Snaps PLease

My ferocious.
At do withdrew,
numerous.
Is frequently plural?
To former in cheap solemn.
Be it fulfill hemisphere intrusive.
That hereditary? For the audition bags.




So this is some junkmail I got the other day... It is, I assume, some word generator they have created to try and bypass the filters. But... it comes out sounding like beatnik poetry in some small way....
"My Feriocious." I like that... Ask not for whom the audition bags... It bags for YOU.

Perf-ect

Tiny perf you’re short for something

Words that get chopped consider where goes the rest

A tiny graveyard made just for them

The character we invent to be the task master of this imagined penal colony…

fax

info

res

Do you keen for your ending mates?

The other parts the completeness you never knew you missed?

What Happens over Jazz

Words fly and are the measure of man
Take stock of your syntax, your sinful desire
See what you are
What you were
Realizing that the past was a sum total of an equation you forgot
Sitting, languishing in a book bag never cleansed.

Intrepid reason collides with plebeian emotion
Trying to out do each other, the dare comes out
The double dog, the triple, can you handle that?

Graded heads bowing and bobbing to the god we created
not of blood and bone but of high minded intellect
worship until we weep, panting plaintively over another one
lost to the faith we have so carefully constructed.

Burned on a Saturday Night

Hot milk – steamed bliss

Running out of that marvel machine – hiss…

Comes from a cow, but don’t tell me how

You make it sound only like so much… well

From boy to grown man, is there anything better?

The smoothness of cream, the sweetness of butter

A love affair that began at state fairs

4H you are the one true god

Melatonin, melatone-down my life

It’s a mad mad mad mad cow disease

To keep a secret so incomprehensible

complex drink full of math and chemistry

whipped and added, frothed and chilled

boiled, putrefied, curdled and milled

Romance of lactose, a sweet caress on the tongue

For that frothy Freudian, my tastes yearn

Yet… wait, my lid? Is it not on quite right—sigh

And now what’s there to show? Second degree burns.

Our Welsh flowers Bloom Anew

What happens in the intermittent?

The space between the spaces we thought we could control?

Flesh flies and feelings turn and double and triple

Back around to a place they started that’s not the same point as before.

Some masochistic equation that needs yards of board and chalk to even attempt to resolve.

Solve for x

Solve for me.

Hours and hours a day turn to wisps of memory and gossip transferred from here to here to here to her…

But still the oldest adages are the truest.

That time brings temperance in a sweet cool way.

That wisdom begets age begets wisdom begets wonder.

Everything else burns away in the crucible of time

That ever-present effervescent animal that lurks stalking and devouring all but the things that are most real.

The things that Are

So we stand here at this corner stripped bare of everything that used to comfortablely cloth us

We stand here survivors of another age

Believers in a renewed evangelist

Wishers of a reconciliation

Well.... Hell.

Hey guess what? The creator of the universe? Yeah, he doesn't need to to start a Facebook group about how scientists in Siberia drilled a hole to Hell and then tell everyone that if they don't want to be tortured they had better sign up for teh Christian bandwagon.

http://www.snopes.com/religion/wellhell.asp

Four seconds of research tells you it isn't true, and then what does it do? It makes Christians look like a bunch of gullible morons who don't have any idea what is true.

So do me a favor. The next time you get the urge to start a new group about how great God is, and put links to all the "true" stories of faith out there? Don't. The faith will be a lot better of without you.

In a one horse open Slay

In this time of Christmas we are reminded as Christians of the place of Christ's birth, that little town in Bethlehem. It still exists in apartheid ruled Palestine. A zionist, not a jewish, government holds the land in a stranglehold even after 50 years of conflict.

For the past half century the people of the people who live in that place that was once the site of the Holiest night have not known the security of peace or the divinity of security and peace.

For the past 50 years people like me have fought and railed and educated, and inevitabley delt with the frustration that comes from fighting a grass roots battle against monetarily endowed giants who feed the ignorance of people the world over.

As in so many situations art has risen to the surface to give voice to the frustration and the anger we all share.
Banksy has just put up a new show in Bethlehem. Check him out if you can.