PART AND PARCEL

The human condition is an unavoidable experience,

Something of which we were pushed into upon exiting the womb.

God said, “I give you Life, now go do something with it.”

Along the way, each day is like Karma in a particle collider,

The impact of those tiny moments of your life

Slamming violently into your path –

The consequences truly cannot be predicted;

You find out when you get there.

The long, winding road, filled with sinkholes the size of Kansas,

And the wreckage that litters the shoulders,

Delivers you to that final place,

Those last moments of your confounding existence.

What do you do?

What will you make of this strange life you have had?

In the end, all you can take with you,

Are the choices you’ve made,

And the memories of their outcomes,

In an existence that pales beneath the shadows of Time.

THE EXSANGUINATED STONE

Reason left pooled beneath my slumping head,

No use fighting anymore.

Piled up in the corner are all my journals and expositions

Expounding my weariness and dissillusionment:

“Where do I go from here?”

Animated conversations of self,

The spiritual tug-of-war that will never know a victor,

Convoluted and self-ingratiating,

A reservoir of personal contaminants,

A litany of fear and loathing –

I am just ranting now…

PANORAMIC VIEW

Wide eyed youth

Giving way to bleary eyed man,

Taking the world in

As it spins so violently,

So strangely out of control.

Breathing in, breathing out,

The simple act of stopping,

For just one second,

And watching the Architect’s vision

In all its calibrated and anarchic glory,

Its end nowhere near,

Its majesty unparalleled,

And its beauty unsung.

IN THE ARMS OF NAIVETE

I still believe the world can get it’s act together,

Put down the guns,

Shine a light into the darkness,

And reach its hands out to the struggling millions.

I still cling to the hope that love will trump money,

And that peace will replace war.

I want to live and breathe in a world

No longer divided, but united.

Each night I go to sleep,

My dream is filled with such hope, such faith,

And each morning, I awake to the same nightmare.

Fear and death and hate and violence,

Against ourselves, each other, and the world.

One day it may end,

We may all be a union of faith, hope and love.

Or we may be destined for darkness eternal,

A hollowed kernel of pain,

Spinning violently through the universe,

A pebble, a speck, an ever-revolving turd.

DOOMMONGER

Hallowed be that one thing we all see

The darkness a simple veil that lightly covers

Your smirking face

As my misfortune swells beneath me.

Fraying against the heated breath

Those angels, betrayers

Forcing me into contradiction

All for the sake of righteousness.

I find myself unbound, unfurled amidst the chaos

The hyperbole of the mundane

Inarticulate and numb

Just a cowering fool in your bellowing presence.

A beast amongst sheep

The shepherd lay bludgeoned,

Rotted flesh

I am freedom’s false prophet.

A spinning globe upon an axis of naivete,

The meandering souls

Without truth

Ensnared by the Devil’s soundbytes.

Victimless, silent

Cowardly, violence addicts

Corrupted

And awash in the blood of the damned.

THE ARK OF THE COVENANT (POSTMODERN EDITION)

Freely expressed

Pain, pleasure, bewilderment, fancy

The oddities of human frivolity

And wretched excess.

I feel the inclination

To plunge headfirst

Into my own grave

And pull the coffin door closed.

Yet the world outside

Will still be noisy

Still be dark

And still be puzzling.

For in all the chaos

All the mess

I still see a tiny sliver of hope

Of brilliant light.

It is just out of reach

Faint

And hanging precariously

Like dogshit underneath God’s shoe.