Cries of sickness
-disease-despair
blow like seven winds and flow through open doors
like the dust of weary days

At times we seek such whispers as promise,
and collapse into the arms of many tongued terrors
If we rise, it is for this:
to hear the wretched cries of earth
and the reproves of the wise.
They bid us stay.

We have too often made such escapades.
The world cries blood.
To capture Bird of Paradise we would
trade our very souls,
only to find out that she is free,
and hears the empty sound of Ceaser's chains
and knows the heavy hand of God
upon us still.

Spectre

He came from below.
I heard his shuffling tread
upon the stairs
and then there was a silence
as he paused before each door
In that nursery room air;
a place where I was not...
there.

That light, that iridescent light
was of candles blown by
no wind of man or God
but was a spray of stars
turned backward
in their burning;
A glowering of Mars.

And shivering in stillness
and knowing that the
door that he had tread
upon was mine,
I fought against the
chillness and the tight
corcastation of his charm.

And stepping in without
an open door, the room
was flooded with a
scream of light; the
glow of a thousand souls
tide-up in mid-stream
flight; illuminating half-
lives of mediocrity

And I
took breath and
was smothered in the
ghostly pale of candle,
taper, lamp and torch
and none of these
-But only this scorching
beam of hell.

Alone
but for the empty
Smell of light.

The Onlookers
(For Sherie)

Tall, with grace of many stranded cornsilk
A gaze that strode skies of midwest plains as though
A stranger to the city's flattened curves and deep
vallies.

Great full hands that stirred
one's spirit in their constant task of reap and sow; and,
in their nearness they were statuesque,
immovable.

But few saw the narrow path; the harrowing
risk of harvesting free the handiwork of slaves;
and how steady the tread that threaded your steps.

Was not these hands, those eyes, full Heart;
took life from life, but the cold voice of a dread
Beast, thrashing, and the blank stares of
onlookers.

The Hangman Of The Heart

There is so much I dare not say
Pretentious
obcentric
IMPOSSIBLE words.
Whispers of the Hangman of the Heart.

Let our hearts be forever free of his
UNGRASPABLE noose

That dangles the soul's death's grip
and strangles them
In the twisted cords of
what was once love.

There is a love beyond our own
poor, knotted
attempts at binding
fate to whim;

Grasp the taughtness of rope UNTIED!
Trust my hand some lengths beyond,
thus pulling together friend with friend,
we'll see the weary way along.

I'll light yours should lights grow dim,
and you'll pull back chance I should fall;
heavy loads will ease with cheerful word.
Stealing back lives from the hangman's pull.

1) Why might Jesus have some awareness of his messianic role, yet not have a comparable awareness of his divinity?
   Jesus had a messianic understanding based on many levels of different traditions. The things that Jesus did not initiate were: the Transfiguration, the Crucifixion and the Resurrection.
   What might have been his messianic role: Jesus associated the rich and the poor are called to repent. He challenged the patriarchal society. Jesus cleansed the temple which was a symbolic act in which the corrupt system needed to be destroyed. Jesus fed 5000 people, knowing it would be seen as messianic. It was in Jesus’ actions that spoke loudly, though he made no claims. There was the messianic vision of Jesus gathering the disciples.
   Jesus did call himself the Son of Man and Son of God. However, Jesus did not call himself God. When Jesus was baptized, and the things that happened to him in the wilderness, the Mount of Transfiguration and certain sayings of Jesus alluding to visionary experiences. These were controversial experiences where one receives vivid and frequent experiences of another dimension or level of reality. This would be the level of divinity that Jesus may not have had, that comparable awareness of his divinity.  
God or the Spirit is conveyed to others. His followers saw Jesus before and after the resurrection. These types of occurrences had a profound impact on his followers. The phenomena of Jesus cannot be reduced to a psychological realm. The visionary and metaphorical report said by Jesus (Luke 10:18) “I have observed Satan fall like lightning from the sky.” We feel equipped as people of faith that certainly Satan has no place in our world. Jesus is listened to on this account. It is a triumph over darkness and it can also mean, in a brief allusion, a visionary experience as understood in Revelation.
   In any case the clear message of Jesus the messiah is given. The cleansing of the temple to drive out corruption. Satan falling like lightning from the sky. Jesus had divinity spoken in which his visions, as he had spoken, continues with the people through a growing evolutionary process. This was for all of His followers, to understand and to have us be made aware even today. His messianic role is to be carried on with everlasting life. Christological monotheism is this for Jesus: he sits at the right hand of the Father but is not the Father.
   Often I have wondered if Jesus had more ability to have a messianic presence and could not become fully aware of His own divinity. He shined radiantly in his reffulgence. Maybe He wasn’t able to see Himself, in the ways that others had seen and witnessed Him to be.

Peace

Believe that peace will come like a
midnight snow.
Tender flakes fall
till by millions they are
spread by millions they are
spread crost lawns and fields
and sidewalks and are gathered
onto shovels
into snowballs
and men and women
made of snow. Cycles of the seasons welcome
such fruits.
The tiny seeds, the spores and flakes
yield rich harvest in their time. And
Time
is all we have to make a way
for Peace...

The living world outdoes itself in beauty
winter, fall, and spring.
And so do we
Living
allow the hammers of time
to beat our hearts of stone
until they are
many gathered pieces
of one full blown splendiferous accord

Like a midnight snowfall
we awaken to a dawn
and see
the truth
is always larger than life.

Where
do the hundreds of thousands
of tortured souls
of the chickens
Living their lives
Pent up in cages
So small that their talons
Grow wrapped around
A metal dowel
and slaughtered
For KFC
Reincarnate?
Where do the millions of tortured souls
Of the pigs at the slaughterhouse
Reincarnate?

I was in the penitentiary
And it was world war three
But this war had not guns
But was a war of time
And I was left to the confines of my mind
The world disappeared around me
And there was not a sight left to see
O Mary
Why did we leave?

Avalokiteshvara
Praise be to you Avalokiteshvara
Manifestation of all compassion
Giver with infinite hands
Lover of infinite minds
Keeper of infinite truths
I beseech you
guide the hearts of man
That he may see the folly of his ways
Help him to understand others
Deeply
And giving without end
Let they who wish to slay
Slay only themselves
Let those who wish to give
Receive
Love is our law
Love under will


Tower of Babel
My head is a tower of Babel at times
What you might think if I said that
What he might say if I thought that
What I am if I like that
What she is if she thinks that
And so on
So go on
And drink me
If she dares you
Thousands of people
Sitting in the audience
Of the moving pictures
Screaming
Rape my eyeballs!
Let your sick
Hollywood
Cum
Shoot
Directly
Down
My iris
And up into my brain
Thousands of people
Transfixed by the television
With IV’s in their arms
Filled with 100%
Pure
Adulterated
Idiot box Heroine
Coursing through their veins
Screaming for more
As their blood flows thinly
Their skin
Tightening
And drying
To form a perfect
Living
Corpse
Their brains
Drying
Into
small
And shriveled
Bits of hardened coral


Temptation
Urination
Castration
Our nation
Falatiotion
blatration
Raynation
Up and around
With and without
In and also out
Creating
Your patience

I am not a Republican.

I am not a Democrat.

I am not liberal

I am not left wing, or right wing.

I am not a Socialist.

I am not an Anarchist.

I am not a Communist.

I am not a Nazi.

I am not a skinhead.

I am not a terrorist

I am not a punk rocker.

I am not a Metal head.

I am not a candy raver.

I am not a Juggalo.

I am not White,

African American,

Hispanic,

or any “Race”

I am not a hippy.

I am not a Christian.

I am not a Satanist.

I am not a Buddhist.

I am not Kemetic.

I am not Wiccan.

I am not Taoist.

I am not Jewish.

I am not pacifist.

I am not Nihilist.

I am not gay.

I am not straight.

I am not bisexual.

I am not occultist.

I am not evil.

I am not good.

I am not you.


I am human.

And I would like to be treated and looked at as such.

I am me.


Every man, woman and child on earth should have the wealth equivalency of a king
almost everyone knows it,
few could seem to care less.
Everyone seems to be quite selfish and desensitized.
I still believe we have some time to develop ourselves
and the way we look at our brothers and sisters.
Oil is the blood of our mother planet,
if someone drained the blood out of any other creature,
the same thing would occur.
Our planet does not belong to us
We are a very small part of our planet.
I believe she needs us more than ever right now
Yet at the same time she can shake us off like fleas.

Some Earthy consciousness today
The modern self appointed princes of capitalism
Looking down seeing computer chips
Of building and houses below
And the kings of the world below
In the slums
of the computer chips
Look up at the princes in the insect crawling across the sky
The age of Heru looks up at the insect above
and down at the machinated nature below
And at the princes and the kings
Through the eyes of a seagull
Pumping his wings like a man doing push ups in the parlor
And sees the ages to come of beauty
Born from the flames of despair
The phoenix rising from the ashes
Of the men and the women
Doing their work
Carefully Creating the atmosphere
To be
And the great floating ocean in the sky
Looks down upon it all
With a twinkle in it’s great eye
While conversing with the entities above
In their infinite heavenly bodies

Everything is amusing to a certain degree
Orgasmic worldly poetry
The young angel says
That those who oppose war
Are creating war by creating opposition
She says say yes only to yes
But to know not a no
When saying yes to a know
A - K N O W
A - N O
Jesus the Christ was a nigger too
A man apart from other men
Who said know to no
Who made change
yet unintentionally worsened the strain
As did Heru
In the land of Kemet
Hear me young star, child of angels
There is a place in this world for no
To cause understanding
There is a place for conflict within the peace
There is conflict that can bring peace
But it is not from the blade of the great sword of Anubis
It is from the blade of a ballpoint pen
And it is the energy that causes the heart to cry out

A Punk show
The punk rock group comes to the stage
and blares there views through electric eyes
The crowd takes out their pent up aggressions and excess energies
Through the vein of the sounds
And crashing into one another
In the pit of flowing energy   

Everything is art
From trees to computers
Everything is art
The act of love
And loving another
Is an art
Hammering a nail
Into wood
Is an art
Building a mansion
Is an art
Television shows
Are an art
Talking
Is an art
Existing
Is an art
Dying
Is an art
Driving is an art
Emotion
Is art
Helping others
Is an art
Helping yourself is an art
Teaching is an art
Learning is an art
Dressing is an art
Raising children is an art
Water is art
Sky is art
Thinking
Theorizing
Philosophy
All are arts.

Thank you God for art!


I believe that the less we teach our children
The more of the worlds positive
And negative nature
They absorb
And then, they don’t always
know
How to translate that knowledge
Into words or actions
Without the lessons that they should have
To guide them
To their truest nature
So they become frustrated
And begin to harm one another
Or fill themselves up until they cannot
function
We need public education
To be a guiding spirit
For the children of tomorrow
So that our world can be a better place to live
Help us you who are in power
So that your children will have a place to live
Help them ye who guide the masses
For you are among those who will future
Save our world
By sharing the wealth that every man woman and child on our planet
Was born into this world to receive
Looking upon others and viewing
The concept of a lesser intellect
Is a mis-interpretation
A mis understanding
Not a fact, but an opinion
Doomed by god to fail

I’d like to explain for my personal record
That the things I express in poems are a way of getting a load off of my mind
They are opinions
And by no means am I attempting to infringe upon anyone else’s beliefs
I hereby state for the record that
I try my damndest to respect your beliefs
No matter how similar of different they may or may not be from my own
We hold these truths to be self evident
That all men are created equal
By god
And my opinions are formed by others
Who believe similarly
I admit it,
I am not unique in this modern world
Although like everyone else I try my best to believe I am
And in one way, we all are unique
Due to the fact that we all are
separate entities in this one entity
I believe we have much more in common
With ways of being
Than we think we do
We like to look at the extremities our differences
Or the extremities of our similarities
And devise notions about each other
Due to them
But I think it’s about time
We
Chill out

Everybody
Has something to learn from his or her neighbor
As everyone
Has something to teach
To his or her neighbor
I believe
And personally
I’m going to try my darndest
To learn what I can
About people surrounding me
And then step back
To learn more about myself
And how to be a better person
To people around me.
I’ve got a lot to learn!

Sometimes I feel like Forrest Gump
I’m not the most intelligent person in the world
On the contrary
Most people have picked up a lot of things in their lives
That I have not yet developed
Yet I see so many influential things and people
in my life so far
And for this I am grateful
I think we all feel like Forest Gump
at some point in our lives
Because we all have that experience
Of meeting influential people
Or witnessing influential things
Which in some way
Liberates us to be influential to a degree.

The way we live our lives is poetry
We write it as we go along for the ride
Love
Interests
Thrills
Experience
Learning
And loving
And leaving for somewhere else
When we’ve had our fill
I can’t wait to write my next poem!

I’d rather live the life of a poor man
Than that of a rich man
Not that I have anything against the rich,
I just find that the flavor of life is more enjoyable
When it is lived focused on living
Rather than earning
And gaining
But money has a place in the world
As does wealth
And I’m thankful for what I’ve got
Giving to others
Is a form of wealth
As is sharing
So I’m going to work on sharing what I can
And maybe I’ll have the luck of benefiting others in the process
I’m not saying I’m not selfish,
On the contrary, doing things for the benefit of others
On a personal level
Is the way to gain personal benefits
I believe
So I’ll do the little I can,
And allow others to do likewise
And if I become wealthy in the process,
Oh well.

Life is like a ride
It goes up and down
And during my age
We young adults
Enjoy boosting our ride
With exitement and thrills
Whenever possible
With concerts
And parties
With road trips
And newfound memories
So I’ll give in my ticket,
And take the ride
But when I mature,
I’d like to even the tide
And slowly work back into the slide
So that the attitude of the ride
Is not as bumpy on the other side

Drug induced
Existentialism and fear is what got me into the
Psychological mess I’m in now,
And Existentialism and Reason
Is going to have to get me out of it
I remind myself among other things
that the workings
Of the universe are too profound
For there to be an evil underlying conspiracy
That runs things,
People run things
And there are all kinds of people
I believe that the conspiracy theorists
Whom I used to read
Were merely looking at the similarities
Of different groups of people with similar
Ideals
 In the world
And got carried away with notions derived from synchronicity

For more of my poetry, please visit http://blogs.myspace.com/mandolinpanicle

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