qualified

 I been bad

I been good

Ain't ever been one to do

what they say I should

Lead myself because there was no one else

qualified to say too much beyond put the cork in the bottle

idiot.

Now I can say as much to that self.

I know no one else who has Messianic Visions and powers.

Should they exist I would be speculative unless I had seen

What I have thru me and I am a spirit in flesh

Larger than this speck in space

Serving a God who hears every sparrow fall

Grieves for them all

The weather shifts at my command 

Minor miracles to show you over the years

Coincidence does not explain this.

I come with messages or there would be no point at all.

The WORD.

I come to preach for the end times

How to be sane and prepared mentally for what is to come

or deal with the futures I see coming

Always the worst in my mind.

A massive wave of destruction

Hungry people the locusts ravaging the land

I do not think people who live lives ignoring this are wrong.

There is a point where you have to say "Who can say it is not beautiful,"

as David Byrne said.

I wrote of him coming to me with open arms.

The only person to ask for my freedom and God had me in a madness

A killing spree coming

I could not have friends especially among those I love

Did not know if they would die or not

Though then I was feeling insane from the lies and the hate.

After all the visions of Love God brought me here to preserve a path

To Democracy when all others seem to lead to hells compared.

I stand between this man and the white house a peaceful sentinel

Saying you will enter here over my blood.

I will come like a Tibetan Monk to the first English invaders,

With flowers walking into the fire, no fear of death at all...

(he went back to England and kept them from being invaded

the army dude in charge, he was so touched by their reaction;

the two I met who lived in Monasteries were extrodinary

we looked at one another in an elevator and giggling like children

again and again

I have never experienced anything like this with an adult;

tells me I can never be this.

Too much misery and violence 

From the streets in the cab

The constant thefts showed me the worst of humanity

Always packaged as the best, because that is part of the con

the people who at the last minute would jump out and not pay

Nothing you can do.

They know it, too.

I would pick up the next person and they would be kind.

I had more human interactions with all kinds of people driving cab in chicago

than most people could only dream of

Curious as a writer seeking stories

I listened to all the tales of strangers

Confessions.

The young hispanic kid asking me if I wanted a bump of coke

When I said no

He asked me if I didn't wake up

in the morning with a bump. I laughed.  I was in aa and would not try anything,

Ask me a few years later

I might have took a bump and a phone number.

I am now in a position where you are looking at me

as who I am

the one I laugh about being

the humbling one inside me 

Son of a father

A bit of 

God sent out to you

In the time of your dying.

Does any of how a poet finds words matter...

If my heart is seeking universal love even among those

whose behavior I despise unto war

U drafted me

for a  season 

without any reason

Swinging at shadows in a dark alley 

striking friend and foe

A fiction writer's work turned scripture by an act of industrialists

and superstition

I  the most supernatural being you have known

documented

bled for died for laughed at

 tried to kill and worship and jail.  

As I watched my world go mad

No idea why no one was coming to save me

the oh, right, I let the CIA off for cutting off the arms of people

No, I reacted to Bush doing anything without asking why

just reacted figuring whatever he did was wrong.

God had other plans for this country.

Lessons to teach his only begotten Son and others

A list of sins to go down

to humble me

even more than I already was

They tried to break me

my innocence was light enough

in my dark cell

Now I have finally been one of the warriors

In the battle for power in the USA and maybe world

I am still a prisoner.  If I am set free

will I be hated...

or would David Byrne walk up and open his arms for a hug...

Or did you hurt him or I hurt him when I reacted to him idiotically

after he wrote that song about the molecules I was preaching about

an honor like so many that I am overwhelmed 

the people who will never heal I am among you

I was never meant to heal.  I have been trained to

understand pain

physical and mental

by a brutal God who knows I would take any pain

to become what I must to do the will of God.

----------  ----------

Okay, that poem is done.   This is the question mark, by the guy without a working question mark on his keyboard...  everyone has disappeared from my sight.  I do not know what the world is doing, in terms of the most important person to me, me.  I do not often know what my fate is with you people.  

You still act like I am a criminal.  Maybe I am, then.  So... if my bars are made of my own words, then do not expect me to tear them down, and walk out mute.   Why am I not trusted...  am I a controversial leader who many want to kill.  You asked me in the same week, do you believe in Marriage, and are you a mobster.  Funny to see.  Something about being together with Mary Ann all these years, twenty two, made me feel safe.  Like I could trust her in some way I have never trusted anyone.  A love came flowing back in.  Still, what do I know of her...  this bothers me.  I would leave her over certain matters, if they happened.

Do I know... I know she knew a lot more than me.  I know when I said she sure seemed to be taking this well, then she went in the living room and acted like she was freaking out in this totally fake way.  I looked at her and shook my head in disgust.  So fucking alone then.  Living with someone I did not know...  but in the end, the only person on the planet who gave a shit about me.  I believed.  

So... what will be in this messed up world of ours...  will I find out what it is like beyond the dome around my mind, here in Chicago, where you feel you have given me enough hints.  Though you had no idea who I am.  Took clues from...  

I cannot keep reliving all of this, every moment of every day, so I go to other dark memories, deaths of pets, like a cigarette burn to take away the pain inside, make it so intense you forget everything for that sense.