory.
He may have made the locks, but I hold the key.
Why turn to a ghost for aid?
When I was lost, I found my way,
and I was down a map and hadn’t a clue.
I am a savior of children divine.
I have no reason to believe I am not a God.
But don’t expect me to save you.

Who are we? What are we but
Small men? How can we lay claim
To the grace of God, above
All other things? I am no greater
Than the least of you, nor am I
More enchanted by the ways of
Life and love itself.
But I am humble in my humility,
Strong in my weakness,
Open and able, ready to
Take my place in the ways
Of all there is.
Who are you to choose otherwise?
Who are you to walk a new path?
Where were you when these
Words were spoken, these ideas
Spilt forth like blood on the sands?
Carry your impotent pride, your
Detestable nature, lay it at the
Feet of your blind idols,
Protest the truth and
Attest the falsehoods you so eagerly embrace.
I am not here to wait for you,
I am not here to show you the way;
You move your own feet, you
Level your own ground. You
Lay your own roots, and you
Lay them deep.
We are not men of aid or compassion,
We are not men of guilt or regret;
Strive to move forward, rid yourself of
Chains and shackles.
Come forth and bask
In the light of the sun,
Like small men.

The storms that frightened me even when I were on shore,
now surrounds, tries to blow and mingle me through its course;

On the shore, I prayed long and long for a port
to stand against all adversities, whether or not there a storm;

What shall I do struggling with the storms;
but to wait for that moment when can I win over the storm.