an atheist told me:

the sound, and the fury.the small patches of fur,left in the ditch.the stained sheet,the crack in the window.i am the barking of dogs,the song of cicadas…i am the broken plow,the hammer laid aside.the bucket full of rainwater,the tree bent by the storm.i am the bodies of the innocents,the nightmares of the guilty…the stink of blooddried…

that we remember we’re brothers.it is this same blood,that we must drink and be set free.there is no victory nor salvationthat is personal…redemption comes only to all!

protecting the firefrom wind and rain,and anything that wouldextinguish!stumbling, bumbling,falling down, and gettingback up….often times our ownworst enemy….beliving we’re alonein the heat of the fray…the sound of footstepsbehind us, tiny footsteps….turning, we findsmall children, all differentages and colors;male and female….carrying small torcheswaiting to be lit….with the hope ofthe future!

another innocent goes down….the soldiers of petroleumbuy a whore, a dime, a quarter.dine on the flesh of children;pray to the neon god.waving the flags of mouthsthat only speak with teeth.nothing holy that cant be bought….step on bodies without faces,piss on the graves of babies….winner take all, all is nothing!and the wind of the beastknocks at…

is buddha.as is the cloud,covering the sun.the mountain is buddha,as is the pebble…and the river is buddha,with the illusion of flowing.you are buddha,your enemy is buddha.your lover is buddha,as is the crap you just took!do you see what you see?do you taste what you taste?do you smell what you smell?do you feel what you feel?or…

be it clever use of wordsand phrase… rhymes,cadence, hidden meanings….no, what makes it realis this: when you cantake the tears from ahungry child’s face…and write them with anaked hand… and givethem as a gift so intimateand near to the heart,that it causes someone elseto feel this hunger, andto want to do somethingabout it, to get…