I once met an atheist
You know I never saw her smile
She relented and I had time
So we talked and walked for awhile
The world and its actions were against her
How can dreary perceptions be through beautiful eyes
Her hope was in the money maybe fame
A house of cards built on why's
To my amazement she offered up an open mind
And as we neared our conversions end
I asked if she might consider some advice
she said yes, so I introduced her to my friend
His name was Jesus Christ
In the Garden of Gesimine He bled
Burdens of the world's sins upon His back
Died, ressurrected so we might live again
the shadow doesn't entirely make sense
watching you change from mr superstar to a fly
the bait and switch of oldest tricks
four winds to ride on
heartbroken i will try
to catch you in the rye
Building blocks to talk about
intuition of sickness
the obsession with dirt
becoming the one disguised
take you inside
we eventually might have to see eye to eye
the cold heart of mankinds good intentions
fisher twins
exposing your syndicate
in the gutter
should i stay
and leave you blind
should i go
nevermind
ressurrected lie of what you did
brick by brick
slander the poet
Oh my father my weeping father
There is this promise l make today
It might just make you smile
Your dark eyes may even shine with pride
Your labour will not be in vain
My success will take away your pain
Your wounds will be healed by your tears of joy
And your deceased heart will be ressurrected by faith
My father someday failure will flee with shame
Laughter will be heard from above
Unbury your head from the sand
And weep no more my king
SeasonThe sex skull anybody?
the spine hey
flesh on the bones of sex
the ribs hey
the arms baby
the legs of sex
the sex hands
the feet hey anybody?
hey The skeleton now baby
hey Where do now these poems
hey the poems of sex bones of metaphors go?
where do these sex poems die?
where is the sex grave baby, anybody?
hey for the skeletal remains winding
of the dead that still linger from beyond, anybody?
The skull baby
hey the spine Now
the ribs now, anybody?
Season the arms
the sex legs
hey Flesh on the bones
the sex hands
the feet baby hey
the sex fingers winding
the toes hey, anybody
the wicked sex skeleton
sex bones Now winding
where doet these poems without flesh go
where do these poems wander?
where season is their wicked resting place?
how do they ressurrected be?
name skeletal remains
Flesh on the bones winding
chasing a wicked soul
of the life its living
to be born again baby
anybody
wicked the bones winding
the hollow Now
wicked shallow
Now pitiful baby
today bones winding
wicked masquerading
as bones of metaphor
today of a poem winding
The skull
the spine
the ribs
the arms
the legs
the hands
the feet
The skeleton
Where do these poems
the poems of bones of metaphors go?
where do thes poems die?
where is the grave
for the skeletal remains
of the dead that still linger from beyond
The skull
the spine
the ribs
the arms
the legs
the hands
the feet
the fingers
the toes
the skeleton
bones
where doet these poems without flesh go
where do these poems wander?
where is their resting place?
how do they ressurrected be?
skeletal remains
chasing a soul
of the life its living
to be born again
the bones
the hoolow
shallow
pitiful
bones
masquerading
as bones of metaphor
of a poem
BORNE
Borne twice to be ressurrected only once.
Eye am a victum of society.
A causualty of the war on poverty.
I was born once of a woman and then
again by a dead man.
Eye can not explain the place that I am in.
It is not the cradle or the grave.
The only way I can behave is to be
alone again.But wait?
Living without love has changed me from
what I am become.
I need love again to be an actual man.
A song that I sung in the desert one day
is the melody that play in me.
An Angel of mercey SHE calls to me.
I here Parme.
EYE can hear ewe my parme.
Borne again.Me.For Ewe.My Parme.
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