Jesus The Sequel

What if...

one day
in the history of your life
the skies parted
and the Lord poked
his omnipresent head through
the clouds and proclaimed
for all the scared sheep to know
that YOU were the Chosen One Part II

What would you do?

How to handle this upgrade?

I'm not sure 
of the exact job description
but MESSIAH as a title
surely has a lot of perks

Comps wherever you go

Preferred parking
for your white limo

I wonder if celibacy
is still a required necessity
like it was
with the first edition dude
who got nailed to a cross centuries ago?

One would think this time around
such hardship restrictions would be lifted
given the all the modern day temptations 

Verification of your true divinity
would be no problem in our tech age
given all us pilgrims have cameras
to post messiah miracles daily

Social media would explode

You'd surely be trending perpetually

All the gossip rags
would be working round the clock
dredging up all your buried skeletons
that occurred before your heavenly promotion  

Doubters would be forever 
looking for he hidden wires
determined to prove you a fraud and liar

Not to mention
incurring the skeptical wrath
of conspiracy theorists
who are eternally belief challenged

So would you accept
this complicated savior position
or stay the course
on your current civilian path
and leave the saving of souls
to the professionals ?

The Age of Entitlement

Cookie jar

sits on the counter

beyond the reach
of the hungry child

who strains
to achieve
instant gratification
that defines
the Now Generation

Patience rapidly
replaced by frustration
as sweet dreams
go unfulfilled
(an early taste of adulthood)

Most will scream
and cry for Mommy
who of course
will give their baby
what they need
if only to shut them up
so they can get back
to their secret
online romance

The special toddler few
will learn to use their heads
and find a way
to overcome the denial obstacle
with a chair

They will also find
satisfaction is multiplied
when you achieve the goal yourself
instead of having it handed to you

Esteem Weavers

Examine the mirror
that reflects before you

Explore those surface imperfections
and forgive them all

These visual insecurities
our plastic society obsesses on
and modern advertising 
harshly dictates culturally

Land mines strewn about
in the artificial fields
of this cosmetic prison
should never cast shadows
over your shining star

For ultimately
the image projects
you are only as beautiful
as you believe you are

Sticks and Stones Rap

I've never cared
about the nasty things
people say behind my back
or my front
for that matter

My self esteem
is self sustaining

and can never be damaged

or diminished
by the numerous dick heads
who pollute my existence
with their petty bullshit

By the way
the only assessments I value
are rendered by those
I love and respect
which happens to be
an exclusive and minuscule universe
of a select few

Faith and Evidence

Seeing is believing
here in this skeptical age..

Proof positive is required
before commitment is made..

Can't sell a concept sight unseen..

Google now a prerequisite of belief..

So how to wow the disciples of today?   

Seems all the good miracles
were used up in antiquity..

Well before the age
of modern communications..

There's no analytic way
to verify biblical feats that defy belief..

No one today can quantify
how the Miracle Man
changed water to wine..

Cured the sickly..

Even beat death..

For you see..

Miracle Man had a plan
to wow the masses
so they would buy in
and listen to his far out speeches 

Peace and love...

Faith in that dream
straight to the heart
of God and man

Centuries later
this is why
the J Man is still a star..

Not for the stunts
forever unproven
but for the message
of hope conveyed..

This is his greatest miracle
that still resonates 
in these jaded times

Head Ache

On an isolated
corner of Passion Street
my lips probe the source
of my raging desire

Hands sliding and caressing
seeking to find her button
waiting for that joyous moan

the arch of the back

slight buckling of the knees

anything 
that gives me the sign to proceed

If I move too fast
and prematurely unleash
my raging beast
she will surely recoil
and cast me into
the blue ball pit
where all prior
frustrated Lotharios are consigned 

Failed cast offs
classified as shallow guys
who only sought
to penetrate her
luscious thighs

Which of course
is an accurate assessment
of ALL members
of my perpetually in heat gender

So I had to spend hours
plying her with 
inhibition reducing drinks

Enduring her feminine
up and down
pop culture blabber

All to arrive at this
do or die moment
on the cusp of blissful completion 

She directs this passion play

Gives me a naughty smile
and fiddles with her bra snap
that cries out for release

So is it coming off
or staying on?

Are we done with 
this fucking foreplay???

God I hope she's not
another Satanic tease
insidiously designed to torment
me and my in heat breed
and drive us all
to the hooker side of town

Respect Time

Why can we not see

life as a recurring theme?

Always racing to catch flickering shadows Unseen but always there Treadmill souls on a long trek to nowhere oblivious to glorious periphery spread out everywhere but not viewed as vital enough to merit precious attention

As we ratchet up the speed
  
So intent on selfish conquests

The folly of false triumphs
that while they may
inflate our egocentric bottom line
ring hollow eventually 

As the tick tock symphony
which started out ever so faintly
reverberating in our ears
as our constant companion
was mere background noise
during the early go go years

A secondary percussion player   
providing a soothing beat

Then much to our surprise
we find ourselves gone
beyond the point half way
as Time,
now a deafening
growling storm 
becomes the hunter
and we the wounded prey

The tale always ends the same 
with minor variations to the story

TIME CONQUERS ALL

TIME ALWAYS WINS

So do as the old poetic cliche says:

Gather ye rosebuds while ye may   

Suppressed Evidence

Well dressed
well connected peacocks
obliviously 
step over and around
the tattered retread people
who fight to survive
on the crumbs that fall
between the cracks
of our cold city

Those with means
look down
on those tattered ghosts
with a disgusting touch
of condescending smugness 

Never wanting to see
the empty faces of poverty

Cops are called
to sweep the riff raff  out
under the guise of public safety
lest the tourists stay away

but in reality 

they come to bury
our safety net hypocrisy
and hide society's shame

One Trick Me

I am different

Always have been

Even as a child
I only ate the bread crust

Had no desire
to be part of the herd

Popular fads of the day
held zero sway

Grew into a man
and still lived
off to the side

Guess I’ve never possessed
the fit in gene
required of a well adjusted
social being

So I am committed
(some would say condemned)
to walk the path
of a loner’s life

My solo destiny
here in solitary
to always be
outside the mainstream

As the world goes on without me  

Hung Out to Dry

Deep within this blaring intersection
hangs a man from a blood drenched cross

Looking forlornly down
on the pilgrims below 
as they scurry madly to and fro

What was once
a tourist curiosity show
now a trivia question nobody knows

Part of the 24/7 scenery unseen

Melded into the mosaic of a society lost

Just another annoying city obstacle
we step over and around

As we mutter about urban clutter 

The high cost of this existence
and all the attached consequence 

So nobody bothers to take the time
to see humanity's greatest crime

Not one soul will be found
to help this wounded soul down 

A slice of 21st Century selfishness

The new Original Sin

Keep the Faith

Believe it or not

I walked on water
back in the day

when I was an acclaimed
bonafide miracle man

Just one of my many exploits

celebrated far and wide

as proof positive

of the power of faith

and infinite possibilities

Maybe you have heard

of my legend

passed down through generations

increasingly desperate

for any kind of inspiration 

Of course

that was way before

science advised me

and my congregation
that my very existence
was a quantified impossibility

So the world plunged
into it's current abyss
of negative secular reality

Begetting a grim restless population
chafing at their assigned

slotted limitations

But no matter
how the skeptics

and naysayers
have chosen to dismiss me

I reside in the collective souls

of those who won't be opinion bullied

Far beyond the rigid controls

of empirical thought tyranny

They know what I used to be

and more importantly

all that I stood for

Impossible as it may seem today

Those who dare remember 
know my improbable truth 
before I was consigned
to the status of foolish myth

Faith is an equation

that can't be erased

The Cloud Minders

I do so envy
your cloud dwelling existence

Embracing all that loose
leisure time
the cerebral life affords

Soaking up the fine arts

Contemplating philosophy 

Sipping your lattes
at the Ethereal Cafe 

Tis no wonder

you float above
us mud dwelling types
who are forever destined to be
mired
in the desperate reality
your society ignores

Looking down

with the puffy bewilderment
only the out of touch share

So how's the fucking weather up there?

Beans In The Sky

The tattered prince scrounges about
in the shadows of his former glory

seeking to recover
treasure from the trash

Cause you never know
what bargains you will discover

Beneath the vile pile he finds
a shiny slipper of glass

Peddles it on his E-Bay account

cause you never know
what folks will pay
for relics of the past

Connects with a lonely hearts type
who wires him a few cyber bucks
to seal the transaction

Takes the spoils
of his golden windfall
to the local dream dealer
who slips the freshly minted capitalist
a bag of magic beans to plant

His high growth investment
sprouts all the way
to the clouds and beyond

Now he aspires to be
a rich organic merchant

But the prince’s profits
quickly go up in smoke

When the EPA storms in
and shuts him down

Confiscating his little fairy tale fantasy

For it seems these days
you need
a license to harvest dreams

Wither Satan

Post apocalypse
clean up crew
sifting through
the ruins of Hell

Reclamation angels find
beneath the toppled
neon Pandemonium sign
the charred remains
of a very dead Satan

His ambitious expansion plans
repelled by God’s army again

The Evil Empire
blown to Hell and back
and the Devil’s diabolical dream
of universal domination
now as over as he

Kicking Out The Plug

We rose and exploded
as the neon lights
flashed a curtain call
for us all

Last song played
a melody of memories
as the bulldozers moved in

Glitter dome shattered
and the funky structure fell
on the stragglers
with nowhere better to go

Our grand dance floor now buried
under a million grains of stardust
a few actually tried to snort

Old habits die hard

All surviving disciples fled
the scene of the demise

Disco was dead

It was time
for us children
to leave the party womb
and grow up

No Room At the Inn

KEEP OUT

Screams the sign
on the big ugly wall
we built
to restrain
the displaced unfortunates 
who desire to breathe
freedoms air
that we no longer care
to share

Those desperate refugees
knocking at our door
seeking asylum
from horrific war
yearning to be free
in the land of liberty
like our forefathers before
when they fled poverty
and oppression

If they came today
they would be turned away
as scary aliens
looking to crash
the locked down USA

Labor of Love ?

Deep inside
this snow globe swirl
intrepid Cupid rides again

Legendary hunter
of boys and girls

Now unleashed 
on his annual
Valentine's quest

Bravely battling the elements

Struggling to do 
his job with frozen wings
and greatly compromised visibility

Hazardous duty for
our hearty cherub

Cursing under his
frozen breath
about those romance scribes
always waxing poetic
about love finding a way 

So easy for them to say!

Snug in their warm cafe
philosophical bunkers

Oblivious to brave Cupid
winging through the storm

Bringing much needed passion
to the jaded masses

Doing the hard job
he's forever been assigned to do

So if you see him
slogging through the snow
show the
little Valentine warrior
some much appreciated love 

Sacred Predators

My God is WAY better
than your God

My prayers stream
on the only channel
that is received

My ancient book
is the ABSOLUTE truth

Your cult is pure subversive
with words that pervert
and offend the one true Lord
who rides shotgun with me

Our spiritual preeminence
can not
and WILL NOT be debated

So convert or get annihilated

You dangerous heathens
with your weird fake theology
and sacrilegious ways
must be destroyed

My God told me so
and as everyone knows

My God is way better
than yours

Going To Corrosion

I take my poison on the rocks
with just a dash of bitters

I love that feeling
of inner corrosion
that only 
cleansing acid can bring

Dispassionately dissolving
all the accumulated crud 
clogging up my pores

The flaw of course
comes when the sludge is gone
and the liberating solution
commences to eat away at my core  

until what was good within is no more

Just another case study
where the cure 
is worse than the disease

Doubt Shadows

All the blurry people
live oblivious to the fuzziness
in their open ended residence
outside the narrow minded spectrum
of black and white existence

Choking on an atmosphere
of unrestrained philosophy
where clarity is a rarity
for multi layered thinkers
condemned to a creative life
removed from the rigid box

Burdened with depth are they
in this free flowing dimension 
where truth is always questioned
and the rule of universal authority
of any benevolent deity
is challenged daily

When they start feeling lonely
about this intellectual existence
they convene at the nearest ostentatious cafe
armed with their pet theories
to debate endlessly the meaning of life

On one thing the blurry people do agree

The absolute reality of their superiority
as they mock and belittle the box residents
with a condescending smugness
that is nothing more than a smokescreen
for a deeply rooted longing and envy
they have for a world of thought simplicity

A safe haven of serenity
that celebrates the peace of mind
unwavering faith brings

A comforting trade off
for the burdens excess thought

  
    

Funeral Party

Today
we put on our
best somber threads
and lay to rest
another player dead
from team humanity

The Pious Man of God
choreographs
the closing show
even though
he did not know
our stiff friend
who had not set
foot in a church
since his wedding day

We snicker at the irony

His grieving widow
dressed in death black
leads the boo hoo brigade
showing affections
she displayed rarely 
for hubby in life

We snicker at the irony

The middle aged kids
who hadn't
spoken to 
dearly departed Dad
in years
struggle to spout 
proper funeral cliches
in all the morbid
chit chat

"At least he's at peace now"

We snicker at the irony

The farewell caravan
runs red lights
all the way to the cemetery

The death mob gathers round
the perfectly shaped
final resting place hole

One last chance 
for the women to sob
and the men to pretend
they have their tear ducts under control

We the assembled know
the terrifying
terribly
threatening truth
staring back
from the coffin
is a reminder
that
one day
the hole
and the 
preceding hypocrisies 
will be for us

Think I'll get
my sorry carcass cremated
and my ashes scattered
all over my grieving asshole enemies
so they can collectively gag on their hypocrisy

The Top Shelfers

Apostles of greed
ravenously taking

more than they need

Consuming without apology
with all the condescending arrogance
of modern day royalty 

Praying at the alter of Darwin
with smug superiority
and pompous feelings
of God given entitlement

Wealth inherited down

and passed on
through the gilded generations

Modern robber barons

who assume collectively
the top of the economic class
is where they are destined to stay  

Cause at the end of the day
they know they own the game

For today anyway...

Because we know

if history teaches us anything

is that eventually

the oppressed fed up majority

will reach

an abused victim tipping point

and the power pyramid

gets flipped

It's just a question of when...

War Crime$

Throughout our bloody history
soldiers have died
in many uniforms
and guises

Not for a flag
or any particular
political ideology

They did not perish
for you or me
their countries
or even their families

They gave their lives
cause they were
ordered to do so
under penalty
of treason

by old men of means
who pulled all the strings
from corporate castles
well behind the lines

Spoon fed
all the clever slogans

Selling fear
and patriotic zeal

Dehumanize
and demonize the enemy

Who in turn does the same
to herd up all the warrior sheep
for battle conflict slaughter

Bloody fodder for the history books

Battle lines bolster the bottom lines

Wars end with grand parades

Speeches made to honor the dead
as the back room boys count their profits
and plot to invest
in the next needless war

No It All Creatures

See the smug face
of arrogant man

Your current dominant species
prancing about the planet
with his shiny tech toys

We think we have it all figured out
with our magical science advancements 
and best selling philosophies

When in reality
the sum accumulation
of knowledge
lodged in our underutilized brains
is just a speck
of microchip dust
on the universal data base

Our pretentious crew

ain't nothing more

than chattering monkeys

jumping up and down with glee

when our shit

we throw at the wall

actually sticks

Bouquet of Inconsistencies

The high court of public opinion
finds me publicly charged
with the crime of indecent hypocrisy

I offer up the defense
that we all have moments
when our reactive actions
run contrary to previous pious proclamations

That person we imagine we are
gets jarred, then blurred
beyond human recognition
by the realities of harsh circumstance

Leaving us guilty hypocrites
with egg on our faces
as we are led away in handcuffs
for a long stint in repercussion prison

Vulture Club

I ask myself occasionally
as I babble on internally

and incessantly
like an introspective psycho
why humor has become
such a difficult concept to grasp
in this easily outraged society
where so many get offended
by people they don't even know

Perhaps their righteous indignation
is but a lame deflection show
to mask their own insecurities?

A desperate plea for attention
and communal cyber moral validation
from other lonely distressed souls
trapped in similar repressed situations?

Or maybe they are just bitter 
hopelessly jaded uptight asses?

I don't know
but these "gotcha" vultures
really gotta go

for they do offend

my comedy sensibilities 

Beasts In The Mirror

Right off the assembly line
we were all products of our times

Unfortunately our model has now been discredited
by flaws today condemned as defective

Maybe what we are can never be totally fixed
and perhaps we are lacking in modern efficiencies

No point trying to defend what use to be

It only comes off as lame rationalizations
but if you do choose to study history
in the rigid box of modern sensibilities
you'll never grasp the third dimension to these events
if you don't take the time to apply proper past context

Of Morons and Men

Back in the day
as we dinosaurs like to say

Men were men
women knew their place
and gays were still in the closet

Twas a macho 
testosterone driven utopia
of stoic heroes
who viewed emotions as weakness
(Unless of course it was a fist planted in the kisser)

Looking back through the prism
of objective historical analysis 
we really gotta admit
these repressed assholes were full of shit

and a constant source of embarrassment

to the male gender

Social Tremors

Cannibal crawl tonight
on the crumbling boulevard

Legions of street creatures
suckling like neon parasites
on a carnivore binge 

Shadowy residents
of soul less asphalt canyons
never exposed to sunlight

These vampires of city nights
viciously prey on each other
while suburban squires
spectate this nightly feeding frenzy
on their 60 inch flat screens
as they reinforce
their security moats
and pray the underworld
stays beneath their feet

Maybe someday
those with nothing
but shared desperation
will organize
and channel
their frustrations
into a break out force
demanding economic parity

A movement to forever slash
the divide and suppress
social control net
that has kept the undesirables typecast
as victim fodder for the evening news

Club Humanity

Let us concede
that hatred had a really big year

Riding a seemingly endless
winning streak
fueled by mutual fear
and a sense of dread
that by next news cycle
any one of us could end up dead

Constant retaliations
leave us seeking isolation
behind walls of false insulation

Treating the symptoms
without curing the disease
simply delays
the body's demise

If we are to survive
we gotta realize
we are one species

one humanity
sharing the same planet
for a limited time

No one country

No one ideology

No one theology

No one person

is better than the next

Peace will only come
to this troubled blue speck
when mutual respect
and global equality
begin trending