my faith - in a not so nutshell
tried, used to beat myself up dealing with faith issues
then i stopped making it an issue
there's trillions of faiths
mine is simple and ancient and real
and i'm so enthralled with its meaning,
substance to my being
value, nurture, truth, virtue
take a bullet for it
sit in an arena for the entertainment of the masses
if it came to be
mangled, ripped and eaten by lions
or crucified by human gladiators
or humiliated, thumbs down
by so called caesars
for this faith
so that others might believe
and eternally live
now, in the past or later
human life span is utterly short
(ours is a young sun but millions of years old)
sacrifice my being
for my faith, i'd
take a bullet for,
no death wish,
just love life
no compromise premised on love
love others, at least try
beyond my ability,
love humanity
to the best of my ability
on a measure deemed stupid by the world's wise,
with a love that doesn't, won't, can't, be
impossible to end
such is corinthian love,
God's love, biblical
such are the matters of my faith
not fantasy,
not surreal,
not scientific, (though i hold such degrees)
surreal to the world, supernaturally real
more real than reality
all things will pass away, but love will remain
love conquers all
love is all
this is about all,
is all about what my faith is about
Experience
He stopped feeding the strays in the alley behind his house.
Sun tunneled into shade there,
Leaving food rank before the cats could get to it.
It chafed,
Knowing somehow,
The howling at night
Was partly his fault.
He didn't want to matter that much,
The burden of proof in silent balls of fur
Expired at his door.
The Things That Give Us Comfort
12/22/15
It’s a song we listen to,
it’s a word that’s said,
it’s how beautiful we look today.
Oh the things that give us comfort.
It’s the tone of their voice,
It’s the vibe that’s sent,
It’s how our message is received.
Yes, the things that give us comfort.
We put our trust in things that are finite,
for a song will come to an end.
The meaning of a word, forgotten, and once a beautiful thing,
now suddenly turned rotten.
But what pleasure we could have if only we place our comfort in:
Something Infinite,
Something Majestic,
Something Divine.
Our God
Midnight leaked it's jet black ink into the vast lake
shimmering slightly with the light of the stars soft glow
no help from the opalescent moon with it's gleaming light
to guide us along our way
but even so
we will not despair
for he knows where we are going
and how we will get to our destination
all we have to do is have faith
for his knowledge is greater
than this ink filled lake
we have found ourselves on
and will guide us with his everlasting love
Our God
May 14, 2000
My mother used to drag me off to church every Sunday. I did everything in my power not to go. From tantrums to fighting, I tried it just to avoid that one damned hour of church.
During those days, she talked a lot of shit on bible thumpers and the hypocritical, ultra-religious types. Little did she know she was one of them.
Me, being (and still am, mind you) at that feisty adolescent time in your life where you always speak your mind, did just that. I called her out on it.
"How can you force me to go to church but complain about other people shoving their beliefs down others' throats? You're a hypocrite."
I'd like to believe we would have skipped a lot of fighting and yelling and crying if I hadn't said that last sentence.
"You're not going to disrespect me that way," she'd say, "now get in the car."
Of course, I'd say no, she'd yell some more, and eventually we'd be haulin' ass towards church so we wouldn't be late (we always were).
The following weeks I asked her that question a lot, and every time she'd avoid it. Talk about something else, ignore me, what have you.
After asking for about the one-hundredth time, she answered.
"You know how I went to a sperm-donor for you and your sister?"
"Yeah."
"I promised God that if I conceived I'd take you to church. I know I didn't for the past eight years of your life, but I'm fixing my promise now."
That shut me up for a little while, but not for long. My family is known for being stubborn, and being a teenager on top of that… you can picture it how I was.
Long story short, I don't go to church anymore. I haven't for a couple months now, actually.
Everyday I wonder if this is real life, or actually hell and I'm unaware of it.
I wonder if my mom made a deal not with god, but with the devil to have me.
But every time I look in the mirror, and I see disheveled hair, red eyes, and blood trickling out the corner of my mouth where life, or hell, has beaten me, I no longer wonder.
My déjà vu tells me I've lived before this, so maybe god really sent me to damnation.
Well, all I've got to say is, if this is hell, I wouldn't change. Even if it meant I'd go to heaven.
I may be bruised, cut, and half dead, but I'm too proud to do that.
So, god, if you're listening…
I may be close to giving up and taking my life, but at least I can say I still haven't ever begged you for forgiveness.
And I don't ever plan to, either.
Religion or Religout
Comprehending life,
understand religions.
Dealing with strife.
Forgiveness for sins.
Tells us how to live,
salvation to be dealt.
Your life you give.
Happiness be felt.
Before giving faith's call,
recognize a similitude.
A truth found in all,
research will conclude.
Love your facade,
your chosen deity.
Love people abroad.
Perfect clemency.
With message so kindled,
what have we missed?
Have we all been swindled?
Told how to exist?
Rectify
Deify
Qualify
Bloody buy
Angels fly
Never cry
Can't get high
You will fry
Never lie
End is nigh
Favor vie
Jesus guy
Heaven's spy
Don't ask why
These words bespeckle,
clear, conscious thought.
To right, you must heckle,
shirking shameful lot.
If God dwells up above,
forgive this bollox.
But I refuse to love,
told how from wooden box.
-Angel Fatale-
Altars aren’t for Me
Wishes are for children.
Then what am I left with, as someone in the middle?
I may have lost all my teeth but my bones still stretch and my shoulders still grow (weary, with the weight of all you've thrust on me)
I once was told to dream to the moon and back, but now I'm expected to be all the shiny words businessmen like:
practical, and realistic,
and here-in-the-moment, without
dreaming with eyes open and running late because the sky was just too stunning.
I thought I loved the stars, but you told me I'll never reach them.
I was told to put my faith in God and my fellow man, but those who would be my brothers and sisters and siblings have only stood by as the jagged edges and sharp points of their words spill the blood of their blood (my Crimson, one thing I can trust) onto cracked pavement and broken promises.
I'll put my faith in what I choose for once. Let them falter as they bid me come with talk of gods and men, of law and wealth -
I trust my sureness of foot,
and my goodness of heart (though my head sometimes has other thoughts)
I trust that each star and sun and moon
is nothing less and nothing more
than what I believe it to be.
Like animals in the wild
Death is the only inevidibility
in a sea of possibilities.
Many of which never really concern us.
And yet, we allow these things to effect us.
To change us.
We have the potential of becoming so much.
And yet, we settle for less.
For a life of little ambition,
ultimately insignificant in meaning.
I see so much wrong with the world,
yet for all the wrongs,
there is some right.
Some...
But not enough.
We need to try harder.
We owe it to ourselves to try harder.
But what stops us from doing so?
Nothing.
Absolutely nothing.
So, until that day comes.
Us humans will continue to hate for nothing.
Torture for nothing.
Kill for nothing.
Until in the end,
we all become a fragment of the people we had the potential
of becoming.
Maybe one day we'll learn,
but then again,
maybe it's all just one continous cycle
until we eventually kill each other off
like animals in the wild.