Final Mirrors

Deep senses a deep despair
Hearing the pending wails
Be it from constructed enemies
Or be it from inside jobs
It’s here it’s here
And those of us who see
Are just victims of conspiracy
And the indifferent don’t want to believe
Turn their heads like it won’t happen to me
And the thieves in the temple
Playing along with feel good schemes
Smiling faces
Laying down for material dreams
Pep rallies say we are all ok
While the devil deals in the back rooms of self
Blinding the blind to the impending hells
Make us like the rulers
Answer to no one
And be it the new red
The new nazi
Or ISIS or the new kamikaze
Deep senses despair
And the indifferent
Goes on smiling
Like it won’t affect them
So they didn’t care
Mirrors mirrors on our walls
See the parallel and
See how the deeds call
The truth and deceit makers
See the creation
And see the fakers
The confusions and confusions author
Gets his turn at the wheel
The stealer of all the created
Gets his final steal
But the deep senses
All the loss
Sees the price
And the indifferent or the angry
Don’t care the cost
But as for me
I saw the thing
And somehow in my deep despair
Stared death down and still believed
Still alive
and still free
No matter what the mirror did to me

He will oppose and will exalt himself over everything that is called God or is worshiped, so that he sets himself up in God’s temple, proclaiming himself to be God. 2 Thessalonians 2:4

2 Timothy 1:7 For God hath not given us the spirit of fear; but of power, and of love, and of a sound mind.

Breathe slow in remembrance
When the stars came down
And time stood still
Breathe slow in
The scents of closeness
The begins again
For as long as it stands
Touch slow for the memories
To have later in remembrance
Like one long glass of wine
When we were
Just as we are
And somehow the paths got crossed
Embers to sparks
But sparks don’t become embers
So as long as that fire raged
We were in it again
And sometimes stepped out in a cool slow rain
Slow and cool
Like that
Like a deep inhale
We might not ever have again

Crying Blood

Playing fiddles
or playing golf
representatives of a represented state
of the indifferent
say what you will about love
and say what you will about hate
force those sides to take sides
and churn in their disdain
drown in the numb
and drowning in the debts to be paid
sinking in the corners
pointed fingers and all that discord
the representatives dont represent anything
anymore
just play fiddles and play golf
and someone keeps score
take notes and keeps record
at the ledger boards
don’t speak to soon
or just don’t speak at all
while tears turn to blood
and the old angers call
call for their vengeance that’s been unearthed
and somehow we are all the enemy now
while the represents don’t represent
they just play and whistle on the while
chessboards and pawns
everyone in the dark waiting on their dawn
cut my throat and watch me bleed
but neither you nor I was the enemy
in the dark days I held onto the light
but my battle never ever was
in the theater where they held the fight
look back further and
further still look
look how many times the enemies just took
playing golf or playing fiddles
painting pictures or spinning riddles
cutting throats and making symbols
and we all bleed or cry
or crying blood
I see
I saw as I gasped above the flood
playing golf, playing fiddles or playing darts
anyone will do
and anyone will
be it sword, be it famine
be it forced race wars
or be it old cold iron curtains
the house of cards getting blown
and as we scatter…hey
but the game players are already known
as they whistle and play their cards
as they feign concern
while they play their darts
as they make jokes
and play their golf
blood tears flood the sands
blood tears
while they cry for blood

Too much of too much
In a cold deliberate rush
Suffocating in the chilled
And choking in the heat
Feeling the heights
Wishing to unplug and take flight
The core despair over the pending loss
While the hands are dealt
And they distribute the cost
Mourning over really bad news
News I haven’t even heard yet
Trying to breath out
After too much gasping for air
In the onslaught
The pending
Pending
Pending
Despairs

Too much of too much
In a cold deliberate rush
Suffocating in the chilled
And choking in the heat
Feeling the heights
Wishing to unplug and take flight
The core despair over the pending loss
While the hands are dealt
And they distribute the cost
Mourning over really bad news
News I haven’t even heard yet
Trying to breath out
After too much gasping for air
In the onslaught
The pending
Pending
Pending
Despairs

What must not be named

Fears and anguish
Tensions mount
And the turning of tides
Hear the sound
Think about what can’t be said
While the sands turn red
Muffle your anxiety
While the innocence gets bled
And the elephant in the room
Takin up all your space
The evils that can’t be named
Or told or have a face
Muffle your speech
Or you might cause a riot
Talk about all the rhetoric
But don’t talk about here
While it’s here
Don’t even try it

Maybe the Broken

Maybe broken only heals
Where the cracks happened
And maybe it takes a healer
Who doesn’t know the fractures
Whatever they say
But whatever gathers
In the meanings and connections
That somehow matter
And maybe we only grow
Where we find ourselves planted
But it takes the right kind of sun
In the place where we don’t want to be
But we don’t want to run
Don’t wanna with all the running that gets run
So it’s run again
Or pull out your branches
Stretching out and make some shade
For the next one
Someone behind you
Who might get played
Because maybe broken only heals
In the same place it got broken
And standing inside the fence
It made itself
Maybe those reasoned walls
Just became it’s own hell
So she stepped outside
And though the broken whole
Can’t go back again
Knowing what she knows
Understanding once broke healed
Healed just grows
And so she grows
And stepped outside
And feeling freer than some
Or freer than most
Sometimes fractures call
Her back
Back behind the walls
And looking back or
Looking in
Healing just looks forward
and begins again
Only the broken stay hidden
Maybe broken has to heal
Where it was hurt
And maybe that kind of growth
Is what they journey was worth