Inconceivable Saint

Exhausted and worn out and spent,
An angel of the highest Lord was sent,
One more miracle,
Left to perform,
So his halo,
Could continue to glow.

He slowly walked along,
Dragging ass,
While his mind sung a song,
Paying no attention really,
By the way,
His name was Beautiful,
And so he was……….really.

Inside and out,
A deliverer sent from above,
To bring faith and hope and love,
Was what he was truly about.

God spelled backwards,
He was man’s best friend,
That’s why he was just perfect,
For his master’s latest project.

The Messiah’s expectations,
Were seven wondrous happenings per day,
Fixing frustrations,
And making generous donations,
When they were done,
He would make meticulous notations.

It happened that today,
This angel was looking to perform his last sensation,
In order to stay worthy,
Of his current station,
Under the Holy Master.

So with that his mind was occupied,
But even so,
Soon he smelled some greasy goodness,
And saw a sign,
Saying that to eat something fried,
One only had to walk on inside.

This may not seem,
Like a likely way,
To find something,
That needs a miracle,
But he did,
He found the someone,
He was intended to,
And they looked downright pitiful.

When he eyed the bar,
We can all relate,
To what that unlikely messenger saw,
Hunched over a plate.

Tattered and torn,
And the tears in the eyes,
Made the person appear forlorn,
So the dog ran up,
And got between the person,
And their cup.

Sitting on the chair,
Beside the one going through,
A living nightmare,
He woofed and wagged,
Until their shoulders,
No longer sagged.

Soon they started to talk,
Pouring out their woes,
And though this was an angel,
Who could not speak,
It healed their heart,
So they could forge a new start.

Before leaving,
He was offered for reward,
A mouthwatering meal,
And when he finally cleared out,
From God he got,
The day’s final seal.

Mission accomplished!
Thought he with satisfaction,
Now he’d corrected a deep sorrow,
And would be permitted,
To work miracles on Earth again tomorrow.

Solo Confidence

The little boat,
Drifts along,
In its heart,
Beats a psycho song,
Full of anger,
Full of angst,
Mad then sad,
It goes far beyond bad.

The song appears,
To come and go,
Caused by whatever weather,
Has determined,
The river’s flow,
But from the banks,
We never know,
To what extent,
It’s taken its toll.

Look it over closely,
Before taking the little boat,
Out for a drive,
Look every day,
In case a storm showed up,
And riled its waters,
While you were elsewhere,
And it needs a repair.

You can’t know for sure,
At only a glance,
So why take the chance?
From where you’re at,
There’s no telling,
If winds were blowing,
Making holes that aren’t showing,
But will be made known,
After you’ve taken it,
Away from its home.

You must remember,
The storm has no friends,
It tosses every boat,
In its path,
And some are made,
To resist its wrath,
But some just can’t withstand,
A strong storm’s demands.

Though it’s controversial,
Technically,
Boats are optional,
And it’s more than acceptable,
To let that boat,
Be for someone else to float.

Though the river is mandatory,
How one navigates it,
Is their own little story,
A boat is escapable,
If you’re capable.

All Cut Up

Intensely felt,
Gashed down deep,
But unable to bleed,
Caused by a thing,
It feels like from which,
There’s no being freed.

It’s immense,
Needing stitches,
Though it won’t be sewn shut,
The best of soothing salves,
Can’t begin to mend the halves.

Weighted down,
By something not seen just felt,
Nearing now to the bottom,
Not quite but almost drowned.

Invisible,
But so powerful,
Easy to forget it isn’t obvious,
Since it’s gathered you such an audience.

Uncomfortable,
As a broken bone,
It assures,
You never feel at home,
Though you know it’s just in your mind,
And indeed,
You’re in reality just fine.

It seems fake,
Compared with headaches or toothaches,
You’ll be told to suck it up,
And made to feel like a fuck-up.

All too common,
Because society is rotten,
Sick in the head,
Is what will be said,
An insult,
That will make you see red.

Never talking of emotions,
Always leads up to explosion,
Tragic though,
That you must choose between,
Being wrecked,
Or causing some bullshit commotion.

What A Terrible, Terrible Man!

Maurice Michaels,
Is he cursed,
Or is it patterns and cycles?

Maurice Michaels,
Any lady,
Who’s tried that man,
Has turned tail and ran.

Maurice Michaels,
King of all psychos,
Calls cute sweethearts,
Little hoes.

Maurice Michaels,
Denies the King of Kings,
Meanwhile,
He’s got absolutely nothing.

Maurice Michaels,
Likes to stare,
At the pretty lady,
Who for him,
Will never care.

Maurice Michaels,
Sickeningly shady,
And with a personality,
Straight from hell.

Maurice Michaels,
Lacks self esteem,
What he wants,
Will never make it,
Past a dream.

Maurice Michaels,
Without willpower,
Picks on others,
Can’t do shit for himself,
So studies habits,
And makes fun of another’s.

Maurice Michaels,
A big round belly,
The rest of him well balanced,
He looks so silly.

Maurice Michaels,
Never was one more rude,
And just so happens,
He’s also a prude.

Maurice Michaels,
Has a heart of stone,
All he does,
Is piss and moan.

Maurice Michaels,
Always willing,
To lend an ear,
To someone wanting,
To laugh and sneer.

Maurice Michaels,
Sends out bad vibes,
They mirror,
Where his heart resides.

Maurice Michaels,
Is one fucked up guy,
Never has one,
Told more lies.

Maurice Michaels,
Doesn’t know how to have fun,
He may as well be done.

Maurice Michaels,
Is spiritually blind,
To the devil,
His soul has been signed.

Maurice Michaels,
A first class jerk,
Not worth the work.

Oh No You Don’t!

“But if you did that,
You’d be missing out,
On all the magic,
And that,
My dear,
Would be so tragic”.

This is what the one,
Said to the other,
When he said of the world ,
He was tired,
And rather than living,
He’d like to choose now,
To meet his maker.

“You see the world,
Is full of enchanting things,
And surrounding us,
Are so many supernatural happenings”.

“They’re hiding in plain sight,
Obvious but not,
But when you learn what to look for,
You’ll be surprised,
There’s quite a lot”.

Here the one,
Stopped and eyed the other,
Watching him scan his surroundings,
On the sly,
For some of these happenings.

From her angle,
She could see,
The sport hunting man,
Positioned in the tree,
And the girl around the corner,
Good Book splayed open,
On bended knee.

The bad and the good,
Right out in the wide open,
But it’s all impossible to see,
When your eyes are blind,
To the mysteries.

When the other’s eyes,
Stopped their surveying,
The one carried on:
“It’s not mythical,
Actually,
It’s quite typical,
A part of every day life”,
And here she shrugged casually.

“Now there are two types,
And both are cause for hype,
One’s more than okay,
But the other’s not good,
And with it you should never play”.

Here the one stated,
What to us in the know,
Is already crystal clear,
But to the other,
And all else who are blind,
This will boggle the mind.

“Things you read,
Called fantasies,
Aren’t that at all,
They’re real mysteries,
That happen often,
At Angel’s and Demon’s calls”.

“Then they write them down,
Knowing they’ll get passed around,
And whether frowned upon,
Or wrote off as bullshit,
This makes sure that many,
Don’t believe any of it,
So then for the side that’s damned,
There’ll be ever so many”.

Here the other,
Interrupted the one,
“You mean”,
Said he,
In a voice like he found this funny,
“That the spirit world,
And the veil,
Aren’t just tales”?

“Exactly so”,
The one replied,
“It’s total truth,
That the worlds collide,
And here with us,
Invisible beings reside”.

“Just where did you,
Get your information,
Telling you there are creations,
Beyond our wildest imaginations”?

“Another world exists,
In which the ones called misfits,
Hold front and center stage,
I’m sorry if you don’t want to hear it,
But there is indeed,
A world of spirits”.

“And it can be found,
Most anywhere,
But it’s only seen,
Through faith that’s sound”.

Here the other interjected,
“How is this possible?
Am I to believe,
That even perfect eyesight,
In this case can deceive”?

“That though I see,
Nothing obstructing my view,
Even then,
Something else is here,
With me and you”?

“Oh yes!
That’s just what I mean”!
Answered the one,
To the other,
“But if your heart’s in the right place,
You can most times feel,
When they’re invading your space”.

The other seemed on the edge,
Of whether to believe,
What the one alleged,
The one could see this plainly,
Though the other tried,
To hide it vainly.

“Well”, told the one,
To the other,
“Now you’ve something,
To think about,
I hope you’ll change your mind,
Rather than take yourself out,
When right at your prime”.

**********

There’s always something,
Worthy of your sticking around,
But if you never look,
It won’t ever get found.

There’s more out there,
Than a naked eye can see,
When you think,
You’ve seen it all,
Shut your eyes,
And see with your soul,
The realm beyond,
Human understanding and control.

**********

A Note From Above

Dated: The Beginning Of Time (AD)

To: My Children

Maybe not what you want,
But what you need,
Will you accept the gift this time?
I pray you heed.

Other opportunities,
May seem like something,
That you’d much rather,
But in the end,
If you go with another option,
You’ll wish it was by my hands,
Your story had been penned.

Something or someone,
Is always knocking,
Some should be kept,
The rest told to keep on walking.

It seemed meant to be,
Sewn up so fast,
Until it exploded,
With a powerful blast.

It turned destructive and deadly,
Provided by,
The wrong authority,
Instead of me.

Wake up!
Wake up!
I see every second,
The whole play-by-play,
That’s leading you astray,
As I hover close by,
Waiting on you,
To open your eyes.

It’s right under your nose,
Being handed to you,
On a silver platter,
But it’s not what you had in mind,
So to it you are blind,
Not what you wanted,
So by it you’re daunted.

It’s in your way,
Like a stumbling block,
But only because,
You’re hard-headed like a rock.

Time’s ticking away,
On your mental clock,
You see just one road,
And it’s making your shoulders,
Carry an unnecessary load.

Receive what’s right,
In front of your face,
Stop shoving it away,
Because in the end,
You’re the one who always pays.

And the price every time is hefty,
You sometimes feel guilty,
Or dumb or embarrassed,
I suppose such is the way,
When the area is so gray.

You wish it could be,
More black and white,
And cause much less,
Of an inner fight,
But the war is real,
So just remember,
My saved sinner,
No matter which you choose,
Only one’s the winner.

Each time you lose,
Is like a blessing,
Accidentally refused,
Seek wisdom before,
Making a choice,
If you elect to listen,
I’ve a very loud voice.

Signed With Love,
The Lord God Almighty