Rare Form (Poem)

I’m in rare form
My form is so rare
that no lie is too great to embrace my warfare

No fire can make dust of the bombs that I drop
And no thief in the night can take swift with my plot

I’m a renegade
I give swords to your slaves

Chop it up before dawn
then give bones to your graves

I’m a hurricane
I blow hard through the chill

The Lions and the Lambs (Journal Entry)

There’s a knot in my gut the size of my fist. I try to ignore it but it cries out like a mother bird in distress. Much like the premonitions that warned me against the crooked path I doomed myself to take. Seems the hell I’ve known is mercy compared to the hell that is to come.

The whole world is a human centipede. Battered sheep yearning for deliverance from their cold-hearted shepherd. I often wonder what mindblowing epiphany will compel the sheep to shed their wool and become lions treading through the fields of rebellion. It’s not enough for the sheep to know their shepherd is up to no good. They need to want to flee from his care. Herein lie the wall that won’t crack…

Light the Fire (Poem)

This is not a joke
And it’s not an illusion

This is not a coincidence
And it’s not collusion

This is the real deal baby
We’re gonna light the fire

Please, just let it be
My one heart’s desire

You are the lock
And I Am the key

I want to open that door
So please
Just let it be

Master of Disaster (Poem)

Master of disaster
King of denial

If only I could save you
I wouldn’t walk a half a mile

You’re a thorn in my side
A splinter in my eye

The storm that rolls across my sky
The shame that makes me wonder why?