i’d made of myself!
threw away all my pretensions,
and gave away my few belongings.
learned to speak without moving my lips,
laid aside the well conceived lies.
laughed in the face of my fears,
walked to my enemy with an open hand….
only to find my enemy
was just another version of me….
and what i’d been afraid of
was the very truth that set me free!
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faded sign falling down
mailboxes full ofunopened billshouses with no curtainsold cars up on blocksall the stores are emptyall the doors are lockeddark southern skiesno one’s home anymoreno one hears the cryno one sweeps the floorman without workhis woman turns awaydark southern skiesand there’s no one left to pray…empty crib gathers dusta Bible by the bedworkboots in the cornerwith…
the question we have to ask ourselves
Christian church?would He choose to be American?or would He walk the starving roads of Africa?would He flee with the women and childrenin the countries bombed?would He be a political force,or a political dissident?would He be a capitalist, a socialist, or an anarchist?would He self immoliate with the Tibetan monksin the name of freedom?would He carry…
Jesus was not a capitalist,
democracy has nothing to do with invasion.freedom cant be bought and sold!the earth is not ‘property’…salvation doesnt imply donation.equality doesnt have limitations,respect is a two way street!much judgement, few qualified judges!forgiveness has to be given to receive.wisdom not bound by degrees…no tomorrow unless we validate today!love doesnt imply ownership.and death is not the end!what we…
kick down the doors!stack all the old furniture…and set fire to it!the windows….…through which we stared at life……safe from its touch!the doors….….we closed in our fear……of who we are…….and what we see………..in each other.the furniture….….we sat on and laid on…….while the cries of the struggling………and the hands of the hungry………….reached out…the fire….…that burns apathy with…
the priests of rhetoricmasturbate in hidden rooms,by the bodies of young boys,the price paid without doubt.the neon screen blares,cancer has a new name…dressed in pride and patriotism.street vendors passing laws,feed the monkies!the truth isit’s all a lie!they drink martinis behind smoked glass,sell the souls of the poorto pay the rent!leaving black scars on the facesof…
If then love,
Let me but sleep,Beneath thy breast.Let me but hope,To be remembered…In the softness ofYour soul!