Beyond the lost days of manna,
all nutrition I'll ever need
was given to me at birth
with the implantation of spiritual seed.
An enabling inner spark,
combined with soul's hungering emptiness,
allowed me to find divine connection
and a path towards Your Holiness.
Thank You Lord for Your Daily Bread
that feeds my spirit and sustains my soul;
for feasting on Your Word everyday
is the best way to be kept whole.
Learn more about me and my poetry at:
Sinking like a carelessly cosmic condom on the 4th of J-U-L-Y, while a distressed young mountain lion lies on your feet.
Watch out for the cautious rubber shark inside the lines. It'd be something like Frank Zappa stuck on a deserted island with a dealer of his liking or disdain.
I believe in outlandish crazy industrialists in the distance between here and nowhere.
Lucifer has been infused with witchcraft and crack cocaine. Mindless pussies. Thank your God.
Excellent nutrition is being presented as gluttony. Which in turn has caused your little sister to make daily offerings to a porcelain god.
Pleasure didn't invent rebellion but rebellion did however invent pleasure. Don't confuse the two.
A believer is magnetically drawn to immorality, much like man is to faith.
Inspiration simply radiates free energy and a smile should never be compared to a frown.
Dreaming can be mistaken for productivity. Dream big people, dream big.
I have nutrition in one hand and thoughts in the other
but both hands might as well be empty
they're too small to hold neither mind nor health
they're too small to hold onto anything at all
So I let them fall to my sides and I stand and wait
for someone with gargantuan hands
to hold them but I realize now
my hands are too small for yours anyhow.
believe in a world free of money
then we can envision ourselves with freedom
we've given up the gold and silver standard
allowing the bankers to make wealth from thin air
so the mind controlled drones work without a care
continuing to build a society's infrastructure cracking,
and breaking under a weak foundation
they dehumanize through disassociation
and patch it up with television and food free of nutrition
so can we imagine like John Lennon?
wake up and question this money and it's evil that's spread into the world
wake up and start taking action
because our world is young and dying
we are young and dying
still enslaved to the paper money
still controlled by stupid government policies
still imagining and still dreaming
still afraid and still confusing
won't we ever open up our eyes?
to die happily old and asking not for youth
but for the next lives to start
and leave behind a loving world for the future hearts
finding this morning
awareness of loss
the obituary entry
this physical sense..
those lesser deaths
portrayed as loss
fill electronic news..
or loss Approaching..?
loss seems woven
into our fabric..
our morning Nutrition:
approaching is longing
to locate disclosures
of buried light
under the garments
Overhearing the torrents of spring
All she said she needed was a ring
Pouring out over the dam walls
All night she said we would learn to fall
But instead of the rose petals lit aflame
We came to our senses all the same
Where the train smoke pours from its engines
Passengers sip on their coffee and eat their crackers
Yesterday there was nothing that was repeated
But today feels much like the one yesterday
Each note of the violin passes into the wind
And the molasses slow in sin away from kin
Expecting that the money would come in
And we would be happy but well
That means that what we need is not what we want
And these definitions of nutrition make my mind go lame
Telling me that your straightness
Was just a game and that you could always go on your way
And since I know you and you think you know me
And you believe you can go on living
As if what you have you can just go off and give for free
But the streets aren't that forgiving
And the hobos near you sure aren't thinking of reading
Recollection was never your strongest suit
And the demons and angels and elf boots
You left them by my door
They weren't made for me
For I was made for something more
I must have written down the wrong note
Or you have walked through the one story book
Because what you are giving me isn't right
Something I never wanted to live in
Like a man taken in chess now without a rook
The bubbling has turned blood red
And what was never said
Churns underneath us now
Like high Vesuvias rocky ashen and grey
Beyond the reach of castle wall
Shadows, calloused hands shield tired
Eyes from the unrelenting sunlight
Burning red shoulders and humble
Plow for sword, horse for labour,
Opposite of knight and royalty.
Hands that only take life for nutrition
Wave back at the queen standing
In the cottage doorway, smiling.
Apron cape, head proud beneath the
Invisible crown of motherhood.
Needs no throne, a woman so strong
She never sits.
Life is perfect in the eyes and hearts
Of those content with little.
May lightning split the skies and water
Pour upon these fields.
Our gold is oat, we need no moat to
Protect the walls of our home.
No foe invades for so little.
Ashes of dead distant stars; this soil.
Watered with the sweat of generations.
I would fight for this land.
I do so every day.
I wish I could give you
more reasons to love me
but I am sorely lacking
in that department
I wish you could see me
the way I see the flowers
but I am sadly hidden
I wish I could tell you
how my love for you grows
but I am fully consumed
with fear of rejection
I wish you could consume me
like the waves eat the shoreline
but I am surely no source
of any nutrition for your soul