The Doors of Deception

Six long weeks
roaming the dry crust
of a sun burnt wilderness.
Nothing but rocks and red dust.
The hot desert winds
that flay the skin
… now murmuring,
with words broken
of souls lost and forsaken.
Best I finally surrender
upon this alien terrain
the haunted trauma
of a time I’ve tried in vain
. . . to never remember.

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The Elvis of God

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. . . and the Glam Rock

A child playing
with wildfire rebellion
The tailor who fits you up
swiftly twisting
sweet venom on the tongue
with chemical smoke rising
Into the ghetto of the soul
a toxic river flowing
Body and spirit
within the echo of a scream
a tangled web
of a deceptive dream
For heaven’s sake
sleepwalkers awake
Is it ever too late
to make the big break?
Who’s pulling the strings?
Can you hear the truth
when the Elvis of God sings?

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To Him They Belong

Down to sleep
their souls to keep
Vulnerable
innocent and meek
Shaken into shock
by grim trauma
that seeps
from a broken gutter
Somewhere below life’s glitter
as mothers weep
innocence shattered
beyond all hope
Watch out now
Take care
Beware
Given enough rope
all things dark and fearful
… into the deep

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Like a Rising Stone

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Like a Rising Stone
~ a voyage of homage

A time for Life,
to seek, to be found.
To feel, and to be touched.
To hear truth.
How sweet the sound.
To taste goodness.
Goodness to be tasted.
To love, and to be loved.
Without the Divine,
the time of your life
. . . truly wasted

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Werewolf Déluge

“Just keep on walking!”

I saw a werewolf

with a hymn book in his hand

prowling around

as he sniffed the ground

from Jonestown to Gaza

He’s that well manicured gent

some say he is heaven sent

I’d like to meet his tailor

You can hear him howling

on your television set

Better not turn it on

Little old lady got bitten

late last night

Werewolves of Religion again

. . . Ooh Ahh

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Empathogenesis

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Bursting out
from the Hotel Eden
a thunderous explosion.
The trembling earth
cracked wide open
as from the firery breath
of a vengeful dragon.
Smoke swirling around
angry flames of hot venom.
Shattered glass descending
like vicious rain
over everything broken.
The dead and the dying
a shrine to destruction.
Upon the bloodied lips
of dazed confusion
a burning question …
“How could a loving God
allow this to happen?”

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