The sins of religion,

religion of sin

holding God hostage,

a prisoner within

 

An Almighty weapon,

inflicting great pain

heaven in bondage,

redemption in chains

 

The politics of religion,

its dogma a curse

with guilt as the wellspring,

all heretics thirst

 

Angels conscripted

the devil awaits,

for those who would question

—with hell as their fate

 

(Dreamsleep: April, 2022)

Writing,

 the only suture…

when truth starts to bleed

 

(Villanova Pennsylvania: March, 2017)

Trapped inside a wasteland,

dying inch by inch

 

Slave inside a rusted heart,

feelings chained then lynched

 

Later now than yesterday,

earlier than goodbye

 

Spooled like thread that can’t be sewn,

the needle asking why

 

But time contorts, reversing,

trumpets call you home

 

Eyes unspoken, voice untouched,

senses all atoned

 

Words on fire with freedom stirred,

reasons scorched and bare

 

A silence brewing louder,

new light burns through the air

 

Eleven Angels fly as one,

and twelfth, you join their throng

 

With wings now soaring inward

—time’s grip left dead and gone

 

(Airplane To Seattle: March 8, 2017)

 

 

 

Prayer without indemnity,

prejudice, or blame,

weaponizing Diety…

a dogma-based refrain

 

Through Him our Divinity

rejoining heart and mind,

to truly know Who reigns supreme

last sacrament defined

 

Religion like the training wheels

discarded when we we’re young,

to free the rider in the wind

—His spokes forever spun

 

(Easter Dreamsleep: April, 2022)

Gentle as a razor,

her words cutting deep

Robbing tomorrow

of yesterday’s sleep

Her voice rising sharply

to greet the new pain

A bleeding Madonna

—in strawberry rain

 

(Dreamsleep: April, 2022)

Is democracy sinking

into feral autocracy

The billionaire elites

with all the control

 

Politicians but puppets

where rich pull the strings

The rest of us lost

in deception and whim

 

(Dreamsleep: April, 2022)

Wishing in colors

Painting the wind

Singing a fragrance

Sculpting within

 

Tasting a memory

Touching a dream

Hearing the moment

Feelings redeemed

 

(Ronald McDonald House: April, 2022)

The part you transform

is that part you possess

The rest is pure folly

—petals scattered to the wind

 

(Dreamsleep: April, 2022)

More connected

by dollars than faith

the poor attend the

 Universal Church of Poverty

 

Christian or Jew

Hindu or Muslim

the altar when barren

—leaves God undeclared

 

(Villanova Pennsylvania: April, 2022)

Write,

like you don’t need the money

Sing,

like you’ll never be heard

Live,

like the moment is ending

Love,

like a baby’s first word

 

(Dreamsleep: April 2022)