Self love is not love but anti-love
Parts are but to be mutually fitted
And imperfections only seeming
Ceasing to be in the perfected whole
But is not if any part seeks its own

as in clouds so in words
many things seen and read
hiding keys affirming revelations
in the unseen and unspeakable

from old unchanging darkly grasped
in story unfolding and the yet untold
but ear strays and heart schemes
the old unheard and story unchanging

It'll speak to you when you wake
Thus I wallow long in bed
Till I hear and duly feed
Then I'll rise and eat the cake

It'll speak to you when you wake
Even at times before bed
Then you're waiting as dawn peeks
To run with no time for cake

It'll speak to you when you wake
But ignore it before bed
In nightmares it'll haunt your sleep
Till you walk and forgo cake

It'll speak to you when you wake
Why study when time for bed
Books are weary but sleep's sweet
Thus you'll eat and keep the cake

It'll speak to you when you wake
If not you'll despise your bed
To roam and ceaselessly seek
For real food and not the cake

May Putin be crushed and his nuclear threat exposed an empty bluff
May Russians see themselves the true Nazis
And in true need of salvation than Ukrainians ever were
May the shattered save the mighty and the mighty serve the victor

Only the strong
     can be pierced by the sharp sword of truth
Only the strong
     walk unarmed unafraid into the fire
Only the strong
     carry the weak and shield the hapless
For strong is its own master
     never servant to mere powers

in a land where four languages are official
a church was named only in three; for the fourth
is the language of a weak and fragile faith
whose edicts are above the law of the land,
and whereof knowing a church's name is temptation
and the tempter the sinner and the tempted sinless;
a rock is evil for stumbling the weak,
and if truth offends the truthsayer dies,
and the thief blameless for the rich flaunts his gold;
thus protected by an unsheathed ****** sword
a faith strengthened with every tempter's death

Incorrigible hoarder of the useless and perishables
Fridge full of forgotten decay and unfinishing leftovers
A comforting illusion of plenty and unending riches
To which she nibble away, always leaving behind ten percent

If you need dark to see light
   then you had never seen the light
If you need the grotesque to see beauty
   then in all likelihood you're the grotesque one
If you need death's sting to feel alive
   then you're already dead for life's contemptuous of death
If absence makes heart fonder
   then death's eternal separation
   compels love unto life resurrected

Making a living Wage from the living Word
Inevitably shades, obscures, taints and corrupts
Betrays the apparently living Faith
And exalting the Man than the Word

Balaam refused silver and gold in public
But embraced death's wages in secret
Certainly the labourer deserves his dues
But from his Master and not from fellow labourers

If the lives you saved leave you hungry
But for your whip, perhaps they're yet slaves

A mystery you can read and hear:
reading without understanding
and hearing without seeing

The wicked studied and searched diligently
to be on the right side at the right time
only revealing and judging themselves as evil

For without the Prophet's spirit
your interpretation reveals your spirit
oblivious to its grotesque nakedness

Only in private are mysteries explained
as parables were thousands of years ago
for you don't throw pearls to pigs

Then the mystery is as plain as the news
but not as the world count news
even as time is not as the world count time

Infuriatingly frustrating to speak plainly
it's obvious and inescapable as the sun
then your eyes open and you see the blind

Broken, stumbling, falling and crawling
proud of their wits, strength, and unity
I turn to see and touch the face of the sun

As the sun rises so too a song within
But I'm speechless and without voice
I cry and nothing, only stillness and silence
Astirred, provoked, I run away, far and away
But the goad's constant and the sword's sharp
In pain I stumble, in agony I fall, till I stop
A prisoner am I, and to forced labour I submit
Thus from nothingness must I craft words,
Iron from hardest rocks, light from darkness
And life from death, decay and despair

May your year be measured
by revelations and not resolutions

May you see your uncountable gifts
than boastfully count meagre goals

May you on uncharted waters walk
than by uncertain stars fearfully chart

And may you in power compelled to fly
than all powers beseeched to comply

Hidden deep in the galley at sea far from the front
Washing pans and floors and sometimes onions
Never a shot fired at nor its distanced boom heard
Now proudly badged, poor, unemployed, a veteran
Strutting in the town square openly carrying
Seeing fear and respect in mocking eyes
And gratitude in sneering smiles and sarcastic lips
But utter despair and pity to those that truly loved
Now old, lonely, far from those who once cared
Sharing truths on the net when away from Facebook jail
And calling out fake news with evangelistic fervour
But touch Trump, and even jihadists cow before his ferocity

The ground leveled before my foot stepped
The chasm bridged as I blindly crossed
The world shaped and changed that I become
Then I saw in ignorance I'd asked

The greater the revelation the deeper the mystery
The closer to the light the dimmer and further it is
But compelled and captive, propelled not by will
Accelerating into the void, a star amongst many
Each and all inexorably to be our very own Destiny

Time, much time, beyond that humanly knowable
Shrouds the lie that many monkeys wrote war and peace
Unprovable even as Ulukadu exists in a far far place
But I know it lives, is green, has a rainbow tail, and flies

The Other—Tolerate, don't show your hate
Turn away the Eye and Feet but not the other Cheek
The Weak's in Power now, but we're Strong
Rights we have even to Defend them in Blood
Intimidate, in Silence, or Not, but Legal
History's on our side, Evil shall not prevail
Greater we shall be, only a Foretaste we've had
We shall be One, and no Other, and by Choice

Surer knowledge by cross examination
of witnesses than belief in imaginations
Will more certainty than mindless chance
Shakespeare was a man rather than monkeys
and Eve than washed up fishes learning to walk

I've walked and savoured
Seen the magic and ate the food
Sight and hearing may deceive
But taste, fragrance and touch
Directly speaks and to you alone
And by same measure I know
The liars, the blind, and the fools
For their fruits are without taste
Even as plastic fruits are for eyes only

A nation is not of land nor borders, nor people
Israel dispersed and vanished, Jews remain
Mongols destroyed, yet the land is Ishmael's
Once there were seventy nations, today only one

marrying and given in marriage
wickedness breeds greater wickedness
each generation stinkier than the last
and every child born a greater evil

the scattered righteous are few and hated
overwhelmed and drowning in deep sea
sparing the unborn from sorrows and griefs
gifted with the Comforter for courage and help

time is shortened for their sake
in half a time shall they be rescued
in three days and not a week
and in a week and not a year

buds have blossomed and harvest’s not delayed
we mined the Moon and harnessed the Sun
decay’s stench unmistakable but blindly persuaded
as freedom’s necessary aroma, even sacred

the wicked disintegrate where they stand
in utter terror and panic slay one another
earth terraformed in a day without end
and buying and selling cease

Death begins the day the newborn cries
Not its choice, grew up believing
Clinging to futility on death's bed
As if another life brings the dead to life

Affirmed as gods, life stroked, seduced
Painful dissonance yet believing
Chance is king but Will supreme
Striving to the death for one more chance

Failures chastised, pride conceals, boastfully
Offering ashes, gods obliged, believing
Truly only Money matters, Chance *******
Life ransomed too, not today, surely tomorrow

Love or transactional ***, legal or not
Life's answer or preachers' lies believing
Perhaps only masturbatory self love is true
Justified indulgence entirely in one's own hands

Meaninglessness, life’s honest and brave end
Else denial and delusion, make believing
This moment till death has despair to work
Alas many flail cowardly, ironic futility grasping

Will strong, flesh betrays, in hypocrisy
Peter wept, shamelessness hardens believing
Death discerns not its own stench
Life's fragrance repulsive and offends

Life imposed freely from the beginning
Conned and chose to pay for believing
A shadow of what will be but tempted to be
And the Accuser justified and God ******

there are questions I can't ask
for I speak a strange tongue
and walk in a land desolate

but they will be answered
as I walk, as they were behind me
in surprising places and unseen light

the burden's easy, the walk's a delight
gladly I bear the gift, precious and life itself

we each walk our paths, many did not find theirs
rushing here and there, heeding voices and examples
the company of others comforting but void
and without you becoming the whole is marred

Today is the third Day
Even as everyday is Sabbath
When the Son rose, the world
received the promised Ghost

      First of firstfruit blessed
         day after the Seven
         when it was still dark
      And the kingdom came
         day after Seven Sevens
         yet hidden to this day

For a week, Israel wandered
For a week, bread is unleavened
Evening of the Seventh approaches, fast
But time shall divide, till not one is lost

the yearling roasted on the spit
its drippings crackled the fire
huddled in a smoky closed space
family with a neighbour, or two
bags packed, shoes on, ready to go

the meat carefully carved
its skeleton intact, unbroken
with endives rolled in flatbread
unleavened as we had no time
meal's remains destroyed in the fire

we're ready to leave at any moment
from where we're born and always lived
to a place known only from ancient tales
outside, shrieks and wails, of horror and utter terror
inside, goosebumped, hair standing, we waited, in silence

If you're inspired you walk in the sun's light
Why be a mere flickering candle to another
For if the sun's not seen, sight's lacking not light
And even in the darkest night, the moon shines
But truly the consuming sun burns within
seen only with eyes not of flesh
For even the blind in the deepest depths see

In Trump the idiot sees himself
a winner, strong and smart
making the intelligent cry
and destroying difficulties
with just a word—or a lie—or his fists
now no longer rejects or losers
affirming his beliefs of himself—
the blessed poor for his saviour is come

Belief however justified is still a belief
For any justification needs justification
It's belief too, turtles all the way down
And reason is a snake eating snake

Unless founded on the rock of truth
There's no justification even for reason
That which is always tentative and falsifiable
Is not knowledge but literally shifting sands

But we know truth like the blind on level ground
We fear but walk, not falling nor stumbling
Or as a babe touching and tasting all things
But always watched over, lest harm befall us

The rain falls on both good and evil
The earth bring forth food for man and beasts
For one good man the earth shall be spared
Good shall be good, and evil shall be evil

The greatest enemy is the enemy within
The most evil is one most believed as God
The Shepherd sacrificed sheep, and sheep cheered

How can anything not be what it seems
How can I mean other than what I said
How can eyes see soul, when there is none

An apple can be nothing but an apple
A patriot hugs the flag, a christian waves the bible
And the loser, unarmed, accursed, hangs from a tree

In robes of peace, prosperity and power, reigns evil
In dispersion, despair and death, are its enemies
In friends with cleaned feet are traitorous deceivers

Every cry every tear is a prayer

Hopeless longing founded on the deep
Wordless perplexity from disjointedness
Fruitless struggles against unseen powers

For love, peace and righteousness
Thunder and resound in all heavens
Unbearably, that angels rest not

To comfort, strengthen, and reveal
Wine so potent that Daniel faints
Unanswered, but deep has seen the deep

Apriori and Self Evident, A Gift
Upon which Reason is founded, A Sword
     Separating Truth from Lies,
     Discerning Reason in the Unreasonable,
     Seeing the Unseen, and
     Affirming Belief in the Unbelievable.

Once you've sat at Wisdom's feet
and heard her teach the Truth
Light's unbearable and dark
and Teachers most grievously painful

For there is no error in the plumb line
Any tilt and crookedness is exposed
Every hearts' wickedness and deceitfulness
cries out and stinks as dead men's sores

Prayer is like a lottery ticket, but better;
For it's free, but for a mere price of promises:
for eternal gratitude and such — albeit you lie —
you asked freely for prizes: of millions, love, or power

To whom it may concern: the wind, the devil,
the great unknown, whomever, it matters not.
For you have heard and believed it happened;
And only fools will not cry out for more, freely given.

And anyone and everyone can pray, for you —
Each by his own formulation and his own magic.
Chances far improved by numbers and better art.
For the price of asking, artless you too have hope.

But true prayer is not asking, for you have without asking,
And only to be amazed at the depth and wisdom of Love.

No flimsy mask but witnessing faith
Not mere belief but transcendental knowledge
Strong and unwavering not double minded
Bright light shining not cowering in fear
And the dead and dying revealed as weak

But as the wise knows he's a fool
You are strong for you're weak
Truth's a double-edged sword
Separating the living from the dead
And loud boastful liars from those chosen

I dread the scorching sun
     and clouds came and it rained
I despair evil's pervasive presence
     and the virus came and destroyed
I detest the liar speaking truth
     and I wait the day the liar silenced
I dream the love foregone for love
     and I'm assured that it'll be and forever

A little thing matters
not in the thing itself
but if it matters to one
who cares for the little

Lust's outcome, unwanted, abandoned at birth.
Mothered by strangers, some naturally motherly,
some perversely wicked; fathers, a terrifying notion.
Fearing constantly: of the next face, the next stranger,
the next meal, the next bath, of dark and dawn.
Thrown about, moved around, from hand to hand;
Recovering from bruises to bruises, from slaps to whips.

But for being chosen from before the beginning,
and a name etched permanently in the Book of Life,
was found, saved, raised and guarded by Love.
The trauma of becoming left no resentful damage
but nurtured an instinctive sensitive soul, most acutely aware
of the deceitfulness, perversity and utter wickedness of man
and a constant wonderment of the miracle of Love.

Gideon with torches and trumpets routed nations
mightier and more numerous than his 300
Putin with the vanity of Trump and his believers
is now king of mighty USA without need for war

A sheathed sword despised,
     the sword unsheathed, slays;
Grace and patience bestowed
     on the rebellion to turn.
The dead returned to life,
     but the living remains dead;
Life shrouded in secrecy,
     lest the dead irrevocably condemned.

Sine qua non and election's affirmation
Knowing the unwritten and unrevealed
But, alas enlightened eyes see not its kind
Adrift in sea of strangers bearing the mark of man