some words are like mirrors
i could see a reflection
of me.

Two figures dressed in red and black robes  sat on a bed in a room that was illuminated in red light.  The larger figure looked at the smaller figure and said "This is the day we've been waiting on.  It's ok to be nervous but don't be scared.  You are the sacred vessle."
"I'm not afraid.  I'm just ready to get this over with" said the smaller figure.
"That's just what I wanted to hear Levi.  It's time to get started.  Please follow behind me" said the larger figure.  "Yes mother" said Levi.  Levi followed his mother out of his room and down a hall that was illuminated in red light.  
As Levi followed behind his mother he asked the question "Why do we use red lights to light the compound?"  "Because red is the color of blood.  Blood is sacred " said the tall dark skinned woman.
"When Priest summons the spirit Evil remember not to fight it.  Just let it take over" said the tall dark skinned woman.  "Ok" said Levi.
When Levi and his mother entered the worship area she had him stand in front of the altar and the clergy.  "Thank you Harriet for escorting Levi to the altar" said a tall figure wearing a black hooded robe.  "You're welcome Priest" said Harriet.
Priest stepped down from the altar holding a baby creature in his right hand and a knife in his left hand.  Priest stabbed the baby creature in it's stomach and ripped it opened.  He stood in front of Levi and dipped his finger in the baby creature' s blood and anointed Levi' s forehead with it's blood.
"Bring me The Book Of Evil" said Priest.  A short figure wearing a black hooded robe stepped down from the altar and brought Priest The Book Of Evil.  Priest turned to the chapter evil and began reading.
"As the night blinds the sight of the male and female and Death stalks the living and Hate stands on the grave of Love only then will Evil reveal itself.  I offer this vessel to the spirit Evil.  Come forward Evil I summon you."
When Priest finished reading from The Book Of Evil the red lights that illuminated the compound began to flicker off and on.  From out of no where a gust of wind began to circle around Levi.  Slowly the wind transformed into black smoke.  Levi was over taken with fear and unable to move.  The black smoke entered through Levi's gaping mouth and took possession of him.
Levi shook violently and fell to the floor.  "Levi are you all right?" asked Priest.  Levi stood to his feet and looked Priest in his face with eyes as black as death.  "The child is no longer in control" said Evil.  Evil walked up to Priest stool his hand in Priest's stomach and pulled out his intestines.
"LEVI YOU KILLED YOUR FATHER!" screamed Harriet as she ran over to the lifeless body of Priest.  "I am Evil.  Like I told the child's father Levi is no longer in control but for amusement everyone may still call me Levi" said Evil as he looked at Harriet.  Evil pointed at the figures on the altar and told them to get rid of Priest's dead body.  "Yes Levi" said the robed figures.
"Harriet go gather the members of Sinister and bring them to the worship area" said Evil.  Harriet walked out of the worship area and to the office of Iniquity.  She turned on the intercom and with a commanding voice Harriet tells the members of Sinister to come to the worship area.  Harriet turned off the intercom and stood in the office for a few seconds.  
What have we done?  I can't believe I let my ten year old son be the vessel to that thing.  I can't believe we were stupid enough to summon that thing thought Harriet.

Written by Keith Edward Baucum

When love to God  grows
Peace  blooms in full

I broke up with God
at our favorite eatery
in our favorite booth.

We settled into familiar creases
and asked for the usual.

My eyes lazily staring at fingers
stirring the straw around the ice cubes,
God cautiously spoke up:

“Is something wrong?”

“Nothing.” (Thinking about the dormant phone
concealing behind the lock screen
the open Facebook tab
lingering over the relationship status section.)

They silently mused over the laconic reply,
til the waitress showed up with the food.

“Thank you!” God blurted with agonizing alacrity.

I received the sustenance lifelessly
and aimlessly poked at the burgers and fries.

The waitress eyed me with vague inquisition,
popping a bubble in the gum between
big teeth, refilled my water
and pirouetted hastily.

We ate in ostensible harmony,
the silence gripping like a chokehold,
the visible anxiety and subdued resolve
settling like a stifling blanket
over the child waking
from a nightmare—

Til we couldn’t breathe,
and I ripped back the covers
and looked into the eyes
of my tormentor.

“It’s not you, it’s me.”

God, taken aback by the curt statement,
dropped their burger with shaking hands,
silently begging with wetting eyes
a greater explanation.

So I elaborated:

“It’s not you, it’s me.

For your immaculate conception
was created by human hands,

your adages rendered obsolete
by human words,

your purpose and plan for us
distorted by human nature—

I cannot hate myself any longer.

I cannot pretend to know you at all.

Who my mother and father say you are
is not who my friends think you are,
nor my teachers, my pastor,
the president, Stephen Hawking,
Muhammed, the KKK, Buddha,
the Westboro Baptist Church,
Walt Whitman, Derek Zanetti,
******,
and Billy Graham.

I am told you care who I bring into bed (and when),
and what movies I watch,
and what music I listen to—

I have not heard what you say about
child soldiers, the use of mosquitos,
or the increased destruction of the earth
which you proudly proclaimed your creation,
or the poverty and disease and famine
which has ridden so many of your children—”

God interjected,
“But you’re chosen!”

I snorted,

“You say I’m chosen
to spend eternity with you—
why me?

Why’d you pick me among
thousands, millions, billions?

I’ve been told I’m ‘chosen’
since birth
by others like me—

those with fair complexion,
blue eyes,
blonde hair,
a firm overt ****** attraction towards women,
and a great big house
with immaculate white fences
delineating their Jericho.

I’ve already fabricated eternity
here among the other ‘chosen’
and there is a world of suffering
right outside the fence
and I see them
through the window of my bedroom
every day.

Am I chosen,
if I don’t vote Republican

Am I chosen
if I am Pro-Choice

Am I chosen
if I cohabitate with my girlfriend

Am I chosen
if I never have kids

Am I chosen
if I say ‘Happy Holidays’

Am I chosen
if I don’t want public prayer in schools

Am I chosen
if I don’t want a Christian nation

Am I chosen
if I don’t repost you on my wall
or retweet your adages?

I’m tired
being the ubermensch,
for it has not brought me
happiness
and I blame you.

I will not ignore
the cries of the suffering
believing it is I
who is destined to live
in bliss.

I will not buy
Joel Osteen’s autobiography(ies).

I will not tithe
you my money
for a megachurch
when another homeless shelter
closes down.

I will not tell a woman
what to do with her body,
or a man
that he is a man
if they say they are not.

I am neither Jew nor Gentile,
and I will stand with
my brothers and sisters
of Faith and Faithlessness,

Gay and Straight,
Black and White,

and apart from these extremes
free from absolutes
the ambiguous, amorphous
nature of Humankind
which I praise.

There is much pain and suffering
in this world,
potentially preventable,
but hardly can I believe
it’s part of your plan
to save
me.

I will not be saved
if we are not
all saved—

not one will burn
for my divinity.

The gates will be open to all—
and perhaps you believe that too,
but I’ve gotten you all wrong
and that cannot change,
as long as there is
mortality, and
corruption, and
power, and
lust, and
greed.”

God whined, growing bellicose,

“It is through me that you will find eternity,
I am the one true god!
I am the God of your fallen ancestors,
it is because you have fallen short
that you need me!”

I replied, growing in confidence,

“We have all fallen short,
yes,
but we are also magnificent.

We have evolved,
we have created,
we have adapted,
we have survived.

We have built empires,
and we have destroyed them.

We have cured diseases,
and we have created them.

We have done much in your name.
We’ve done good,
and we’ve done evil—

And unfortunately it’s all about
who you ask.

Your name is a burden on the oppressed
and a weapon of the oppressor.

You are abusive, God.

You tell me you are jealous.

You tell me apart from you I will suffer for an eternity.

I’m scared to die, yet want to die,
because of you.

You have made life a waiting room
that is now my purgatory. It is

Hell On Earth.

So you see,
it’s not you,
it’s me—
a mere mortal
who has tried to put a face
to eternity
and it has left me
empty.

And also,
it’s me,
for I have learned to love me,
as I have expelled your self-loathing imbibition,
and the deleterious zeal
I have proclaimed
through ceaseless
trepidation
and self-flagellation—

I have learned to love me
by realizing I am not inherently evil,
that my body is not evil,
that my mind is not evil,
and, ultimately, that
there is no good
and there is no evil.

My body is beautiful,
my mind is beautiful,
this world is beautiful,
and we are destroying it
waiting for you to claim
us.

I leave you
in hopes to see you
again one day,

and perhaps you will look
different than I have
perceived or imagined,

and in fact
I certainly hope so.”

Just then the waitress strolled back up
with a servile smile:
“Dessert?”

“No, thank you,”
I smiled politely.

And with that,
I paid the check,
and took a to-go box—

walked out into the evening rain
to my car,
put on a secular song
that meant something real to me
and drove off
into the night—

feeling for the first time
free
and alive.

.
Once a little boy woke up scared,
crying and calling for his mother.
Once an adult man woke up scared,
crying and calling for his lover.

For the boy there is no answer,
his mother is just never there.
For the man there is no answer,
his lover being just thin air.

You see the little boy is now a man,
who only ever wanted to be loved.
The adult man was the little boy,
who only ever needs to be loved.

So put your arms around the child,
show him love and teach him joy.
And put your arms around the man,
remember, he really is just a little boy.


© Pagan Paul (28/01/17)

With no point
Arrow will distract itself

Being alone is having one eye.

When you walk a thousand mile
You can rest or pause for a while
But never surrender to show
You will go and continue to grow

Sing your song to them all
Keep your faith when you fall
Stand and start over again
Reflect every now and then

This world would be unfair to you
Keep the good things that you do
Learn to adjust to the tests
Just be yourself and do your best

Never give up,  never stop
Keep climbing and make it to the top
Just keep the faith and do not fear
The right time for you is coming near