The sun sempiternal shepherds its flock life-longly. Repetition be its brother, night be its foe. As regurgitation fumes, funneling heinous broth of decay and hostility, the tedium drips ashore, clenching its claws, raising the congregation of lunatics hellwards and in a moment of inseparable divisionism, bursts out loud, hardening the ground with desecration. Outbegotten and throughbrought, the once ****** ******* feral sons to the demented deity all above and none below, in turning, swirling and the ever-prying agony, facilitate themselves a house atop a hill. After the cacophony concludes, The Fool finds himself standing, thrice woven, wolfmeadow thrown, fistlike tenacity hit, once beholden to each beast of coppered glow. Up he reaches, but finding nought and disillusioned with disinterest he breaks down in acid tears and horrid shrieks for mercy. The inward calibre reciprocates and bursts out a tubular noise of contradiction. In all still-standing, the Queen, she of the all-overseeing, turns to The Fool and parlours him a wisdom: "I am unto you as a universe is unto itself. I am within you as this earth is within me. I am you and you I shall stay. And when you at once turn dust-wards, I shall, bereft but forthlooking, beget you again." Aghast with sudden agonising fragility and from the cosmic incantation a ghost arisen, The Fool in all his momentarily found glory and happiness conjectures himself a vessel to venture upon. What he once missed he now resides in. He found it and now he rejoices. To Youth, at long once and at once forever.

Most believe
that not knowing
will drive you mad.
But really
learning the truth
can make you just as crazy.

It's a different kind of psychotic, yes.
But insane nonetheless.

There are secrets
secrets to this world
that a meager human mind
should not learn
should not have to hold.

Sometimes those fiendly deities slip up.
They leave a door open
a window cracked
and suddenly!
a human knows too much.

There are consequences, of course.
The natural order will always be restored,
in due time.
But alas, it is not the clumsy god who is punished,
no, if only it worked that way.
No, as it has been since humans
first walked,
the poor mortal man must be punished
for learning
listening when he ought not to.

And that's where the madness of knowing
comes in.
As punishment for the deities' wrongdoings.
The natural order is restored by erasing the man's
sanity.
And once it is gone,
it is impossible to retrieve.

So be careful, little mortal,
when you wish in the well for infinite knowledge,
you never know what mischievous god
may be listening.

I am not a human being,
I am the deity of profound perceptibility,
touch me with your terrestrial senses and die,
blessed or cursed for eternal life.



(My autobiographical book will be out soon.)

The Son of Man came to serve
to seek and to save the lost
to touch and to heal the hurt
regardless of the personal cost

The Son of Man came to embrace
the full breath of the human condition
He sat down in utter poverty
with those too used to exclusion

He walked in step with the weak
putting up with ignorant derision,
He shared His gentle wisdom
in the face of studied indifference

The Son of Man came willingly
to trek in worn, scuffed sandles
to suffer with blood blisters,
sprained ankles and tough calluses

The Son of Man suffered much
though He lived without any fault,
He was a man all too acquainted
with aches and tears and snot

He accepted all of their beatings,
the abuse, the cuts and the bruises
But at the last He was willing to gasp:
'Father, forgive my accusers.'