I CAN'T DECIDE....

how to leave my cave
how to get past the soldiers
& the poverty
& the pain
without leaving collateral damage
in every nation

I wrote 'come to me'
they flooded the roads
leading into Chicago

I wrote 'ducks too long here
from the warming'
& the planes disappeared from the sky

I wrote 'forgive everyone'
& they mistook me for King Solomon
telling them to cut their children in half
& draw their made-up maps on their souls

I wrote 'throw off your slave names'
stand up queens and Kings
& they took their arms
to war to win more land

I wrote 'kill off your hatred's'
arm yourself in body and spirit
against your oppressors
& they attacked only the hatreds of others

I wrote 'send me word from your leaders'
& they sent me the lies of lobbiests
spies & money mongering fools

Now
IN THIS TIME
OF HORRIBLE JUDGMENT
I LAUGH NO MORE

I AM HERE NOW!!!
NOW!!!

I AM FULLY AWAKE!!!
MY ENEMIES ARE ALREADY DEAD
IN MY EYES
THEIR SOUL'S TOO HELL BOUND
for me to much more than wave goodbye
wipe off my tears
& angrily march on
striving without hope
to give birth to this child of peace
She alone can hand me mt discharge papers
She alone can lead this angry god
back to tend his gentle flock

Inside my enemies I can see
the redeemers
trapped by their hatreds
hear the whispers of wise words
they once knew
'''drowned out now
by their whining screams
I( can see the golden souls withing them
covered in rancid bullshit

free will is an illusion of time and hanit
man is serving unjust laws
false gods
and unholy icons
too often to even notice

unseen free radicals bounce off our faces
etching the lines
our loved ones will try to read
through the make up covering our corpses
how much better if they could
read an honest memoir
uncensored/without the secrets
hidden by the hero stories
& polite funeral conversation

we want our lives to be a straight
line from birth to heaven
some road we can tear up eden and build
drive over in our SUV's
surrounded by our own private arttmies

God sees you traveling in circles
trampling over the same old ground
until the foliage is crushed under foor
and even a single blade of grass
on a distant hill
is more green
than your clear-cut forests

Now...
you come to me and asn me to save you?

MY FATHER'S WRATH
IS HIS BUSINESS
not mine...
I am here only for the soldiers
who listen to the meek
for the lambs who follow the peaceful

though my prayers aare for all
I am merely the night janitor
called in to clean up your mess
believe what you want
you will meet your maker
in joy or agony
in life or death

I am merely an open gate
it is up to you whether you wish
to enter my house
or run away