Searching for the Good Guy

” Again I tell you, it is easier for a camel to pass through the eye of a needle than for a rich man to enter the kingdom of God.” There are the barren dreams, That are empty of the type of ammo, That you need to break down, Lucifer’s lairs, those men and women…

God’s Face

I look at old Renaissance pictures To see god, a white man, with a beard And strong eyes, as I picture how I  Saw God’s face. I saw him like a man, So weary, that his eyes were dropping out of the eye sockets, and the mouth, was whispering Something that we humans didn’t want…

Techno

I see strangers practice the innate art Of minding their own business, With a Samsung Galaxy tab or an Apple I book, or a plain Old mobile phone that seems like A little Tamagotchi. Still in this day and age Unlike the forgotten past times of electronic pets, One is on the verge of life…

Sin

In that wonderfully strange Disfigurement, of creases on a bedsheet Folds on flesh, interfaces of lace, You find Mea culpa; the silk of sin Caressing like a vibrant saree Draping her fall.

Suicide

We say walk the walk, none of us do. We are scared of the very thing in us that defines Who we are, and perhaps who we are not. Or maybe what we are yet to experience, Like the trauma that could sink to where you haven’t been. The depths of the abyss. The secret…

Rehymenation – A Prayer

The confessional Is like a rehymenation ward Where putrid sin is vanquished To the renewal of Aurora’s dawn Which eventually (with time) heats up To scorching Ra and at the strike of noon Clothes come off, when the glare Is as blinding as the awoken bliss Quaking out from the epicenter And that fault seemingly…

A Note About Catholicism

Being a catholic in this day and age can be a tricky thing, especially when you are a warm blooded male, as I’ve read many a time on many catholic fora, after all, it is said that the man armed with testosterone, is unable to keep his ammunition inside his pants. This is conditional Catholicism,…

Lies

She tasted the bitter fruit – What was fed slowly from within – When she could not feel The tension of the frenulum Nor the movement of the tongue Only a concoction of bitterness Falling out ripe and moist They say it is a rite of passage When innocence discovers that There is no longer…