Access to God

The drug dealer politician is already dead
he pulls his own head off to look around
he can't see the bleeding stump that is his neck
He deals everywhere even at the church where his family pray

He loves to talk about god
The only thing he knows of god is the feeling of power he has in his own heart
When he bribes cops or has his cronies shoot at rivals
Holding his own severed head above his shoulders he says he knows god

His religious family blind themselves sensually as planned
as he parades through his own house, severed head in his hands
they pray before meals and ask for god's blessing as they sign a pact
with a lowly demon from the mainland who runs crack

The island only has a few disgruntled citizens whose loyalty isn´t sold
They want to leave even as the drug dealing politician offers them golden blindfolds
and seats at his special church where people get better access to a God who knows
His head screams from above the bloody neck, neck veins pumping blood out like a volcanoe
Like gasoline pouring down from the monopoly´s franchises or whisky out of the comatosed alcoholic's mouth
A million dollar crucifix can´t heal you now

Empress of creation, and the glutton of expectation

The kingdom is being built
all is magnetized by working hands
a storm is forming to water the fertile lands
and to lay waste to gluttony

The four necessities are painted on my heart
the ones that affirm creation on earth's hard surface
and the path to heaven after I have triumphed
or failed to shape earth and form alliances

The eternal apprentice gets ready
Wielding a hammer and the four necessities
Beyond good intentions led astray
Give God's hand ink I pray

To sign a covenant to the road we pave
and to remind us daily of the four necessities
God give our clean hearts to the priestess
and our minds to the negotiation table

Hold the empress' hand afore the white rose
balance the tides and tsunamis of her temper
So the imminent destruction doesn't render
everything we built to rubble and cinder

The child

Never swallowed the affirmation of being naiive
Or some obligatory slight of hand was the only way to achieve
What happens, what lights up the dark
Eyes open and so many things are revealed

The gullible child that wishes the world was honest
idealistic and unrealistic
Hoping and praying that his path won´t be corrupted
the child learns what kind of beast it is

Where these rivers join

Where these eyes have met each other
From different colored faces
Where these mouths have kissed each other
love behind lips so gracious

Where this love was born
 A curious extended glance
Not knowing we would have sworn
To wedlock our hopeful hearts

And there flows our dreams and passions
down two rivers that meet
Our love is no longer rationed
abundant and complete

Where these rivers join is where our hands clasp
Where our life goals intertwine
and where destiny gasped
as sober fate did us combine

The elixir of life is our union

Fire thrill

Oh how the audience of angels and demons awe at your panic
Racing toward the exits, fire crawling along like a one year old baby
The smoke rises like the steam from moist warm morning pastures
Like naiive souls rising from lifeless forms

New beginnings as the guard smashes the glass to switch the alarm on
The noise is a standing ovation from the audience of angels and demons
who had their two weeks leave extended by god almighty and the devil frightening
Their clapping is feet running sprinting and hobbling toward the stairs and elevators

Smoke filled building creeks of fire flooding into the corridors
Upstairs the fire stares at the roof jumps over legs that stampede this way and that
The main doors open up at ground level the building empties like a trough being kicked
yet no water will be spilled over that inferno and the angels will go home before halftime

Where were the heavenly fire engines to arrive to save the trapped
Why were the cherubs not admitted and imps allowed to laugh on evil laps
Some frustrated angels tried to get a discount at the ticket office
alas the clerk was a purgatory atheist and thought they were impersonating

The cinammon

The tree is slow
The spice of the forest floor
The shy
The scent through the leaves

Arriving to the nose
Aroma has burst
quiet forest floor
A piece of the world that speaks to the mouth

The humid lift
full of chronic flavour
summer tinges in
the palate and the smell

The flux(heraclitis constant)

That same water
You got out from swimming down stream with it
short cool thrill
Jump out grab your things chase that water down

You´ve got to dive once again
 before that water spills into the salt mass
Find that patch of that same water
is it dirtier is it discoloured has it, by god, changed?

Up to your knees
over your head
profound slow flowing depths
Those ripples caused by panic will fade into the water never seen, recorded nowhere

Down the rapids the seconds, hours and days
the hissing as relaxing as watching the sands empty from the hourglass
The white water slowly cutting away at the rock and the margins
The trench as changing as the water itself and dreams like flashfloods changing the world