the ghosts of death
walk among us….
with faces we can
almost remember, almost…
nowhere to hide!
cant wipe the taste
from our lips….
we look in the mirror
at swords drawn
and bitter eyes lost
in the blindness and the fury….
self destroys self…
tick tock… this aint Jesus calling!
Similar Posts
i have always believed…
that the mind should always be open,that questions validate the path.that ears are the greatest gift we have,and that the truth is worth the cost.that honest mistakes are the bricksthat build the house,and that forgiveness is the human condition.that life in itself is sacred.that death fulfills the life.that every word written or spoken,must remain true…
stripping layers of burnt skin
digging shallow ditches with tractors.smoke filled silent skies.the screams of the dyingswallowed up unheard…the gods turn their heads,and the trees that weptare now on fire….the stench of emptiness…glass broken on the sands.who sent the planes?who pulled the triggers?whose faces, whose souls?
capitalism and conquer,
feeding the hunger of take….one person over another,just and holy rewards…the losers per judgement,have no place in your kingdom….but the hallways of your hearts,ring empty and tainted….as the house that you builtfalls in on you!
tis breath, then…
that taking hands touches.that shaping lips kisses.that barks, howls, groans, and chirps…that is the lift beneath wings.that is both scent and journey.that is the language between us.defining one inside the other…tis breath, then….(that being fire, becomes fire.that being human, becomes human.that leaving body, becomes spirit.that being lonely, takes a body.that naming god, does not know.that…
i am the old farm house,
the mule and the plow,and momma’s family Bible.i am the single shot.22,squirrel dumplings,and strawberry pie.i am collard greens,pintos, and cornbread.i am the field plowed,wood cut and stacked.jars of green beansstacked on the shelf.i am the work hardened hand,and the gentle touch.i am the simple things,that cant be bought.i am generation after generation,footstep after footstep.the prayer…
are we then human?
we light our cigarettesoff the heads of starving children,drink wine made fromthe blood of dead soldiers.even our gods see through colored lenses!afraid of the truth,we chip away at the stone.turning off our lights to undress.perfumed by the scent of dead animals,shamed by the stink of human need!‘Jesus died for our sins…’we hold our sins closeas…