to come to know another
(a breakaway discovered
among groups of birds)
to come to know me is
to deep dive to me
to not resent
the unanticipated
cavernous dark
sides or hues
what an awful
surprise that would
be if you had
that false image
before you love
an idea far-flung
gets into your
morality,
then let birds
fly away
forgetting everything
in their flight—
Scream, scream, screaming:
Help those drowning
all around
and they look to their coffers,
and the piles fill into the coffins--
The tide is coming in and the flood
is just getting worse:
there's a rage building in the dead,
and we'll speak for them.
Wretched bodies flung into a funeral pyre,
and the silence is deafening upon the pile,
and we see our love burned to ashes,
and we see their hands deep in pockets.
Cold hard cash for the winners and
death sentences for everyone else.
There's a cold rage building in the dead
and we'll speak for them.
The march of the dead is coming and
pitchforks are on our side this time.
Too big to fail too big to fall to big to take on
too big for their own good too big so
let's build ourselves and let them know
we're too big to ignore.
There's a cold rage building in the dead and
it just keeps growing and
we'll speak for them.
If we're face down, six feet under, it doesn't matter
if their cash piles grow and grow
in the face of God they pray, bow, and pretend
it's fine as long as they say sorry
and it won't be.
A cold rage is building in the dead,
am ember burning
threatening to blow it apart
and it just keeps growing
and
we'll speak for the dead.
the carpenter
cuts the wood
with a blade clean
sharp straight and
true muscles con-
tract with measured
constraint this will
be his life’s work
this labour of
l o v e every-
thing his hand touches be-comes a crucifix of sorts built with blood and sweat and
tears he loves to work and so he works with love he has a good eye for beauty they
say the elegant simple beauty of a carpenter who himself is weighed and measured
cut and sanded patiently fashioned the secrets of the trade not the son but the father
suspended on a
crucifix of our de-
sign he trades his
labour for a loaf of
bread how he misses
home still hammer
and nail and clamp
and glue the wine
of life his blood
that flows he is
building the king-
dom of heaven un-
awares hammer in
hand he is con-
structing a dream
yet all he knows is
that he is working
Subject No. 7
Still, there's time and room
for my religious studies—
Metaphysical
She was handing me
a flask filled w/ J.D.
as raindrops bounced off
my rain poncho
& ran down my face.
And she smiled
as I shivered at the burn.
I crack a few jokes
to hear her Southern laugh
as I feel the rain
as it patters off the ground
and it’s just 3:00am
and the band is still playing.
My feet are sinking
in the mud
and my knees
are turning to butter.
She wants to smoke a joint
and produces a joint.
She offers me psilocybin
should I be so inclined.
I suspect she wants
to get me wasted
to take advantage of me.
But in the spirit
of the moment
I had to take that chance.
There is something magical
and truly special
about being corrupted
by a Baptist minister’s daughter.
With night comes thoughts into my mind
Philosophically broad and deep
Why do I sit here counting fireflies
When I should be fast asleep?
What if Atlas shrugged
And Prometheus lied?
Enkidu lived
And Gilgamesh died?
Horus instead had been fried?
Anubis a coward who'd always hide?
What if we're all dead inside
And stay that way because of pride?
What is the difference between apples and oranges?
Why are patients so afraid of syringes?
Why must something go up, and then down
Why do the wealthy always seem to frown?
What I'm trying to say
I must protest
Whilst I stutter
And give it my best
That life is all-in-all a test
To live or die beyond our rest
Rest, rest, I wish I could
And if I could, I surely would
Some peace and quiet, I must confess
Would surely give this brain a rest
Pontif Pond scum
Perpetual Ponzi scheme
Posturing Position
Pose and Pilfer!
Pius Poindexter
Glimmering coin Polisher
Defector and Selector
Skeletor Sinew
Peal Off Removal
Usable for Perusal
As per Unusual
Skewed Renewal
Fat Dripping
Meat Eater
Pain
Maker
Self Server
Book Pusher
People
Taker
Destroying statues, burning books
By jfarrell
Sorry,
Statues, paintings, art
I feel ill equipped to comment on
My idea of art was 2000AD.
Burning books….
Books I love, books I know;
Some books scare me; yes ban it; burn it;
Some books shame me; yes, ban it, burn it.
But I saw pictures of Mosil, after ISIS;
Like Dresden, after England’s Royal Air Force;
Like Pompei, after the eruption;
Is ‘Holocaust of Art’, ‘Holocaust of History’ the right way?
I have never read, and never will, wotever Hitler’s book was;
But I instinctively want it burned;
Though no personal connection,
I can give you 6 million and more reasons why.
But, I don’t study hate, or politics/religion;
Maybe, if I were clever enough,
Reading this ‘material’ really would help
In resolving all the world’s hate, and achieving Utopia.
A great coldplay song….
“i’m gonna buy this place and burn it down”
There really are some places, some people,
I wanna burn.
But, if we burn our past,
Our history;
How can we learn from it?
And what might it teach us, if we didn’t burn it?
How to read The Bible
By JFarrell
It’s always struck me
No-one reads the Bible properly
Everyone reads
With preconceived ideas
Inspired by god, maybe
But written by men
For the benefit of men
For the control of men and women
And nowhere
Does it say what Jesus said
And nowhere
Does it say what Jesus did
It tells
What others say Jesus said and did
And in any court
That is called “here-say”
So, dear believer
Next time you read the Bible
Please try reading it with an open mind;
Maybe, god will speak back.