O Lord,
Thou hast said, As much thou hast seen me, thou hast seen the Father.
I have seen thee.
I have seen the Father.
And so I ask,
As much as I have seen my own mother, have I also seen thine?
O Lord,
Thou hast said, As much thou hast seen me, thou hast seen the Father.
I have seen thee.
I have seen the Father.
And so I ask,
As much as I have seen my own mother, have I also seen thine?
Is not Alexander his name?
And a coppersmith his trade?
No, sayeth one of the Annointed's apostles
Such is the record of another man
yet this one did as much evil nonetheless
and hath received rewards according to his works
for he hath greatly withstood our words
Be thou ware of him
imagining one’s self to be a new Moses
supposing his brethren would understand
that God would deliver by his hand
But they understood not
while he gloried in imprecations
Becoming a terror to good works
he destroyed the image of God
and established a rival of divine justice
He knew that no man hath greater love
than when his life is laid down for his friends
So he condemned her as no friend
and framed her as God’s enemy
He justified his own and stopped caring for hers
as though God hath rewarded his equity
If she suffered from wrong, it was no longer by him
for he was no longer called to help her through suffering
having suffered much already
His calling now was to smite pharaohs, not keep covenants
Wilt thou ever interrogate thy self O Adam?
What inhabits thy mind now?
What kind of soul dost thou have now?
The soul of a predator or its prey?
Answer the call of accountability preached by thee
Let no rank seek exemption
Frame no more mischief with law or its grace
It’s a strange feeling to have her closer in proximity than you
You were there growing up with us, when we both seemed dead
You became close to both of us only when the family divided and fell apart
You dragged me, effectually, as the puritans would say
But her…You towed her away
I now study her scriptures and ask, How did you survive?
Why did you survive?
I was given so much after everything fell apart
You had so much taken away that never returned
You abandoned us, perhaps, for a summer
But we abandoned you and cut you off like cancer
And we never returned
But you did return
Thank you for returning
And please, thank him for returning you to me
Such intercessions tow me closer in proximity to him
The clock ticks with his voice
Nothing is said, but he calls us
Outside of time, the virtual aristocracy opines
Within time and above it, according to mumbles within armchairs
These are the kinds of games nintendo can’t fathom
And as the clock ticks, I hear little feet offer their cadence above
Little animals playing in his zoo
All will wither and fade as the food they consume
Some will be deified and—hopefully—become zookeepers
I hear them dropping thingamabobs on the firmament above, as the clock ticks with his voice
Save—save—save this imprint of every passing memory with stars marking one idea after another.
No page of your Scriptures shall be forgotten.
You are like a star shining over the cosmos with miracles, holy mother of mine.
And so I sing a hymn of praise with you, the one presented in the temple of God, during this great feast.
There we will offer gifts in a double portion.
There, in the garden, we will walk together and receive food from the hand of an angel.
There, at the mountain of God, a mother and her child are received.
And if we cannot ascend this Mount together, let it split in two and take us down to hide us, and shine its light upon us, turning holy blood to stone around us.
Favor is with those who fear our Lord, to whom be glory into the ages—of ages—of Ages.
‘Twas two weeks ‘til Thanksgiving
But one week to relax
And play games or just chat long
While grazing on snacks
But inside of our bodies
Crept imaginary
Disease causing germs
That would kill if one sneezed
Some then fretted all night long
And then caved in to test
And expected the rest
To approve their behest
Because that day just might come
When they’d feel slightly warm
Or wake up just like normal
Of there being no harm
But without being tested
They might never know
If living life normal
Was just placebo
With trillions of toxins
Inside us already
The last thing we need
Is to foster anxiety
By testing and testing
and testing some more
That guarantees nothing
and increases stress more
Many understand little
Yet think they care best
Ignoring high false positives
Of RT-PCR tests
Many also don’t realize
That a swab up the nose
Is far less effective
Than turning off their phones
toward minds conspiring, calculating,
dancing in preparation for the next act
in our collective hollywood production
Is coffee or tea next for our day?
Perhaps we pay our water bill and release some fumes first
What comes next doesn’t really matter
as long as our batteries are charged
These cyborgic extensions of our selves
don’t live if we don’t breathe into their nostrils
This dead wooden cadaver wants to recognize your face
and fill your life with purpose and meaning and value and faith
Stop expending much needed energy
turning knobs or tuning your patience in at six o’clock
Sit back and say, 'Hey, Kookle!' or "See Wee?" to get each fix
Sip the professional productionism in slowly while its warm
They keep our dials on low heat for us, twenty four seven
Relax and refill and indulge with fact-filled sweeteners as needed
You deserve it and they know it
You’ve worked hard this day
You need a break
They’ve got updates every waking minute
and breaking news tailored just for you