First Will

(a testament)

that’s mine, you can’t said with a shove
all manifest a sprouting Will.
Bend it early into Love –
or one day it may seek to kill!
This surge of self that shapes a soul
is like those compounds found in flowers
[ten drops destroys, but one makes whole]
or salt, that makes taste bright or sours.
Seek Pride of actions, not blind Pride
for Love must serve to aid, increase
not to possess, keep by one’s side –
let Love and Will unite in Peace.
     Passion governing hearts, but never the head
     By tempered Will alone is Love properly led.

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what if…?

what if
your most noble sentiments –
most generous and lofty ambitions –
were not at all rooted
in what was rammed into you
since childhood?

what if
the very finest of you
is what miraculously managed
to escape all that formatting?

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This question is so fundamental to our understanding of who we are that I even tweeted it!
what if your finest
generous, noble sentiments
were NOT rooted
in what was rammed into you…
but what miraculously
escaped formatting?

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There is No Hope of Return

And that is good – Good News [if it be true]
for history is blood-besotted and littered with lies –
guilt-mongering tyrannies quick to label ignorance sin
to sap man’s natural strength and innocent pride
divert his attention to the needs of the present
with sops of celestial rectifications – promises
of unverifiable futures bought with current submissiveness.

There is no hope of return?
O Warrior God who lies in state in heaven –
would that the gates of your gilded mirage
remain locked forever.

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Theological Apologetic


for Robert J.Foss

If needs must
                 proclaim divinities
     bridge the finite chasms
             with infinities
                       baptize evanescent bliss
        then let your future fetish
            be no less than this –
   A Being to embrace the sum of being
                 so that we may invoke a blinded entity –
      O Holy Bat  – beside some great All-Seeing

       If even lowly men can know regret
                then model me
             a truly penitent god – and don’t forget
      the one who spied himself  
                        in some celestial glass
                as he strolled by
        and in his fleeting likeness
                         fashioned us  –
                that mutton-headed cuss
                            then quite forgot
                and left us here beyond the gate to die – alas

   Why not now some likelier template seek
             and while you’re at it, brother,  
                         quit pretending to be meek !
               Invent at last a god resembling –
    a thing with teeth and claws –
                       an eminently laughable
                lawless giver of the laws  
      so we may worship THAT – all aspects in one prayer
        a god who wouldn’t give a fig for our dispair
                          a dervish turncoat given to disguises
                   a god prone to reward
           the very things he most despises
     capable of the loftiest creation
                     given to mean and base destruction
          propounding truths without foundation
                                and lies – derived by sound deduction –
       a multi-facetted unfathomable One
              some ultimate in oxymoron
                              intransigent forgiver
                        abstemious high-liver…
                 or is that the god we’ve got?
           
       if gods you must have
              then grant them this above all else –
                      since even the lowliest of the low
        possess it –  the living right to improve
               to get better, to grow, to understand and evolve
           
          invent, for pete’s sake, a genuine genius –
                 something that may be said
        at least to have lived a rounded loving life
                    before, exhausted,  it dropped dead

          or allow the heavenly landlord
                                      to deal with us, for a change
      grow richer and more benevolent in the exchange
         
       … or maybe just let him be
                               fucking fallible !
                        a truly living god
                  a genuinely on-going
                            All-Knowing

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A Call to Arms

 madness blankets the earth
     [ponderous, stifling]
sanity sleeps lightly
               in the margins
                                   on its border
                   like a silk binding –
             poetry a grace note
      in some thundering overture
           to a hoped-for Humanity

 the coda to hypocrites’ prayers
          can never be
       a more allegedly
                 sincere devotion
         [however sweet the tune]
    but the demolition of those fictions
 that are the resurgent pharoahs’ tools
            of enslavement
                 and alienation

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To happenstance the glory

for my grandchildren

the hoped for –
rosaried, novenaed
and otherwise devoutly prayed for –
occurs
so they engrave
their thankyous
in marble
for their local
cathedral

but if there were
even postagestamp-size ex-votos
for each unanswered daily prayer
every wall of every edifice
ever built by man
could not contain them all

and when the baby
relapses –
will that also be
at the whim of their god?

no racism intended
but that would make
the almighty imagined diety
an indian-giver.

 

 

 

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A spot of bad-mouthing

I recognize no divinities
but Light
and the Earth that bore me –
They are father and mother
if your peabrain runs
to anthropomorphisms

and should I meet in some great by and by
a jealous bastard who lives in the sky
I’ll give him what for – then spit in his eye!
[This I do so solemnly promise]

and while we’re at it, I want the word
propitiation
struck from the language

turning away wrath
with offerings
[…of other creatures’ bodies
burning like as not…]
if that’s your soteriology
well, it’s not so hot
and how the fuck
would that put a creator
in a good mood anyway?

What kind of Father’s heart
is softened by the sight
of his son being tortured
and cruelly murdered ?
If the afterlife
is run by the mafia
I’ll give it a pass.

People who buy into this shit
are scared shitless of death
or have less common sense
than witless sheep.

Some vengeful, wrathful
mysogynous homophobic
creep won’t get my vote
for president
of the universe

and beyond proping up
short legs on sofas
some fat old tomes
are of little use
in the real world…
no matter what language
they are scribbled in.

Save me from all
hoary drivel.
Amen.

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