Saturday, June 27, 2020


Here I am, lost inside of an hourglass.
I feel so sick, and I have no clue what the doctor just prescribed for me.
I vomited all over the floor, I even slipped and fell in it. I’m sick, I don’t know what I’m going to do. I somehow keep falling into the same pit, but for some reason after I let it all out, I feel much better now. I’m glade someone from the hospital cleaned up my mess. I’m now lying here in a hospital bed watching the hours tick away. I’ve failed again and no one wants to save me. I’m so lost, but I swear I know the way. I got myself into a scuffle that seems impossible to win. My choices will now decide my fate. Am I an angel, kicked out of the kingdom? Does the data of scientists show that my odds of winning are slim? I don’t remember who it was that brought my kids up here to see me but it was great. My son called me dad. At sunrise I promise I’ll get this right, only I can do this, I just have to take it one day at a time. I’ll count the days of my progress and win this fight. I would love to tell you what I’m struggling with but you might judge me. I know I need help, but there’s a voice in my head telling me that I’m on my own. I must travel the path less taken.

Wednesday, June 10, 2020

The World is yours in Art

Fly, by drawing yourself with birds.
Sing and feel your words have meaning.
Art is your display, it’s how “ You” see the world.
Don’t be afraid of your work.
Show your love or hate with strokes of markers.
Feel free to write your thoughts down, someone may yearn to feel your expressions.
Dance with emphasis.
Move with feelings.
There is much more too see in a painting than just the strokes of a brush.
Pick-up your camera and snap a picture.
Use a video camera to make a movie.
The world is yours in one word: “Art.”

Monday, June 8, 2020


Take my hand, let me show you the outer depths of time, the dark spaces in the universe that you don’t see. Warning: My story contains content from the outer limits, it can be frightening.
It started with one man’s journey from congress to his death. He voted, “yes,” to extend government programs to take care of his district. There was a pastor in his district that collected every members’ government issued checks, including the congressman. They all took their government issued money and bought an island with a huge mountain on it. The pastor promised his flock of sheep utopia, heaven and earth. He took them up to the top of the mountain and convinced them to all jump. He said they had to be released from their worldly vessels to rid the world of it’s fear of death. I was in my helicopter at the time when I noticed 144,000 people jumping to their death off of the mountain. I couldn’t believe what I’d been seeing. One of his members had been holding a sign that read: Death is everyone’s destiny. She then pulled out a gun and shot the pastor and then herself in the head. I flew closer and noticed a pool of blood dripping from the mountain along with a pile of dead bloody bodies. They all killed each other and themselves. I was shocked. Realizing that my camera had caught the entire incident on tape, I later submitted it to a local news station. How in the world did this happen? How powerful was this pastor’s message to have his entire mega church kill themselves? Just when I thought the story was over, people started seeing lights on top of the bloody mountain. Sparks of lightning flashing almost every week after the event, some even said they spotted UFOs. I had to check it out, so I got in my helicopter and the force of the mountain sucked me in. I crashed to my death and woke up in the church with the pastor and his sheep at the altar. Realizing his message, I couldn’t move. In the distance I saw everyone welcoming me to join hands with them. I took their hands and we all began to speak a different language, our souls were united. My thoughts were transformed, I was dead only to be reborn. The pastor then held up his hands and pointed to a distant planet that looked like earth. He said we now have to be reborn again on earth through the belly of other members to save more people and populate our new home to reach the gates of heaven. He convinced me, I’d become a believer. We all were reborn in the womb of random women only to see ourselves on top of the same bloody mountain with new members, nothing could stop the cycle. Nothing living on earth could escape death. We just kept dying until we all reached heaven.
Death is inevitable, it’s an eternal cycle that never ends. It’s like a generator that’s fueled by life.
The End...
The Beginning...

Saturday, June 6, 2020


The birds singing...
The children playing...
It’s quiet...
Everyone is reading a book...
Life is fairer this way...
It’s peace.

Monday, June 1, 2020

Warning: The craziest religious poem ever

A pharaoh with a million gods having children that call themselves gods.
Queens giving birth to naked goddesses direct on dial up, upside down, left to right, oil and whip cream.
This is a direct conversation it may not be all that it seems;
Not everything good is green.
Artist paintings of white and black gods, the money ran out, beg and fall to your knees,
kneel before them for your blessings, jump for joy like flees.
For who is the fool who reads between the lines, for you never read the holy book that many claim is divine.
It tells stories that go from generation to generation, virgins and prophets, ten percent donations. There’s more, don’t give up and don’t turn away, better yet fall on you knees kneel down and pray. Everyone crying their guts out to catch you caught in your sins, let’s all act innocent while criminals wash us with blood and gin.
Suffer to die drinking and smoking your way to perfect peace, liberal judges orphans released. Conservative host fighting with Indians, and cowboys too, somebody save us children raised by the heathen crew.
I hope this wisdom doesn’t have you shook.
Crazy demons being cast out like a fish on a hook.
Careless kings with bloody eyes, laying with woman that feel they have all power to kill ghetto poor babies.
I warned you this religious poem was crazy.
Come with me through the underworld, reborn in the belly,
Don’t reach for me to heal you kiss my sandals, real smelly.
I rise from the womb to see pictures of former Egyptian slaves’ bodies hanging from trees in many different ways.
I cried a thousand tears it was just a phase.
Innocent blood torched and glazed.
Save us father for we have sinned, cloths hand washed down with gin.
Defiled religious kingdoms that kill rebellious women who yearn for freedom.
The smell of rotten flesh left running from genocide to meet them.
Hungry babies searching for food, lazy no good people acting so rude.
Archangel wings battling with the devil.
Stretched from one room corner to the next.
Oh, how do we stay level?
Rain dances to predict the weather.
Blasphemy as priest lie with little children having sex.
Oh god, please prepare us for what we’re about to see next.
If god speaks through us, why do we call each other names?
Our souls have been tarnished, burning in flames.
Pharaohs and dictators, rivers of blood, humans running to hide, is the end really near?
The jinn and holy saints fighting in a sphere.
Peace as we partake in rituals of darkness and light, are there any miracles in sight?
Colors of rainbows floating from above.
Kneel, debate, rule and speak with might.
There’s power in freedom so put up a fight.
Look deeply in someone’s eyes and you might become weak.
Seeing angels surrounding fighting for thoughts to speak,
Praising while snakes bite at our tunics for days.
Women devouring men’s thoughts to choose in so many ways.
For which one will carry their seed?
Conversations of lust, making men kill with ease.
Who is strong enough to fight for her love?
Beware of this wisdom it grips like a glove.
Floating and buzzing, stinging like a bee.
For if you made it this far you stand like a tree.
You’re like a blind man, feeling his way up a noble ladder, only to fall on his face and watch his eyes splatter.
I just told the craziest religious poem ever, now let’s bow our heads and pray together:
Dear father, as they crucify me for you using me to speak your peace, my soul floats directly into the light to be released.
I let go of my thoughts, my flesh has nothing more to fight.
I look down and watch the world fade from black to white.
Another crazy religious poem in the books.
To prove that all things deserve two looks.
Amen, Amon and Amun.
Thank you, I take a bow and the next poet takes the microphone.
I hear someone in the crowd say, “Damn, that was the craziest religious poem ever.”
The End.