across the festival of grasses
I ran through the view of various booth and attraction
run by locals and those aged faction
along those sneaky foreigners with imprinted aliases
rolling my bike seemed to bother
with their necks closing in
leaning towards my upward chin
read as arrogance, instead as an evader
invader of their land
shattering their drinking glass
yet still manage to outclass humans
by using what's left of their decaying hand
it's pretty in my mind
thinking—I'll just pay a visit
not knowing my limit
until I arrived.
Tide brings a sad story
Tale of hope and fury
Taciturn taxi driver gives a laugh
Task amend a rogue cop
Teacher-officer teach a plebe
Tear a heart turn to grave
Text a crying mother for a help
Tame a bully child to a sheep.
What have been sayin’
It's only Saturday
Thinking in cliches is itself a cliche
Father in the kitchen
Eats his check away
Thinking in cliches is itself a cliche
Don’t you shake and shiver
When the hounds of order bey?
Thinking in cliches is itself a cliche
God is dead, or in Toms River –
Any dumb excuse to pray
Thinking in cliches is itself a cliche
Island people don't get ready
Wherever there's tsunami
They wait until that drawback gets all flushed
But back to your studies
Back to Bloom's Taxonomy
And the camouflage of sophomore girls’ first blush
It’s cartridge, pump and filter
It’s the dose in the ashtray
Thinking in cliches is itself a cliche
All the post-its in your Rilke
Will not my respect sway
Thinking in cliches is itself a cliche
Thinking in cliches is itself a cliche
Your hopeless, guileless, wretched pact of clay
The family-brand is over –
Say whatever you want but not “gay”
Thinking in cliches is itself a cliche
Thinking in cliches is itself a cliche
The gods must be crazy to create such bad logic,
To validate suffering, pain and distress, they tick,
To allow their existence, ‘cos that’s what logic’s for,
Logic defines the systems and structures which soar.
They must be mad to claim bad weather, all year,
Intervention only points to their responsibility here,
Natural phenomena stands proud with autonomy,
In independence they have expression in taxonomy.
And those car accidents! Ah, how folks claim them,
As god’s doing, for the victim’s edification, ahem;
Joni Eareckson Tada thinks her diving accident divine,
And happened for a godly reason, for her to consign!
Christians are sour to equate a healthy man with god,
Rather than a woman who’s disabled and LBQT, odd,
Because worship should elevate up only when it should,
As it offsets a prejudice, imbalance or personality mood.
Or even a coloured person as god would be far better,
Than a white male that so permeates art and literature,
‘Cos the subliminal has such a strong, pervasive effect,
That some gods today should be dismissed as a defect.
The ignominy of buying and
selling
Is disgustingly despicable
The church of God
Has lost its taste
Its flavour diminished
The worldly purview
Is warming its way into the
church
Money is the order of the day
The taxonomy has to change
So as not to bring the name of
God
Into disrepute....
The drawing board we must
go
Checkmating ourselves...so
this excesses will not condemn
us
By not giving to ceasar what
belongs to ceasar
In Gods presence
You reverence Him in its
entirety
Not hiding under the backdrop
Of christian resource materials
being sold
Let's change and digress from
this sinful way
Before change changes us
God, simply knowing you,
And that you are God alone,
Is better than many rings,
From my earthly friend's phone.
God your love is strong. It can
Be felt from Detroit to Rome,
All in one simple grand tone.
I know that you will never,
Leave me alone and I can ,
Always call You whether,
Or not I truly live the life,
That's true. That is just,
That unconditional love,
That resides in You. I
Must say to You today, God,
Knowing you is far better,
Than knowing how to solve,
Derivatives, because you,
Can solve all problems.
Knowing You is far better,
Than knowing gross anatomy,
Of all of the species because,
You are the Creator,
Of all taxonomy. There,
Are so many things that,
Are less better than knowing,
You, but I'll have to close,
In saying knowing You is,
Far better than all of my ,
Dreams coming true.
1-5-11
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