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Hero Worship

The air is thin
And the landing narrow,
Up, on the dizzying heights,
Where we set our heroes.

There, gusty winds
Neither hold brief
Nor relief
As they threaten to
Humble all things that elevate themselves.

When like prayers
We've offered flattery
On altars of unrealistic expectations
And our heroes, like golden calves,
Glisten with pride,
Know this,
There surely is a reckoning
When they come tumbling down.

We were the mob at the foot of the mountain
Elevating them in adulation

We are the mob at the foot of the mountain
Now shouting
CRUCIFY HIM, CRUCIFY HIM, CRUCIFY HIM




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That's how we are made.
Somewhere, There's a conveyor belt Constantly chucking out Boys, with pent-up toxic emotions, Shoulders hunched under the weight of society's expectations.
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A brother died today,

Finding God

The inexplicable
Is proof there's a God.

This, for me,
Is where doubt began.
For if we know today
More than we did yesterday
Then, God is
a constantly contracting chamber of ignorance.

Now if it is so
And God is the Lord of gaps
Then men of religion
May be forgiven
For their unrelenting battle
Against knowledge;
The God killer.

But if God is
the beginning of wisdom
And his people perish
For lack of knowledge
And if we know today
More than we did yesterday

Then it stands to reason
That the God to believe in
Is an ever expanding explosion of knowledge.

I have no faith
In the God of gaps
For God must be Omniscient
And ignorance is not
This, for me, is where doubt ends.

*****April 22, 2017*****


Priorities of Early Birds

It is not because
Mother Hen did not see the sun rise
That she chose to
Begin the day in silence

But there are things to do,
Chicks to feed,
Fat worms, waiting, to be eaten,
Rice, from yesterday's supper,
spilled by messy children
That hasn't been swept yet;
Unwanted suitors to run from.

It is the Cock who gets excited
About mundane certainties,
Like the sun.
It will rise again, tomorrow.

Mother Hen
Can not be bothered
About the sun,
which can not be eaten,
When she knows not
If, come break of dawn,
messy children will spill rice, again.

*****June 25, 2017*****