Wings

The bird with its blue wings,
Flaps wildly on its broken song.
A note rings out,
and the note falls down.
The bird smiles,
As it floats upside down.
When it rights itself,
The sadness returns on back.
And the bird crashes to the earth.

The bird crawls upon the earth,
trying as it can to maneuver home.
Finding itself alone,
It cries for some hope of redemption.
But alone it stays,
Shamed for the shames of it faults.
It moves on through the brush,
As predators come upon it from the dusk.
And devour it with brutality.

And in the heavens the birds soul goes,
As it flies rightly,
In a justified light.

It Sicketh Me

Your poison words are monstrous to those you can suffice
They'll drop down dead and die when on your snake eyes are on our dice
The fabled truths of untruth prevent them from clawing out
But as the gasses fill the room they knew not what they did
As they reflect on the life passing through their glass eyes
They see the lies they led, and the people they bled out
And through their destruction they were brought by confessions
And guilt trips, and they know now, they ruined their families
Sons and daughters were shunned and rebuked
Other relatives all but cast aside or chastised,
They tried to tell the world how to live life just and right
While judging them, in what their fellows said was just speaking truths
they spit in the eye of the non-believer and then asked if they'd like to come inside
Spouting filth about the extreme violence, that they of course could never do,
But put into a box, and then boxed into a corner, they should murder their way through and through,
Claiming that in their persecution they were justified in their murder
When all the flamboyant wanted was to give them a welcoming hug
False prophets made powerful, and controlling over a congregation
Spew themselves upon their fellows, and the fellows lapped it up.

Gods Fly

I read a fable to my brother
About a fly and God
It ended badly for the fly
And greatly for God
The fly was placed in his place
And God remained in his place
A stern look on the fly
Who was then squashed by my brother
And God thought it was entertaining
My brother read it back to me
and his fly squashed God
But as it was a fly it did nothing
and God flung it across the room
you see the fly is doomed,
The fly is fucked,
The fly is biding time to wait to die,
By my own hands to times,
And what a brief time it has
And as they say an Angel gets its wings,
When a lonesome ole bell rings,
So a fly dies,
When God barely even tries,
To snap his fingers.

My  brother said to me that the fly was the most useless creation he'd ever seen

And I told him watch what you say, and I asked him are you questioning God's good works,

He shook his head no and proceeded to respond that he just thought God had gotten lazy

When he created the fly

Well sure of course he did, he got finished creating man, and all the beast of the fields and the birds of the air,

They all had to shit you know, so no God did not get lazy,

God got clever when he made the fly,

He took care of all the shit,

And the fly got to pester people all day and God made them fast enough to escape with their lives in tact half the time.

And gave us, 

On our good days

Some mighty good sport to destroy.

I read my brother a joke

And it went something like this:

What did one fly say to the other fly?

God don't give a shit,

how do you know,

He'd have invited us over by now.

But the other fly disagreed and he said,

God shits all the time,

What do you think man is?

Saturated.

There was a man I once knew who decided that he would paint himself green.  For what purpose nobody knew - except for him of course.  I met him while he was in the process of "greening" himself.  So I asked him, "Why are you doing this?"  And he responded simply, "Because why would I not do this."  Needless to say I was perplexed.  "Surely, its a political move, maybe environment?"  He should his head, "Why the environment?  Because im green?"  He laughed, "have you seen the environment lately, lots of more drab greys than greens."

It was a few days later when I saw him again, in a nicely pressed suit.  His hands and his toes were green, and his entire face.  I approached him and re-introduced myself.  He knew not who I was or why I chose to greet him.  "Perhaps you were someone I met in my other life, it's all a blur," he said, "during my greening process I do not remember a thing."  So I tried to remind him that I was the one who inquired if his green was a statement about our environment.  He shook his head displeased, and a look of disgust spread on his face, "Environmentalist? Me? Ha!"  He gestured to his whole self, "Do I look like I give to shits what happens to God's green earth?  It's not so green anyways, nowadays, anyhow, look-y here, greys, muted, bland, drab.  I'm just a cog in this machine."   "But why GREEN?!" I begged, "then if its not a statement, are you a Grinch?"  he didn't respond and pushed me aside.

I laid awake that night, dumbfounded by my own loss of comprehension, but my own laughable ability to understand this evergreen-ed bozo.  But I devised a plan, I painted myself orange and did it liberally from head to toe, around my ball sack, to my ass crack, a behind one and two ears.  And in this new disguise with a pair of pajama pants, and a tank top I strolled out to that usual spot.

Sure enough, there he was.  Green, but crying.  Some of the green gone under his ears where the tears had rubbed away the mask.  When he saw me approach he was shocked, and his sadness turned to fury.  He stuck a finger in my face, "Who the fuck do you think you are you son of a bitch.  And orange!?  You chose that ungodly color, you look like an oompah loompah you jerk!"  He pushed me into the street, and laid a blow across my jaw.  "You won't take this from me, you're a joke.  Let me be!."   With that he spit on me and made to turn.  And I could feel the fury building in me.  I rose to my feet as quickly as I could.  "Hey! you think you're the only one who can do something unique, I just wanted to know why you did it, I wanted an explanation."   This stopped him in his tracks and he turned over his shoulder, and quite frankly said, "I don't owe you a damned thing."