There will be people in your life who will make you believe
That your eyes are set on the same stars.

But the dreams that you dreamed together,
Are just dreams that you alone will fulfill.

You can talk about Jesus
And be instantly heard.
You can call him your Savior
And not mean a word.
You can shout your hosannas
To the people on your street
And few will suspect you
As having pure clay feet.

Holy, holy, Holey Moley,
Things have turned for the worse.
Hiding behind Jesus
Gives our land a ride in a hearse.

When you talk about Jesus
Please be true to the words.
Read what he has said
And not what you heard.
If you read the Holy Bible
And find reason to hate
You’ve been led astray
And it’s not too late.

Holy, holy, Holey Moley,
Things have turned for the worse.
Hiding behind Jesus
Gives our land a ride in a hearse.

So far we’ve noticed
The words that bigots use
Are not from Christians,
But are textual abuse
In that they are from before
Man learned to write
So why are bigots so sure
They got everything right?

Holy, holy, Holey Moley,
Things have turned for the worse.
Hiding behind Jesus
Gives our land a ride in a hearse.

I’m going to Republican heaven,
Going to meet Republican Jesus
After I pay off my school loans
Whenever my banker pleases
To let me out of the contract
With its usurious interest fees
And I am sure I will get there
When I am down on my knees.

I’ll have my Republican Bible
With its verses edited wisely
To exempt all the white folk
From behaving quite nicely
And making sure welfare
Is only for rich white neighbors
The rest are not allowed in
Our society except as laborers.

I am sure that Republican Jesus
Will welcome me quite warmly
For supporting the death toll
Of our Christian Soldier army.
He will be so delighted that
We vilified ungodly abortions
And how we treated those awful
Poor mothers and their orphans.

He will have to be delighted
That we held back the riches
We gained from our warfare
Ignoring our soldiers in ditches
Or maimed in those battles
We know you wanted us to wage
In the name of Republican Jesus
Out of our holy sense of rage.

Republican Jesus surely will
See how cleverly we diverted
The money to the richest people
Not the soldiers we deserted.
And, how only the people who
Did not need help financially
Got all the extra wealth we had
And we made sure of it annually.

I’m going to Republican heaven,
Going to meet Republican Jesus
And I’m sure greed and bigotry
Will just tickle him to pieces
Because it says in the Bible
The only people who will get in
Are the people that look like me
And vote for all the same men.

"i need you"
no, just your touch

"stay, don't go"
i need someone to hold me

"your arms feel like home"
no, they just help me forget

"I'll see you tomorrow"
or maybe just tomorrow night

"kiss me"
please do

"i really love you"
i really don't

"yours forever"
more like never

"you're more than just a lover"*
joke of the century

I am lonely in thoughts
And practice
Like sport without training
And I will die knowing less than I have learned
Transparent in form & nature
Giving birth to myself in ways my mother couldn't
On stumbling ground
With no grace to be lost or found
I tremble in my humble footsteps.

He thinks she's gorgeous,
She hates his guts;
Together, it's love,
or close to such.

She's by herself,
He's with her;
Together forever,
or at least they infer.

It's gotta be love!
It's written in stone!
Because otherwise...
Otherwise — it's too cold to be alone.

Darkness

That's all there is in this world

False teachers
False preachers
False call-themselves-believers

Have no idea how discouraged anyone else is

When they try to force them to confess and repent

As if oppression is how you give light to someone

In a world of only

Darkness

Felt the pretense behind closed eyes,
  composed vibrations of rhetoric              
   freelancing in executing ignis fatuus

drank the kool-aid of your own grandeur
   a punch drunk conviction's onus
   in false pretenses of a  mislead head trip

a study in contradiction's convulsions
    simmered of half past lucid judgement,
   junctures of reality submersed
      in cloudy formations
        impervious to reasoning*

...a saga written upon piqued skies of indifference