We’ve borrowed from the future. I won’t be surprised if the future borrows from us. The future has a name: Bill.
Poor Tending
Show enough
Awe
That
The future wood be
They saw
Poor tending
A poverty
A cross
The land
And it’s people
Any weigh
You cut it
I see the most powerful spiritual truth in order to manifest awesome human life is living with simple fact that we are all kids of God and siblings to one another. I suggest that this means that we should not kill one another.
We Are Awe Kids
I have know problem
Killing kids
Accept those children of God
The Passed
How due you
Sail the see
You can knot
Change the past
Just the same
You can change
The weigh
You look at it
This poem is a reflection on the rich ruling and fooling the masses, while Christians routinely buy into the American nightmare of consumption as success, happiness and security. Mean wile, we are crucifying Mother Earth and abandoning our siblings of God to wolves.
Collusion Assurance
The moneyed
Assure their plot
In the anals of history
As long ass they reign
Their fans hitting
With wide I pupils
And idol acolytes
As collude and delude
With the elect fewed
The well heeled
The will of deep pockets
Crucify
In whatever
Manor
Suits
The daze
Awe the wile
Christians where
There crucifixes
Around their necks
Like millstones
Stumbling into the buy and buy
As altar natives wrestless
Better off
Flung
Into the see
Then reckon the whirled
I have disabused myself of the lazy notion that things have to get worse before they can get better. There are better and worse choices in every situation. We can always choose better. There is no low in which we can’t go lower; and there is no high in which we can’t go higher…
High and Lo
There is no bottom
Too low
As the world is fucked
There is no pinnacle
Too soaring
As humanity teems with love
There are know boarders
In the dominion of hubris
Steeling our hearts
There are no fences
In the hows of the spirit
Given to awe
The oneness of reality is a gift, presence, that cannot be bought, only given, a way…
That Witch is Wholly
He clumsily axed
What
I
Don’t
Halve
A soul
That witch is wholly
And can knot be bought
Only souled
Where Treasure Lies
“For where your treasure is, there your heart will be also.” Matthew 6:21
Some might
Say he helled
Nothing back
Varily they are tolled
As the why’s
In vest
In the whirled
Fore the time being
Their plays reserved
On earth
As their treasure lies
Sow is the art
Of living
Eternally now
Be awe sow
Deliverance is not just a scary 1970’s backwoods, murderous, horror film…
Delivered
There is an infinity
Of poems
You have
Delivered me
Sow says the muse
For allegedly not existing, God is quiet powerful…
Meting Expectations
I could scarcely take it in
Where God met
And exceeded
My expectations
Which was awe
The more true
If God didn’t exist
I aspire to be a juggernaut of whimsy…
Flimsy Whimsy
His whimsy
Wins shot threw
With wholes
As bowling over
An incalculable number of angles
Dancing on a pinhead
And broke in
The mine
Of the presser
Like a reed
That can’t be
Put down
Buy throwing the book at him
Flaying spines
And judging more
Bye cover
Than soles fleeing
And legends untolled
As what is
Amiss understanding
Frayed in a sense
Of what weave got
In order
Too win
A basket case
Going know where
In recent years I have realized that literally anything can be gaslighted. This seems to be related to our huge capacity to rationalize, particularly when anything happens to get in the way of something we want. This poem is a meditation of this particularly lazy form of aggression.
Scene Buy Gaslight
It was
Soully then
Eye real I’s
It was passable
Too gaslight everything
And any won
Too get
What I want
A knot too tall order
Short circuiting
My hire self
And tripping
Awe that is
Looking up
Just complaining
Looking down
Up on
Low and be-holed
Be little me
That scene
Buy gaslight
Just One
My soul possession is
What God gives me
There is just
Won thing you can
Urn
Being able to simultaneously mourn and act urgently is the true multitasking of this age.
Time of Daze
There’s daze
When awe ready
Finding oneself
At high noon
Soully too realize
Never enough mourning
In the time of daze
High noon arrives
Any weighs
Let me know if this poem is worth the punchline…
Shorted – The Short Game Playing
We are getting
Stupider and stupider
Foolisher and foolisher
Dis regarding science
Heeding into foolhardiness
And heartlessness
As scorn points
Soully paying
Attention to 1,000,000’s and 1,000,000,000’s
Those trinities of zeroes
Less sow
To everything ails
That zero sum game
0+0+0=0
We need more
Zeroes
Less like
Picking won self up
Bye bootstraps
More kin
Shorted
Buy a wedgie
Playing it safe is tricky. So is trusting God or others…
A Safe Abet
Lored God
Awe might he
Most people want
A safe
Abet
A prison
No one
Can break into
And deliberately restricted heir
Distraction and bloviating are part and parcel to the Grifter-in-Chief.
Aside Hustle
Look hear
Look their
Oh my
My
My sketchy opinions
Are under raided
A keen mine fullness
Souled a bill of goods
Be ware at your own
A peril
Frayed
Too dis regard
Dis traction
In the tension
He con me
In the mean time
Taken
Fore a fuel
In the largesse faux
This poem is specially for those impatient with being a patient…
Patients
If you want patience
Start with won
Be patient
A ward will come later
I see deep passion is a touchstone for abundant life. What makes you come alive? I hope that your passions are contagious!
Killer Passions
Do you think
His passions killed him
I certainly
Hope
Sow
Let’s table Homeland Security…
What Wood Be
In listing
Homeland Security
Jesus
They came for
A cross
The weigh
From the garden
And the vineyard owner said
Oh
That owed thing
I AM
A kind
Of carpenter
I made that
Into a table set
For awe of us
O marvelous infinity!
O What Move He
I Marvel™
At being
Infinity stoned
Weather graphic
Novel
Or cartoonish characters
Onto the big screen
Culled out
Fore that yet bigger
O what move he
