Author Information
Creationisim
The lucid lunatic
is a giant awake.
irate.
Stumbling over Prozac,
progressing thoughtfully
on Thorazine.
The voice booms
too soon.
Simplistic syllables
to shake the concrete
from my wounded walls.
Peering between the leaves
I see,
his book mountain
his masterpiece,
his earth in 6 days.
And my stream of liquid fear,
blurs his hardened edge.
Until the cataclysm
of a blink,
sends my diffusion falling,
too soon.
A river down my cheeks.
Hardened edges
in forced focus,
show the master of
my creation,
playing God today.
And my skin
crawls,
to cover his naked Eve
before the stench,
of original sin.
His
good daughter,
his medicine.
My father
madman reveals,
in sudden decency
his crooked teeth to me.
A smile forced to words,
adam finally speaks,
to Eve.
And I am left to wonder
if a human lies still
in his rotted mind.
This ugly thought that lets
hope take it’s hungry hold.
Yet, always, I know
the mountain
will fall.
Too soon.
