8.17.12 THE BIRDSONG’S LAMENT

The birdsong makes its way into my prayer, is my prayer, part of the fullness of Love. If this is not Heaven I’ll follow you off the cliff of illusion. Fall dark spirit, fall. Soar a loving belief that shakes the very exactness of Life and what good it is. Goodness, peace and love, without them upon us, we’ve little room to wiggle.

I often use the exclamation point to many of these prayers. One has the answer.

Look within them and you will see a pathway adorned with your name. Help me dear me to have always been immortal I seem to have lost my footing or I’m being led like a Billy goat up a steep trail lined in forgiveness and Love, for without one, there cannot be the other…

Because I’m NOT God, I find math impossible most of the time, that and I’m you and you and you and you and you and you and you and you and me and you and you and you and you and you and you and you.

I’m just me. This is our dance of which I’m just one part of, there is you and you and you and you and you and you and you and you and me and you and you and you and you and you and you and you and you and you and you and you and you and you and you and you and you and you and you…

I am a human being and I have the rights afforded to all human beings.

No one is God, at least not without the whole’s consent… I mean if we all have the power of Love within us to harness then we are all sovereign entities that were programmed to Love by the genetics of their grand union of Love and Fear. Fear as an instinct is good, fear of the unknown is a waste of air, of which we’ve much to answer.

Let that be a lesson to me. It is both you and I and you and you and you and you and you and you and you and you and you and you…

Your rituals will not bring forth your forgiveness. While we all stand around waiting for the grand finale, we miss too much of the truth within the story, Beginning, Middle and End…

I can’t let this go. She is tied within my belief, both she and my lovely angel Love are the Mother, they represent forgiveness and Love and Love and forgiveness. As for this forgetting routine you’ve honed, if it’s Heaven, how on eartH could you ever forget…?

I’m a good man, and that’s all I am.

(Echo…)

And within that there are many…

sdrawkcaB nruT (Turn Backwards)

I have been witness to the four pillars and see no reason to carry death there. Doesn’t the world know that life moves for more than just the sons of Abraham? O! I see the stunned throats floating by in the dusk to their stiff-limbed sleep as metal rains down over the Jordan’s western prophet, children dying there. I am here, waiting, breathing in the dusk under the shadow of the patriarch, asking, can we again build the shrine inside the soul and leave our flesh to time? © 2008 mrp/thepoetryman

read the poem

Waiting for It

Why do they stay there, between war and peace? Sky’s tapestry doles out guns, bombs and rocks while flesh and bone swim away from the ache yet live on as the food for the murder of peace. Why do we hide from the truth as if it were an ogre while death makes a home inside their living and war dispatches a raven to their door, smirking with the teeth of empire? Why do we wait, stooped for another wink? The sky’s drapery has tossed down ample clues, peace is breathing in harmony with war. (Road-maps are useless to blind leaders.) Why do they hold there, hunched in the gloom? Hatred’s bird cackling with bereavement needs end. Are we not rightly dishonored when we fill its trough with blood? © 2007 mrp/thepoetryman

read the poem

Laughter's Grip

They asked me to wait. To wait for God to come laughing, wait on His voice to destroy the golden temples of man, hold my tongue until His powerful breath was upon me, and from His loving casualties I’d at last know the Savior. They asked me to wait. To wait for God to come laughing, wait for His followers to die away their persuasive babble and the murder of Islam to breach the walls of the earth as the many damned souls drowned under holy laughter. “O! The Lord God is looming! On his way with God’s wrath! We are to take up swords and send evil howling back to die their well deserved and slow death! Their faces popped and spattered these words as they fell back, caught in His fiery presence, twisting their tongues into drivel and thrashing their minds in the glory of an Eden unlike any other. And then the snake planted his venom through the laughter of their gyrating madness. Tears emptied their pockets, spirits came crashing , and the anointed rapture of their making grew tire...

read the poem

CONFESSION ZERO

Search This Blog