Shebook Poem #5
A Tale To Make You Come Alive

This is a time for crazy poetry
Sound rasping, aural torture
Head clamped in a vise, ears pierced
Shocks and locks clanging, horror shrieking
No one comes until you don't expect
Him anymore and look he knows the score
He's grated on your nerves and
Feasted on your hearing
As he feasted on your eyes
And swallowed you with lies
He is the opposite of love

Beware of making it mean everything
Every meaning is a rule that
Wallages creation with concrete and glue
Gravity magnetism addiction
Are nothing but afflictions of
Denied desire
    I am on fire I am on fire
    I am an instrument in your hands
    Be careful how you play me
    And I'll give you all I've got
    When the Savior comes, who is
    He going to save?
    You or the rest of the world?

If you think he's going to save you
    By annihilating your enemies
    Think again.
He's been there, done that, he'll pass
    This time
And if you think he'll come in form
    Of man, what then?
No the savior is a spider spinning
    Webs none can deny
And her hunger is a gravity
    And we are flies
She wraps us in her arms and
    Sucks the juices from our breast
    Then she takes us back into Her flesh
    Enfolds us keeps us safe
    Transforms us in her grace
And births us in another place
    As child of God light on our face
    And if we're willing our bodies
    Don't even have to die

This crazy poet knows it doesn't
Have to hurt to fly
And she's still there filling faces
So her bones don't have to crumble
Don't you listen to her mumble
For she'll speak a truth so long unspoken
And break a vow that's ne'er been broken
And you mght overhear a tale to make
You come alive
Do you think you can survive the
Purge that's taking place at home
Do you know who you've become
Have you any other way to be than
Lost and broken as a child untended
Taken to the woods and abandoned

Listen to the sky
It has a trillion traces of the lives
We did not survive.

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