Come Again

Disappointing circles filling vacant lots
Hard to hear over the sound of nothing
against the hardened drive of a masculine endeavour
Who’s want is it anyway?

Glancing through 20/20 vision
Seeing reds and blues
but never a full view

What’s it meant to mean?
This laughter, this day
What’s it mean to meant?
Today, when we laugh?

Thank you, come again!
Plasticity, more courteous than humanity
Being thanked by capital
For dying to truth
Living for death
Yearning

Narcissistic self-helpings
Consumption consuming
“My life: the worst”
Suffering ripped out reason’s empathy

Death to us all, amen, hallelujah!

Advertisements

The Fear of God

Dear God, why should I think You’re good in a world that’s falling apart?
The flags and lies, picket signs raised high, the endless enveloping dark
Now here we sit, drifting further from You, two thousand years on their way out
Now here I am, as I’ve grown to know You, still haunted by my fears and my doubts

Just a man, just a vapor, just a waste of your space
All the good that I’ve done is in spite of myself
I’m not sure that I can look You in Your face when I finally set foot in Your kingdom

Dear God, what went wrong? We hate ourselves, we hate our brother
We so desperately want to find our way, and all You say is “love one another”

And little babies starve to death, emaciated, out of breath
Unfaithful wives make vows untrue, husbands beat them black and blue
Junkies vomit in the streets, writhing, twitching in their skin
Sell themselves to die some more, rotting from the outside in
Parents steal the innocence from their children, scared and shaking
Drink away the guilt at night, brings quiet to the endless aching
And evil men boast on TV, swimming in a sea of wealth
While misery beds honest men, and lonely people kill themselves
And everyone cries out Your name, as the world is raped by selfishness
And no one knows the way to heaven, we only know the emptiness
And the storm it rages in my heart, and the endless empty roars in my ears
My world is coming all apart, I’ve no strength left to dry my tears
And through it all I hear Your voice, breaking my heart, breaking my will
Calms the storm inside my soul as You whisper “peace, be still…”

You place Your hands around my heart, You quiet the emptiness in me
A king that kneels, a God made a servant, You set the captives free
You wait for me, a wretch of a man, no record of wrongs do You keep
You are comfort when I mourn, You are strength when I am weak
Jesus Christ, the king of kings
Though we ache, though we cry, never break, never die
We sing of His great love again and again
And His love reigns forever, and forevermore
Forever and ever, Amen

This song is probably one of the most beautiful things I’ve ever heard. I can’t stop listening to it.

Song written and recorded by the musical group Showbread. I hold no rights to this song or lyrics.

Silent Violence

Your silence is your violence,
it’s beating in the face of their victims.
You’re no better than the perpetrators,
you and you’re inaction.
Take the time to be still,
if it produces movement.
If piety leads to sacrifice,
call me a heretic
and let me be merciful.

Different

At this point in my life I expected to have it all figured out, or at least be over it…

Whatever ‘it’ is.

Life’s a journey, a search for meaning – the preacher preaches a eulogy, usually.

A message not of hope, but greatness.

He believes he’s dressing his congregation in potential, but they’re really draped in sorrow.

A generation disillusioned by expectations of exceptionalism.

Sensationalism!

Vanity of vanities of vanities of vanities!

Life sucks and then you die, and get to do it all again…

Forever.

The meaningless hopefulness rushing around – grasping after productivity’s fleeting breath.

The drug of choice for the pious – living for the next whiff, we disregard the greatest least of these.

Come one come all, join in the spectacle of artificial immortality!

But what is immortality without life?

We did it – we saved them from the fiery pits.

If you think you were alone before, you’ll soon find yourself lost in this wasteland where we killed god, and buried him above ground, right next to the elephant in the room that holds twice as much value to our hide-like hearts.

We’ve revered the creation, and pissed on the Christ.

What beautiful emptiness is this?

MUTINY: a choice. A King who chose to stoop down to our level who chose to kill the king who stooped to our level so we could rise to his level, because I am the most important people in the universe.

Disguised by our wrath, we cut off our head – but a coin must have two sides.

Life sucks as a whore, and then you die.

And then you get to do it all over again…

Forever.

He loves me still.

It’s different this time.

Dietrich

41945
The martyr feeds the children
With blood and bone
And a life etched on stone

Seven seeds planted in East Germany
Living concrete
Dying to obey
Obeyed to death

Realistically – fifth to left
Anxious in seat
G to A to G
GAG
New York
Breslau

Destruction. Uprising.
The last three ends.
Dawning of the idol..

Servant leader
Gain the high underground
Pews on the ceiling
No strained necks.

Soon, a call for dusk.
A chance.
Practical Piety.
Trump card.

Ethics: a manifest destiny.
41943: caught.
Tell tales
of wounds that heal.
Ending the beginning,
41945.