#amish
Heaven is an Eye fixed atop a triangle
embossed along panes of stained glass
in a burst of color and
embedded on a transom above
an arrangement of young Amish girls -
one of them flipping me the bird.
white bonnets shining inside the dark street
and red reflections of the night.
God is in a mirror
reflected across one thousand other mirrors
held by a single hand and adjusted thereby
so that the light would be refracted through
a bent corridor in time
bending and extending through
far away dimensions that
i don't even know about.
Beauty lies in the 6 skinny trees
i water on the fifth day
drinking coffee when i see
one thousand rose petals drying
like the shores of the salton sea
and the six trees like a
hexagram of six dragons
like Heaven over Heaven in the sky.
one time I saw this image in my mind
when i closed my eyes
a vision of fire shaped like a phoenix
burned across the red horizon of my mind.
beyond the black behind the lids of my eyes
there is a red horizon over inner city deserts,
bird beaks buried in the sand.
I must honor the body’s lived experience
yet not give it any credence over Spirit.
its like i was being taken over and consumed
by a Greater Being.
it pressed all my memories up against hard glass.
different angles through extra spectrums -
it was raining hard prisms
It was like laser beams everywhere.
like heaven over heaven in the sky.
I was ripping off layers like a nest
of ten rattlesnakes tangled up in braided rope.
now there are magnets that float around inside my head.
there are times i don’t know if I’m doing the thinking - or the listening -
or whose doing the talking but
there are magnets floating in my cerebral spinal fluid
and they are electric and they are on fire.
and if i only had binoculars then I could see the singularity,
the gift of eternal life at the eschaton.
Heaven is the wind that lifts me up by the insides.
i relax so deeply into the present sometimes
i forget to breathe -
were it not for the magnets inside my spine
pulling me toward the singularity and
the eschaton and the Bright Lights.
there are such amazing playlists on spotify
artists and genres i’ve never even heard of.
thank God someone figured out what
these emotions sound like.
benedictions in southern pennsylvania
on the JBL charge 4
and i think i’m starting to accept
that life in the earth plane is
a baptism by electric fire.
Glory be to God in the highest for
sending me His messenger
winging words made of silver helix
strands of vibrating concept complexes
so the mercury can bring the sulfur to the salt.
I throw my head back and laugh like a junkyard dog.
i’ve been searching for the philosopher’s stone for years!
i just called the chase by other names
and searched for it where i thought it was to be found,
where they told me it would be:
court street and MLK blvd, Newark, NJ,
trap house, Grant St, Hazelton, PA,
the American Club, red light district, Agana, Guam.
somewhere in the Pacific or a fist full of wax bags
from my partner **** down pembroke outside bethlehem, PA
and a ten pack of clean B and Ds, small gauge,
waiting for me on his kitchen table.
Heaven over Heaven in the sky.
I checked my phone over three hundred times today.
mostly this is a wretched habit of unconscious hand but
quite often the Everywhere Spirit gives me personalized
messages of rapid ascension via all the “woke” social media handles.
there is a fire inside my heart and it burns me from the inside.
sometimes it opens so wide you can fit the whole world in there
and not lose any elbow room.
and the magnets carry me to the tallest pedestal in the
sky where everyone can hear and
i tell them everything is going to be ok.
i’ve seen the bad path and i’ve walked it
and God placed magnets in my blood and
i made it back alive and all the church bells are ringing.
the Holy Ghosts of our ancestors rejoice for the
cutting of the silver chords so they can
all fly away home to heaven.
and through the grave yards that lost their church bells with the churches
i walk with bells in my hands and i ring them so
that all the ghosts can go home.
we had a heart opener one night.
we all sat around the floor and opened our hearts for each other.
they opened so wide that it rained electric fire to
where everyone could see it and that makes
for a good memory.
but nothing is as it seems,
nor is it otherwise
and my heart can suddenly slam closed like
the cellar door of leatherface’s texas prairie
subterranean basement lair.
and i’ve been there before
but the fire in my heart shines upon the faces
of the all devil’s dark armada
and they don’t scare me anymore,
such is the brilliance of the flame,
and such is the pull of the magnets god placed inside my blood.
its been more than ten winters since court street, newark.
but to this day i think sometimes about
that frozen cat lying by the curb.
stiff from all the jersey winter night prowlin
freezing up it’s blood.
my heart was closed that day,
hiding all my fire.
but if I saw that cat today, why…
i would open my heart so wide that
winter would be no more and
all the frozen hearts of our fathers and our mothers
would burst wide with such love that
the Earth would tremble and all the
neutron stars would shoot across the
red horizons of our mind
and the light of heaven would be
reflected in the mirrors of our eyes.
and this light would be so bright that
all the archangels and the devas would
be out of a job.
God is in the pinprick of light
fastened to the back of the
long tunnels of my eyes.
God is in the space after the release
of my preoccupation with the opinions others hold of me
God is in the street light shining on an
amish girl flipping me the bird.
By Jordan Gee
Nov 20, 2021
Nov 20, 2021 at 8:25 PM UTC
Becky knew Eli ha taken another wife
leaving her alone on the sprawling
farm, Eli Jr. doing most of the chores,
selling **** at the crossroads &
trying to **** his sister, Becky Junior,
who was too young & clueless for him
to get very far & she loathed the aroma
of **** Eli's youngest Joshua already
evincing signs of effeminacy, Becky
attributing it to Eli's long absences; she'd
conjured in her head her wayward spouse
drinking & reveling with naked women,
rock star groupies and movie strumpets;
having flown over to see for herself, she
knew she was right. Hearing Eli had
married again brought an inexplicable
sense of relief, & taking up her needle
work, Becky sat in the porch rocker
waiting for her two oldest to show up
for supper. Becky Junior stuck doing
Eli's chores while he ***** little Emma
from the next farm over; I'll not be
gettin' ina heaven, Eli Simple! the girl
scolded. Eli Jr, grinned, 'English Heaven,'
he said, 'That's where my father is.'
the girl's face paled & her pink mouth
swung open, "That rightly be hell!
I seen the little lit-up boxes they all
be talking to now. Some's got wires
comin' right out they head, like men
from Mars..." Emma was talking while
Junior rolled a blunt with a corn husk.
Men from Mars & little boxes - u've
got some imagination, missy, he said,
blowing the smoke at her; coming
beside him, they lit up the barn with
the pungent odor of Jr.'s Homegrown.
It's them English, She railed, Turnin'
theyselves into robots! Shut up, he said
at last, My dad throws paint on canvas
& he's good at it too, so I don't need...
feeling the vibration in his pocket, he
knew he to take the call. Here, smoke.
I've gotta go take a *** He went out &
Emma lay back smoking contentedly,
giving herself the chills with thoughts
of evil English robots all connected by
wires. Figuring she'd keep, Junior went
down to the crossroad & didn't get back
until after sundown. Emma was gone,
but left a note scrawled on notebook
paper: 'I went home to supper emma'.
Feeling peckish himself, he picked up
the fat roach she'd left & lit it with a
kitchen match, smoking as he walked.
Nov 30, 2018
Nov 30, 2018 at 2:16 AM UTC
Deep in the woods where the wild things roam
Back in the dark there are things
That happen at night when you'r all safe at home
When young men compete to be kings.
It happens each year when the falls fairs are on
These gatherings out in the dark
Thanksgiving arrives and the boys all move on
From these things that they do for a lark
The gauntlet's thrown down by the challenging swarm
To the winner of last years crusade
His blood doesn't boil, but it sure does get warm
Now that this years challenge is made
It normally starts at the Aylmer Fall Fair
"Josiah, you're not is our class!"
He doesn't fight back he just breathes deep and stares
For to him, it's a sin for to sass
They show up at night, all dressed up in black
No surprise if you knew how they live
But tonight is the time, for them all to step up
For a Lesson's about to be give
The street was all dark, save a lantern or two
as the riders came out from the trees
These were not the old wagons you saw in the dark
These were ones that would make your heart freeze
Josiah stepped forth from the bustling crowd
Mr. Martin he said...I am here
Now is the time to show just how proud
of the horses you have over there.
I've heard of this race in the darkest of nights
Where the young men come out and are facing
Their fears and their hopes with only two lights
It's the start of Amish Drag Racing
It was something to see these men dressed all the same
Two big clydesdales each made up their team
But to both of these men, this was not just a game
This was the way that they all burned off steam
They didn't dare fight for that was a sin
And team sports didn't get the job done
None of them drank so there was no need for gin
And a barnraising just wasn't fun
Mr. Martin climbed up and he steadied his ride
Young Josiah just stood there and stared
Mr. Martin looked out, he was beaming with pride
Poor Josiah just stood looking scared
The starter came forth and he said to the men
With this hanky I will start the race
I will let it fly loose once I count to ten
And I let it fly free into space.
He counted it down and let go of the rag
And nobody moved from the post
Mr. Martins horse stood as did Josiahs old nag
And they both looked like they'd just seen a ghost
The hanky was black just like ones they all had
And nobody saw him let go
The race buildup was great but the start was quite bad
In fact some men started to go
So, they tried it again with a different technique
Cause they found nothing there that was white
You can say it was strange but I say unique
To watch Amish men race in the night.
The horses lurched forth like two huge tyco trains
Sweat was poring from off of their backs
You could see from their eys it was really a strain
As their drivers took up the reigns slack
Equally paired, with two horsepower each
They tore up the road like a shot
But a really fast speed they both never would reach
Cause two clydesdales just don't run so hot.
Amish drag racing is really a night
To see if the other would show
For it's really no way to prove who is right
And the attendance is really quite low
So if you get invited and your hear of a race
That takes place where wild things roam
Say you'd love to attend but you think to save face
You'd prefer not and would rather stay home.
..
May 3, 2012
May 3, 2012 at 7:29 PM UTC
There's a stranger at the door
Eyes are blurry and sunk to the floor
its the middle of the night and the noise causes fright
you open the door and fear what’s more
grabbed by the beard
assailed in the night
tribal lines feared
by the victims of tonight
They cut off my manhood
they cut off my might
Fanatic terrorism
Is the cult I must fight
But I would have rather died
sleep through the perils I’ve eyed
than to have this beard of mine cut
my manhood, my pride
This ego has fallen
by the hand of slandered, misguided pride
-Sam mullet must be tried
-sa fool that must be tried
When they stole my hair they stole my story
This beard was much more than identity allegory
They didn't steal it all though....
I escaped
To tell a story of fear in a horse and buggy ride
To alert the media and to simply confide
We never locked our doors before
you wondered “what violence” you s3nseless *****
Schism between the mainstream and Mullet
and the scissors cut/divide communities apart
like a cook does a cutlet
Never forget the scissors that took my bucket-list ,
TerrorEYEz; learned helplessness, cult leader...fuck-it-quick.
.fuck.youSamMullet.
Feb 22, 2016
Feb 22, 2016 at 1:30 PM UTC