Broken Faith

With flaming pen The beast inside me scratches to remove, Fingers pulsing with my heartbeat growing What will prove To quit and quiet or sparkle softly, In the distant night. What would it prove to cater to Such shallowness as one’s delight. When beasts burst forth exploring every pore. Scattered scallions Relinquish the air to moan. Even the box Is outside the box At Heaven’s gate deluxe; To remove the pitied eye and stand forth naked. I do hate, I am human, After all. Who was it again that witnessed the fall? Well, we all sag weary against the ropes When each rose uncoiled clings, The jaded blackbird sings, and Pie-in-the-sky magpies flap their useless wings. Look in the mirror at the naked scourge behind you. Listen to the pounding of the drums of your doom. There isn’t any room. Not the slightest wiggling inch Of breath or sound or excluded pinch; When we shout Holy Hell, Holy Haunted Hell, After all. The messenger in all of us That wakens a sleeping sickness of liquid pus, Of bruised and startled semen-egg to mark its choice. Heavenly Father where the hell is your voice? Aloud, Aloud, After all. Meekness protruding from some dark and brooding Corner of misunderstanding. Comes the Death; Comes the Light; Comes the Commanding Voice. Return once more to the core of all confusion. Take back the shelter and reign in the smelter Of Christ’s own blend of defiance. Be in Death or Life or Hell On Faith be our reliance. And in the end of all, after alls, We find yet another broken appliance.