Trash the Earth Day (Poem)

It’s the day after Xmas Time to throw out your crap All your boxes and wrappings and dining room scraps Oh what a holiday X marks the spot with a question mark… You cut down that tree Dragged it in your house Odorned it with glee Watched it die on out Now it’s time to face facts Cuz it’s the end of days There is no better definition of idolatry Look it up It’s in the Books But you should know cuz you’re nothing but a gang of crooks You stole from God Now it’s time to pay Every imposter will get eXacted by The WAY

The things you never did… (Poem)

The alluring ones Life is but an impenetrable bubble that you dare never pop So aesthetically appealing to trauma ridden eyes Eyes that see the wiles of the ruse that never stops But your eyes see only you On the cover of magazines Bloody carpets In the spotlight On the signs of city streets Your bubble may never pop As you live your fullest life Flashy cars and gaudy mansions Front row seats at your own rite But after all you’ve done is done And you retire to your grave Your only true remembrance is the things you never did

What iSreAL? (Poem)

Gaze into the waters of the divine spirit Seek and you will find what iSreAL All that is forged is a mockery And all who mock are death in the wind What make one think they are worthy? Worth more than the life they take? When the life they take is what keeps them alive And the life they build is fake An illusion that won’t last forever Unless forever lasts til our downfall The collapse of ALL the Godless ways In the war against what iSreAL

PAIN (Poem)

Pain that is never felt Can never warn that something’s wrong Can never thwart you from the fire Can never push you to be strong Happiness is deceiving When it’s all you’ve ever known When the world that exists beyond your realm is just another debt to toll

That’s Capitalism (Poem)

How is it that ‘people’ achieve so much yet accomplish absolutely nothing? Life is but a dream and the dreamers are in a coma. Bed ridden on life support, disheveled to the bone. Haphazardly living on time that is borrowed from trustees who can end it all at any given moment. Reluctant to ‘come to’ in fear that reality will never be as fulfilling as the illusion that expends even the faintest tenor.

Rendezvous with Death (Poem)

Death is a slip that makes us weep Yet a third of our lives are passed in sleep And the rest is spent chasing those things that cause to stir and agitate Tunnel vision beading in The works of futile hands Marveling in the craftsmanship that plunders every land Death to all the works of God As long as we get our fill

The Eleventh Hour (Poem)

The eleventh hour
Spine tingling
Heart wrenching
Gut aching

Before the Heat (Poem)

Some people change when they see the light
Others when they feel the heat
Still others blinded by the dark
Can’t find what they can’t seek

Destitution (Poem)

Eyes on the prize
A raptor glides through the whispering breeze

Claws stretched out
Wings painting a picturesque moment in the clouds

Be Fruitful (Poem)

The Earth is not ours to destroy
We are but servants and we must employ
Our presence before God must not be in vain
For all that is fruitful will always remain