If the earth had a temple
Surely it would be the ocean
With its stained-glass fish
And its stately silver sands
Its keening choir of whales
And rocking sermon of waves

The world above is not
A foreign paradise
With its broken-glass windows
And its dingy gas-stained streets
Its keening choir of mothers
And angry sermons of men

If the earth had a temple
Our world would be its end.

It's an original sin, incandescent,
an absolutist's balloon monsoon,
but Eden's air comes in whipped cream cans;
the serpent had no need for names.
Blood hits the ice,
and the dextromethorphan hits too,
and yesterday, tomorrow, a crystal glows
briefly, never to be seen again.
The concrete tunnel is filled with spiders,
chewing at my brain as they suffocate,
beneath the weight of expectation.
And now, beneath this jellied tree,
I see the God I've ignored all these years,
and I bask in the artificial glow of LSD
before I realize my mistake.
Because when homeless men that went to Harvard,
smoke **** with you, hungover,
out of an Apple,
why change a thing?

i try to bring myself peace
in the tall grass rippling like waves
a sea of greens, purples, and yellows
i dream that i am floating
running my hand along the bottom of the flat clouds
holding a ray of sunshine
like a warrior, conquering all the lands
until i've created a home among the wildflowers
somewhere for you and me to finally be
a slice of paradise in a very large world
where everything makes sense
and i don't feel quite so alone

September will be waist-deep in restoration.
The rain today was evidence of that.
Thunder for the deaf ears.
Lightening to whip the rigid spines.
Eventually it will break the water's surface.
It will separate souls from the atoms it inhabits.
Pick up the rock, watch the ants scatter
The other half of the bible has been found.
I've seen it, there are no questions left.
Love is coming.
To the influence, I give permission.
Though this heart is nothing more than a fist of lifeless gray matter,
a rhythm of agony continues to barrel through the pathways in my body.
Atoms and assumptions packed into a sack of brown fabric,
I lie awake into the late hours, hoping that we've been praying for the same paradise.

chasing bliss
is like chasing tides
one moment at reach
but never collides

my bones are broken
from the life i suffered
now, i cant stand still
so i let my body sink
beneath the gritty silk

i'm half submerged
from the neck down
i relish the ocean breeze
and marvel at the spectacle above
of purples, pinks, and blues

i stare into the horizon
as i await the currents
and when the sounds end
i close my eyes and whisper gently
take me to zion