Attention’s running to an end
and I am wondering if any of them
were ever living to begin with.
Intentions tend to be at odds
between my brain and me.
My God, me and my family
still don’t see eye to eye,
but we still try to be kind.
Tired of turning nice evenings into
a battle of ideologies.
Take the truth to the streets,
take the church to the streets,
let them see what it means
to be set free.
Lay my head down at night,
still can’t sleep right,
still see I’m still not living clean.
Never call cause I know
I’m not quite ready to go,
drew a line in the air,
it’s drawing close.
Open another seal
your servant’s standing at attention.

To whom it may concern,

If your ideology was as just as you think it is, why would it need to have that sophisticated mechanism for transmuting the sentence, “please stop, you’re hurting me. I’m a real person too, don’t you see?” into the worst possible kind of abuse; one which must be met with immediate, righteous retaliation?

The sun is shining so bright
we all avert our eyes
cause we are creatures of the night
we sleep by daylight.
If there was nothing to see
we’d see nothing.
We’ve got to be hiding from something.

Oh come, oh come, Immanuel
your children need you to feed them.
While you delay on my account
I hear them crying.
Oh come, oh come, Immanuel
this isn’t freedom.
It’s just my self indulgent game.

If you show
your strength in my weakness
then I must be
your perfect weapon.

Oh, you bring
me strength through your weakness
Stitch closed my conscience
bleeding and broken.

Oh come, oh come Immanuel in the night.
And wake my up before you arrive.

Can you even imagine the feeling of pride that must rise with the scent
and scatter on the wind through the hive mind,
when the order goes out so that everyone bites at the right time,
through a mind segmented like ant’s eyes,
when ants eat an anteater’s corpse?

Sometimes inaction is a thousand times more powerful than action.
A thousand times more difficult,
A thousand times more honest,
A thousand times more human.

Sometimes silence says a thousand times more than speech.
A thousand times more gentle,
A thousand times more fragile,
A thousand times more complete.

I love you more than words can ever say
I love you in a way that only silence says.

I don’t even try to deny the things that satan says to me,
don’t claim to be better than that.

I don’t identify with meaningless feelings that come and go randomly,
thoughts that rise to the surface like cream,
no matter how many times you beat your mind together
they rise up all the same, till they puff up white and swollen,
till they run over into your lap.

I don’t make my mind into a beautiful place anymore,
don’t participate in the war for my intentions. I don’t intend to use them anymore.
It’s a hoarder’s attic, my bedroom floor, neglected, like an addict’s stolen life.
When another dirty rag is added to a towering heap,
this merits no attention from me.
The deplorable state of my addled mind bores me.

But I hope you see that I don’t lie
when I say I
find my hope in you.
I don’t lie when I take communion, and come to you and
ask, not to use you, but to sow your sacraments into my soul
and reap some greater union with you.

Give me feelings that are not meaningless, if it is your will,
as I decide to be less faithless.
Make my mind into a beautiful place again, and restore my intentions.
You are my help. Amen.

I believe that you will do these things
I only hope that I’ll believe they’re blessings when they come.

A black bird singing on a black line
a broken back that begs to be set straight
a silent night of sin and niceness
nestled happily,
in bed, happy.
A black bird nesting on a telephone pole
tells his poor mother not to call
again, he’s doing fine. He’ll be alright.
Can’t even see him this black night,
this black bird, in this weak light,
can’t see right.
On this cracked streetlight can’t see right;
but somehow he’ll see his way home tonight.
Downbeat blackbird’s beaten down, but doesn’t dare to be
silent. Won’t stoop down to where he found
fortunes buried beneath the dirt,
won’t swoop down through the air
to the ground.
Silly bird sings noise songs.
Flutter through the air, fool bird
and land upon the ground.