on the Boyne

On The Boyne
2-1-16

Back to battle with the laundry machines
For when the moon is a counterfeit
She says I'm not as sorry as I should be
In my battle of my Boyne
The armies fled to France
As I reckoned till morning
Getting a good head start
Expecting another little victory
That as a lion so he will break all my bones
Where the road is full of nails
Our citizenship is in heaven
For which we eagerly wait
To love and not hate
To destroy and recreate...




Our Appeal
2-1-16

Our appeal for unity among us all
I step out for another square
I reckon till morning and the case is closed
With my brother off the grid
In a grotto he hid like a swallow
Like a crane yet to wallow
In dreams of cocaine
As a dove mine eyes fail
With looking upward inscribed in our minds
What shall I say?
I shall go softly
All my years in this bitterness
I did mourn as a dove...





All Seek Their Own
2-1-16

Whose end is destruction
Whose god is their belly
Even to subdue all things unto himself
What shall I say?
He spake unto me and himself
O, Lord by these things men live
She says I'm not as sorry as I ought to be
Chewing dry meat in a house of disrepute
The living, the living he shall praise thee
Casting sins behind my back
In losses and wins
And a new plan of attack
For the grave cannot praise thee
And death will not tolerate it any longer
For the same reason you also be glad and rejoice with me
And I expect a victory....






On Isaiah 38:19
2-1-16

Trying to wake up the right way
For a newfound freedom at the chime of seven
I paint upon my face a smile
Therefore let us as many as so are for the grave
Cannot praise thee but thou has the love for my soul
Deliver it from the pit of corruption
The living, O the living
As I do this day
We praise Him on high
The father to the children shall make known the truth
And I comb my hair till it's just right
It's here that I begin again...