Cry with the wolves,

And watch the devils play,

With advantageous eyes,

On the souls of men.

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The New Eve


Tell me this. If you could, would you stop Eve from eating the apple?

Would you prevent the fall from grace? Would you save humanity?

Would you preserve the immortality of man? Tell me now, would you?


Let us keep going. Now, would you stop the bondage of the Hebrew people?

Would you stand behind the Pharaoh or Moses himself?


Oh, but we mustn't stop now! Would you tell King David not to watch her bathe?

Would you tell Solomon of his apostacy? Or would you simply watch as the kingdom fell?


A final test. Would you stop the betrayal? Yes, would you tell Judas "don't do it"?

Would you deny Him three times? 

Would you yourself stop the passion?


For me, the answer is clear. No. 

God is not naive, he had always known Eve would fall and he had always known what must be done.

If just one was stopped the dominos would fall.

I would not stop the salvation. But I will sit with the New Eve at the foot of the passion and I too will weep.




Author's Notes/Comments: 

I myself am not very religion in anyway nor am I claiming to be, this is simply my interpritation of the chronology of some biblical events and their relation to the fall from grace



Even the Seraphim did not hearken to your call.

But I did. I knew from the moment you came in with those beautiful saphires of eyes.

I knew, that you had a cryptic heart. A heart gaurded by the most fiendish of men.

With your soccer ball rush and declension of nouns. Oh, i knew.

I saw right through the facade you called "lust". Or perhaps it was a bloodlust?

Nevertheless I had seen you in the dark, swaying left and right.

With her freckles and all. Asynchronus hearts. 

In your white button down shirt, stained with the blood of Saint Sebastian.

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Thin Sound

My life’s far from shambles, yet no solace is found,

My passions and my dreams are pummeled to the ground.

The person I am, is not, and the confusion abounds,

I am still waiting to hear that ‘thin still sound’.

With each new attempt, a new failure is born,

Where I strive for greatness, I am met with scorn.

Why try once more, to become so forlorn?

Why try to listen to the ‘redemptive horn’?

To believe is to lay, lifes questions to rest,

To question is to accede, to Satan’s behest,

To think, ponder, or yearn we have assumed is the best,

But if you take it too far, you have failed the test.

And this test you’ve failed, is not merely a grade,

It is your definition, it is of what your soul is made.

You have entered the game, and your life you can’t trade,

But in this game you will wish, you never had played.

So go on, my dear friend, continue the show,

Rehearse your lines, and get ready to go,

Go through the motions, ‘Perfect, just so’,

Continue the play, as if you don’t know.

This will buy you some time, to ignore your pain,

To quiet the noise, that has conquered your brain,

In this fight there is no glory, only disdain,

With that I will leave you, with one more refrain.

Time is a’tickin, the clock won’t stand still,

Your choices are limited, you won’t have your fill.

So take what you have, as you climb up the hill,

When you get there, just listen for that sound so ‘still’.

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Dying Religions

These fairytales of life we buy like shattered bits of humble pie,
They convolute and twist our minds far into a world where the true dream is denied,
We hold them high above what's real,
The wheel of life and what we feel gets wasted
In the dream beyond the chasms we create...far from love, and it's chasteness.
The dream is now, the only one, the stories we weaved,
Withered and dying in the gutters of the fold,
The time arrives for every man to unravel his mess within,
And let go the fairytales of old,

...allow this future to unfold.


7:59 PM 4/20/2013 ©

Author's Notes/Comments: 

Transformations and new worlds come to be only through the acknowledgements of many hands joined. Religions are not working in the world because the focus has not been on the religion, but on the power the religions can have. Just a poem.

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Mr. President

-Incomplete. Sample Purposes Only.-


Black residents in the White House – thank you, Mr. President -- but that succession doesn’t eliminate the presence of a present problem of the past and future. We’re still faced with oppression, beaten and battered to depression, maybe not physically but emotionally and mentally.


Black heroes are fictional characters, televised to keep us hypnotized; our eyes are mesmerized by the lie of their lives. We don’t talk about our low self esteem but it is taken advantage of – used to lead us to believe the dream we need that diamond-bling, we’re above the rim if we have 24-inch rims with the blinding gleam. So few of us care about how we’re seen or state of being, yet are the first to complain when being racial profiled – well take a look at the profile! 

Religions and Beliefs: Similarities and Differences

There are many lands throughout many oceans,
Many people throughout many lands,
And many beliefs throughout many people.
We humans say that beliefs bring war,
They bring evil and disorder,
But is this not the belief that binds us all together?
There are many who wish not of wisdom or knowledge,
But those who do, have already found favor
With those who rule from above.
There are legends, myths, of gods and warriors,
Heroes, saviors, and messiahs,
From different lands, from different beliefs,
Who all deliver the same message:

There was a beginning, there will be an end,
There is salvation, there is damnation,
There is peace, there is war,
There is good, there is evil,
And in the end, evil will prevail,
But righteous mortals will aid in the fight against it
Until the end, in which there is no escape, has passed.
There is promise of a new beginning after the end,
Where peace prevails and there is no more pain.

There is a god who knows all,
Who sees all, who rules all,
And he has a son, who rules under him.
Along with other gods and goddesses (depending upon belief)
They rule over the earth, where mortals rule.
There is an evil god, evil spirits, and many other evils,
But remaining righteous keeps us mortals from these,
So that we may be with the ones who are above us when we die,
And fight beside them as the end passes by.

They say that we are different from each other
Just based upon our beliefs,
But I say that this is wrong, for we, we humans,
Do not forget that we are humans!
We are brought together as brothers and sisters
In the same belief that there will be an end,
And fighting against the evils that it brings
Binds us together as one, as we were meant to be.
Meant to be men and women ruled by the heavens,
Farmers and caretakers of the earth,
To defend the good against evil, and to one day,
Be with those made us and are above us.

True Father

Words and commands for death fill the air
With blood being splattered everywhere
He calls himself the Father, but no love does he bring
When I look around all there is, is pain, horror and suffering

Many follow under his ugly name
But little know of his full game
They think they spread the messages of love
But little do they know the evil from above

Their leader is all powerful, but does no good
Their leader is everywhere, but might as well wear a hood
Their leader is all loving, but kills
What poor fated men should suffer from these ills

I have one true father, but it is not he
For mine I am born from, he is part of my family
He is not all powerful, but my hero none the less
He is one of many things, I don't not want this evil god to bless.

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The note, of a Sufi

The note, of a Sufi

Not taking sides
I believe in this, I don’t believe in that
Not caught in the game
Of saying this is true, that is not

Not blaming others
For the problems of the world
Putting words into the mouth of God
Idolizing others for what they’ve done
Or who they thought themselves to be

Not criticizing people for their faith
Nor those who go against it
I just watch, with presence
With love, of all that surrounds

Not hating others for what they think
Nor what they cling to
Just flowing with the breeze
Of smiles, and the ever-present joy
Of life

Not letting scriptures of the past
Paint my view of God
Nor claiming any human, the ones who
Breathed, and saw, like us, to be my prophet, my messenger

All I am, is a fool, in love
With this dream, this flow of moments
Not fearing God, by the words
Of the past, of others, but instead
Loving him, remembering him,
As the being, that hovers throughout
The unknown