1.

we are I to I – waging war with whispers; we are dust particles, collective conscious glue. we act as if we matter. death was born to destroy life as we know it. maybe we should practice a different kind of comprehension, or ignorance? at least, a new one…

i – damned of. what man fails. to understand: the question. suffered by. traditional answer; i tire, attempt to, make muse in the mockery of misinterpreted messiahs. by lecture of pen, eye channel to transcribe – sadness is not mere evidence for tears/transverse truths; two or more dead flowers still rooted in earth, is a garden. sorrow does not suppress smiles. perhaps it is even, eclipsed by them.

people pay more attention to accidents than parades: God’s photogenic side is Satan.

crazy: a fire escape route from hell to heaven. they’ll think it sacrilegious for me to say, “Jesus would be straitjacket material today.” what does the masses do to our schizophrenic population now? we tune out their ramblings with psychotropic me(d)eye/sin; any frequency that appears to be getting free – will cost. curses put wait on faith – we should all be trying to walk on water.

this is my head sea/horses have galloped to my rescue – waist-down they keep me torso-up; anything at eye-level is righteous.

2.

i like the bass-line Satan ****s to. when i reach that bottom floor of fire, you’ll hear me scream, “that’s my shit”; as a flashback of my temptations treble thru tweeters and vibrate flames, i’m gonna grab the hottest demon i see, grind on her like the slow jam eternity is. forgive me father for you have sinned; created a creature that gives good head – con/science speaking. the double-dick pleasure of duality: the devil teaching you wrong – the devil teaching you.

morals should make you masturbate. anything that good for you, should feel good to you. and angels were the first voyeurs – they should watch. i like to color in coloring books with my non-dominant hand during orgasm. scribble outside the lines. come/outside of myself. holiness is a dissenter: leave your damn body, follow your spirit. make love to gospel songs, i sincerely doubt that Jesus knows the words. callout your favorite disciple; my love and i like to quote psalms and proverbs – but do whatever gets you closest to freedom. animals? Genesis. Noah. whatever floats your ark. the book of revelations has horned beasts, complete chaos, and apocalyptic adventures for the freak in you. what say ye? what shall you do with the power of profanity?

do not waste the wine people!

3.

is the light associated with love, Lucifer’s?

she is a warm glow inside of me. her pointer finger rubs against my wall, and turn me on. i bet you Solomon was into watching same-sex relations – you can’t convince me that one of his 700 wives didn’t love him so much she wanted to taste the ***** of the last ***** he was in just to have the flavor of his penis, once again. come on son, you can’t tell me that Naa/mah - didn’t get her name by pushing some new chic to the side. getthe****outtahere!

4.

we dialogue about night, as if not to wake nature. and raise our voices as noonday sun, in total disregard of the moon’s rest. we don’t know what is diminished in goodness when we boast of it. yet, we commute to evil over eggshell and murmur. all of the universe is listening; bats and whales have coveted private thought. put the possibility up to your heart and here it. touch and feel it with your ears. taste it with your I – can’t you see that?

eye am the reflective image of Her with supreme vision. you doubt the distance at which i can see light penetrate darkness; you whom wear the corrective lenses of commandment – seeing from stone ages. you, in need of mediator between one/ness – thinking polar opposites are not the same. continuum…

as if my mind and soul are not the suffering grace of dissociative identity disorder; you whom will trust science enough to locate the maladaptive gene of my wicked disposition, until asked to put your faith in a Petri-dish.

you, who believe that your beliefs will save you from the self you be/leaving. you, who conclude that my values are a rite of passage to damnation. damn you. for i am. your left thoughts aiming to get right.

you who do not appreciate a jonesin’ Jesus. a panhandling prophet pinching pennies like copper peyote – looking for shamans on the lifelines of passerby’s. you who deem the trinity womanless – preferring a ghost over a live womb. you who will sick your church hounds on me, prey me into corners, bark me up the tree of knowledge – and serve me as communion when i fall. you who say i am the antichrist – when it is the word that births, that is therefore – for, a returning messiah. when it is me. whom will.

write it.
amen.

Interesting views and thought process...

yes..interesting read.