120722
08:55 I'm a whore
I'm
a whore for words & logic; here for the use and abuse of anyone
with the fare to rent me by hour, day or lifetime.
What
I'm about to say is horrific even to me. For your freedom I'd do or
say anything not because God said so but look closely at the fine
print in your contract issued at birth: This Magical eventually Adult
Amusement Park Fantasy Tour; look for the clause that details death &
Free Will . . . the hard part in small print is the details.
Everything
we think do or consume has consequent cause and effect rippling
outward into infinity; even sticking your head up your ass in terror
awaiting the nightmare this hell we live in to disappear. We are all
donuts you see as defined by Quantum Physics what goes in either end
hopefully maybe always will come out. God has no hands no mouth no
arms no feet is sexy but in an asexual way only we get to practice
making babies for our pleasure. Do you think the Holy One cares
sticky sheets or keyboards? Get a life and live it dying in the grace
of love and forgiveness including yourself on the laundry list. God
is not an idol nor was Jesus, Buddha and so on etc. Bobble heads to
glow in the dark on the dashboard of your conveyance or convenience
whether a fuelish Sports Utility Behemoth covered in the skin of good
Islamic or Christian children bad enough for Nazi cars but in your
case its brain's, blood, vomit eternal miladies unimaginable no hands
flippers instead holes in their heads drilled by your neighbor who
doesn't like your definition of God.
When
we create lovingly anything of all the possible directions we can go.
Think not of art or who will pay the highest price but the peace and
tranquility of sewing a patch on your child's dungarees or
transforming raw food into nourishment or making a child or merely
touching another as friend in peace and love.
I
am not a nice person whatever that vacuous word – nice --
means to you. I am not even nice to myself and I know nice for what
it is and is not.
In
a profound sense I fling my first born into the midnight well hearing
no splash. Looking downward by the aid of a full moon I don't even
see the bubbles of my child downing, just still placid water
mirroring my silhouette . . . you know writing a journal is self
vivisection . . . and in horror not only for my son and two daughters
gone but that brief moment when I told my Great Mother Mamalu laying
in a hospital bed I thought dying attributable to a failed pace maker
– needing a battery – that I'd become Episcopalian too Catholic
by half judging by what she'd said during our lifetime before. She
was pleased?!?! When I got over being overwhelmed I asked what her
favorite Bible phrase was: Gospel of John 3:16 “God gave his only
begotten son . . . ”
.
. . for what crime did he die that we should enjoin continual murder
to prove what?
More
___________________ name it, claim it, for what are you willing to
live and and die for?
Good,
Better, Best works only for merchants of death.
Previous
or last lunch with M; time that precious and willing to accept at our
or any age the preciousness of time. I'd confessed a desire to make
love with a woman once before I die . . . not looking for candidates
-- just a statement of truth . . . she said; “Yes that's good.”
If
I could be for anyone or other or all what she is now to me given all
the love we make in public over plastic tables . . . I'd remain
celibate.
Love
is what we give not what we take and of such love did Jesus die.
Let
it be that such love lives in thee. Neither God nor I do revisions of
history but ask and be forgiven and redeemed. . . it is love's truth
Slang
cuss swear rap hip hop all poetry too or as well who knew Maya
Angelou thinks William Shakespeare was a black woman 2 I adore them
both James Baldwin why I write.
©
2012 by Jack Spratt All Rights Reserved
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