fresh

Fresh
3-31-13





Impudent, lippy and fresh are my fields
Of the words I yet hope to thresh
Given that which lies in the real me
I am yet to discover
Where knowledge is the whore
And wisdom will serve as my lover
Given this complex fraction
Of the consciousness that remains
With all caffeine and nicotine raging through my veins
Of all that is impudent, lippy and fresh
Among the rare tracks
Where Garcia doth accompany Lesh....








Pneumatology
3-31-13


By the pneumatology of household supernatural activity
My cat runs rampart
Chasing the spirits I had refused to believe in
By my days of Christian based narrow-mindedness
That I would claim as my own
In hopes to think straight
And to stay on my path
Leading to the knowledge at hand
Praying on this night for positive change
And to befriend and confront
All that seems impossible and strange
Yet to make it real
In all I think and feel....










On Hebrews 8:11
3-31-13


All will come to know the Lord in due time
Where even infidels take up the sword
In that all will in due time be made right
Where by way of pen and tablet
I hope to watch my skies tonight
Of that which seems to be as malarkey
Of my stream of consciousness flow
In rivers to deeper seas
With pumpkin seeds and wasabi peas
Feeling the vibrations of Dylan archives
That reverberate across this room tonight
In endeavors for free verse and flow...










On Matthew 5:42
3-31-13


Giving to those that ask
On the corner of Market and Queen
Hoping to be the light today
And to know what it all can mean
Turning them not away
Where I make again my library scene
Given this evening God's grace
As a light by which to write
With optimism opportune for the week ahead
Eating only raisins and seeds
Seeing that met here and now are all wants and needs
Giving to those whom ask
Because such is what is written of the real me
I am yet to meet by the Way....










Alms In Secret
3-31-13


Doing not ones works to be seen of men
Looking not to get something out of how I apply this pen
To let it all up to God
Just what the reward should be
Hoping to put pen to parchment again
Till the hour of three
As a seemingly impossible pipe dream
Of my yesterdays in the dust
Where I find fresh drowsiness
In the invitation of lust
Doing not these alms to be seen of them....








Being Born
3-31-13


One is not forgiven
When he does not forgive
As I seek out the cleansing of my conscience
So that I might live
Easier written in rhyme than done
Where I need renounce a name such as the Sun
As I look around this room
Knowing not the ruin
Of short hair I need no longer groom
Yet regarding my past tense onion and mushroom
Recalling my dreams of when I was yet in the womb
Crying like the baby that exits into cold air
Trying to pretend that I no longer care
But seeing that indeed I do.....