Not ******'s wealth, nor faith of Abraham,
Both here and there, defeated's what I am.

****** Mary, Mary Jane
Bible paper love

Ripping out your scriptures
Pray to God above

Lick the paper, next to Jesus,
He didn't sign up for this

Sent to live and die,
Drown in Serrano's ****

Worshipping thy neighbor
Drinking too much wine

Lungs that choke and cough,
God's perfect design

Flick the ashes on a cross
Higher than Babel

He's testing you, testing us,
A bite of sweet apple


****** Mary, Mary Jane
Bible paper love

Political turmoil grows
OJ is ungloved

Another day in paradise
Justice system fails

Incriminate the working class,
Starbucks runs this jail

Lock away the hippies,
**** your nirvana

Prison complex slavery,
Blame marijuana

Scientific research blooms,
Godless atheist

Smoking from Corinthians
American patriot

"So Man created god in his own image,in the image Man,he created him,Pagan and Non-Pagan he created them"

Nestled within these rhyming stanzas, you will see,
The six bothersome questions which plague me daily.

Is the bible a book of real history,
Or a book of absurdity and fantasy?

Is Jesus the Christ the only way to heaven,
Or a fraud who tricked us with clever deception.

Perhaps Yahweh is just a man-made deity,
Who ancient people invented to deceive me?

beasts made out of pieces of clay
my God is an artist
the reason he makes these beasts is to play
with the clay when it hardens

angels feel no danger in the throes
my God is so fearless
don't try to look his almighty in the toes
when his steps are so careless

I study and read about it
Sing songs in the glory of it
Carve it on your tongue
and lips
Tattoo, etch and kiss it
on my hips

Interpreter of dreams,
you see the future
once a cynic but it seems
with you I am sure.
So I kneel and crawl
slowly towards your temple,
I am a broken statue
that only you could reassamble.

I pray, please do not humble
yourself before any god,
for you know your words
are worth more than gold.
I praise and worship you
as my one and only king,
even your sins are the
absolute truth I'm praying.

For you I would blindlessly
find a new Babylon,
for in your holy name
I saw eternal salvation.
Darling, there is no more
unbearable exile
than being far away
from you in miles.

Still I exalt you and in you
I put all my faith,
for you are the beast
my demons see as bait.
Yet you call on me
like an angel from your dream,
my songs are whisper,
while my poems are screams.

I found you one fateful,
raging night in the lion's den
we ran away with the wolves,
never returned again.
My religion is loving you
and blessing your name.
One touch and forgetting you
is a losing game.

In your quiet I found my
passing repentance,
yet our love is a loud,
deafening covenant.
On my knees,
I cast away your burdens,
in your name
I can move mountains.

When I was born the theme for the shower was Noah’s Ark, which if you don’t know is the story of hundreds and thousands of People being drowned by their father because He made them in a way that He knew He had no choice but to hate.
And because He had the power.
I always think this is a strange inheritance
To give a Child:
Countless mothers, thrashed against rocks and stones and trees that grow seed-bearing fruit, Grandparents scraped against the sides of cities, Sisters sputtering when lungs burn up with water.  Chaos everywhere. Pallid bodies floating over dark depths. Waves bigger than mountains, surging over clouds. Growing with the torrent. And worst by far, Wailing that is louder than the onslaught
of rain in sheets the size of seas.
When I go home I wince at blankets and baubles
Plastered with smiling elephants, giraffes and dolphins, blushing two-by-two.
That is just like my mother
to look at the tempest that killed everyone alive
and see the animals

The Lord is my shepherd; I shall not want.
Even when in a famished state I hunt,
In pastures green and lush with abundance,
He renews my spry and exuberance.

The Lord is my shepherd; I shall not want.
In gardens of drought He will fortune plant.
He leads to quiet pools of fresh water
from which I draw strength and endless laughter.

The Lord is my shepherd; I shall not want.
He does my requests for pleasant paths grant.
Even when to deepest darkness I stray,
He lovingly paves a most glorious way.

The Lord is my shepherd; I shall not want.
Even when my foes seek my life to hunt,
His rod and staff give me all the comfort
that allay my fears of every discomfort.

The Lord is my shepherd; I shall not want.
He does my sumptuous feasts and banquets flaunt
for my blood thirsty adversaries to see
from abased locations on bended knee.

The Lord is my shepherd; I shall not want.
Even when Satan tries my soul to haunt,
His goodness and mercy will follow me
until His heavenly abode I see.

it is one thing
to follow her into the dark

it is another thing
to borrow her fragmented words
and hold her in one hand
and a scale in another
and call it justice

but, by God
(whichever one you’d like to cite today
the kind one, the cruel one, and so on),

it is a whole different thing
to seize her by the neck
and rip the words from her throat
and twist them into cotton *****
and dip them into holy water
and force them back into her mouth
until she can no longer breathe
and no longer live and no longer exist
without drowning in a sense of helplessness
because we, the people, will always remember exactly how
you took your greed and shoved it into her mouth
and down her throat, until you stifled the cries of
‘my body, my choice’ with a book of myths and a man’s voice
weren’t you supposed to be our voice?
what was this all for? was the money so loud that
you could not hear the echoes of pro-choice?
our rage—will it be worth those thirty silver coins?

I.
In the beginning
God was,
And the blackbird
Was not.

II.
And Adam called it a blackbird;
And that was the name thereof.