gods walk among us

the living
make the dead
immortal

gods
are born
this way

where in
life, they
were men

in death
their spirit, like
shadow puppets

used
by many hands
to spread the word,

grave men and grave women
only hear in death
because they can’t

listen in life
unable to fathom, that
gods walk among us

all the time.

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This is it.

If I could start over

it wouldn’t

make a difference.

This is it.

This is how

it was always

meant to be.

Like Greek Mythology,

three sisters

have spun, measured, and cut

my fate.

I no longer hum

those daytime dirges,

but in sleep hear brilliant concerto’s

covered by the night.

a caged dove

Not all the people
you need, can stay
in your life for keeps
they too have places to be
thay can’t always, always be
it gets easier to juggle
some days, others
it’s impossible, until
you’re able to see
that need was never meant to be
your burden, so it’s yours to release
if and when you can
like a caged dove
whose only wish it is to fly
into that holy land.

To taste a little death

To taste
a little
death
once in a while
is essential
really,
for it gives
us
the hunger
to live
again.

It
doesn’t always
taste that good
death, in fact
it tastes
pretty sour
most times,
but if a pucker
is worth
a thousand lives
I’ll save mine
for you, if you’ll
save a bite for mine.

Blame it on God

When something goes wrong
blame it on God.
When something goes right
blame it in God.
When a baby is born
blame it on God.
When a loved one dies
blame it on God.

Blame it on God

blame it on God.

Some of us get God
the rest of us get Cake.