TRUE STORY:

WAKING UP JESUS


The ongoing story of Jesus waking up in Chicago, in the body of an agnostic writer,
who is nothing like the Son of God the right-wing Christians watching him expected.


You are welcome to share my work with a link bank... keep getting asked this...

Last time I was here, I told them I would not lead a revolution, that I was there to spread heresy. The crowds thinned. The day they killed me, I marched alone... This time I have returned to find Romes Soldiers Sleeping, content they have killed off the Troublesome Jew. I was surprised how bloody the Indiana boy became as my sword fell again and again ....


In the years since this story began in 2007, my secret fame has spread out from the halls of power that kept me secret all these years, as they waited for the Christ to finally wake up...

I try to imagine their anticipation.

Remember a dream I had in my twenties about running thru Chicago screaming that Christ was coming back, and man oh man was I happy... a cloud came through the middle of the skyscrapers above me, in the thin strip of blue above Dowtown State street, and I expected to see Christ... instead, just a bunch of musicians painted up like Ziggy stardust.

I surprised my keepers. They thought they had me figured out from the Bible. If that book could have told you everything, there would be no need at all for me.


Jesus: "I have become Known across this planet as a dangerous man with a growing force of hidden followers who value my orders more than life itself. A prophet of war. Once and future King in a court of shadows. Life and death in my hands every damn day. I ROAR, your most mighty shit themselves and run. I make myself a known threat, so I can try to negotiate what otherwise requires bullets and blood. I am here to free the enslaved in body and mind. I cannot be defeated. When the Will of God and The WILL OF THE PEOPLE ARE ONE, NO FORCE ON EARTH CAN STOP US!"





WAKING UP JESUS...

WAKING UP JESUS...
We come into this life expecting too much and leave expecting too little

Thursday, May 15, 2008

THE LOST AND FOUND

Weary warriors wante into a twilight of slogans
they are the believers
convinced combatants
drafted into a dream young
raised in the propoganda of violent cartoons

drawn along through video games
that reward virtue and deciet
as equally as our urges

the games make sense of a world

where if u do good you are rewarded
there...
in the game...
in a stoner's dream of an fternoon
spent lazily hitting buttons on a controller

GOD himself has shone a spotligt
on hi s son
sets him up at the middle of the world stage

now the only light I feel are the search lights
of solders and spies and scientists
seeking thru the forest of my mind
for any of the deities thoughts
that have eluded them

I have only to wave my wand
tomake the world's leaders disappear
into the secret pits of bodies
that hide the shames of history

my privations are part of my sentince
in a country of plenty I have enough
I have plenty
enough to walk in my parade of one

I go over all the faces of thepeople who KNOW ABOUT ME
marvel at the cone of silence
they envelop
me within

tell myself many have sacrificed more than I
in my name
paid the ultimate coste to march in this parade

read in the New Yorker about the american jihadist

spewing the spittle of his rage rants
cursing the unfairness of his world
this time around the object of his hate is 'infidils.'

a war between warriors
who believe they are sending
their enemies to hell
& destined to watch tehir own dead
be welcomed by the glorious arms of God

such a convienant message
for the generals to send down through the uneducated soldiers

another easily digested myth
that makes sense
within these stories of lies
we are all weaned on
whether it be christ or allah or buddha or the sanity of our shrink

you can break out of the mold

YOU MUST IF WE ARE TO FORGE NEW MOLDS

NEW WAYS FOR THE CHILDREN TO BE

free of the hateful propoganda of the enemies
free of the old ways of seeing the world as black and white/up and down
good and bannned/blessed and cursed....

I AM A PRAXIS
for plan within plan

a Russion doll that slowly changes
from one visage to the next

the point of change
the hole in the universe
the man inblack who hides in teh shadows of culture
whispering sermons on the downlow
words you are not even sure you heard
which your Holy Ghost takes to heart as gospel

THESE ARE THE WORDS THAT CHANGE YOU

FLIP SWITCHES IN YOUR MIND
SEND ELECTRIC IMPULSES INTO PARTS OF YOUR MINDLONG FORGOTTEN

A SPLIT SECOND CONVERSION....

oh how that dream used to play in my mind

I prayed to be struck down
by the holy ghost
to find myself foaming at the mouth
shaking and screaming that the Lord Is Within me

I was not raised to accept such possession...

science has taken the rituals of conversion
and reduces tehm to bait
to sell the next product

words convert over the years
200 years ago our Enlgish would be barely understood
would blow their mind/keep them hidden away from the obvious signs
that all they knew is dead

I am from this past/// though more immense than you can imagine
I see cemetaries on planets humans could not pronounce

I was swept up into my curiousity
stumbling thru life tripping on famalier objects
running from curio to curion
anything to get me outside of the flesh and its awesome secret

the story traps my flesh
in the public eye forever

there isno backing away from God
not by me... never again

HE WHO CREATED ALL

laughs at rebellion
likes the revolutionary spirit
that gives thehumans
ways of re-invenint themselves over and over
into dreamed up of beins

HE ON HIGH CREATED DIVERSITY

HE ON HIGHT
WILL NEVER ALLOW MAN TO KIL HIS BELOVED CREATION

you will change

startsin america
the imae of Barak Obama
will be beloved
where Bush was hated

a cosmetic change or....

DEPENDS ON HOW HARD WE PUSH


the PEOPLE will be heard under Obama

not the rich few
not the hidden cabals pulling societal changes
that act as pied pipers
to the mindless masses
not those few who control the morst media


NO THE CHANGE WILL COME

I AM THE PRAXIS
THAT FULLFILLS THE PROPHEcies
watch as the being grows ALMIGHTY!!!!!

feel the floods, tornados, hurricanes... the malaise that comes with ignoring me

there is a door that I could walk thru...
a tear in the movie screen
that will allow me to see byond the 4th wall
to where I will stand with those who worshipped me from afar

I can barely consder the day
that I will walk into a room
wehere no one denies me
& we talk deity to human

the demonic lie of secrecy
not longer is needed as a security measure

the games they play on my head
are meant to keep me in check
perhaps they are trying to quiet me
saying anyting aloud in tis wolrd of means the scribes take down my ever utterance

my god
the manpower to pull of this
eclipse of a modern city
by the shadow of a rising diety
thrown down into a worthless silence

the secret on the shores of lake michigan....


ALL IS FORGIVEN....

at fearless radio they would only play two of my poems
one screaming about enraged warriros
who hav returned from world wide wars
to find theclergy they entrusted them children ....

"WE WILL NOT FORVIGE THE PIRENS FOR MOLESTING OUR CHILDREN
WHILE WE FOUGHTYOUR WORLD WIDE WARS"

FORVIVEN EVERYONE...


THIS i meant in the eyes of God
not man...

Man does not forgive likea God
man feels the stings of pain
that are nothiong to a God
yet accumulate in man like radioactivepellets
slowly conjouring cancer

seek the wise and powerful voices of your scripture
for the words of the masked god
playing another part suiting for steering primitive cultures
the infinite complexities of a god...

a a god too far awy from being a man or woman
for his son to even care about his venacular


I remember a church from teh future
see myself standingbehind a pew
spreading white light into my congreataion
that sines so bright the entires worlds sees
that a torch has beenlit in the spirital night

a hand has becconed you intot he dark netherworld
beyond teh easy lies of the day to day
whisperingof what goes on behind the act we play
in teh places where we are truly alone

seperated from our houses, cars, job
all accolades and hatreds turn to dust

i am her to tell you the time has come
TO AWAKEN
FROM YOU SCIENCE FICTION DREAMS
OF gods and monsters and angels

change your minds just enough to look for saints,ministers and angels

see them rising and falling, risen and fallen
they rise and fall all teh time depending on where they are needed

for all enternity
souls slowly being forged
humbled
shaped into creatures pleaceing to Go

creatures that can peacefully enter the heavens
without ufo' approaching to knock down or towers of bible

They aliens could reduce humans back intot he dark ages
taek away all signs that you even existed
patiently as the slowly grinding of the tuetonic plates
to turn you and yours to dust

they could
take away our ability to transfer knowledge from one generation
to another
leave your young in the pits of violence and superstition
three hundreds years tops
and no one would know what to do with the sanitation department

the diseases would run rampant
life spans shrink back to thirty
stopping the fermentation of contemplation that comes with age

can't worry about what I seein the skies
have ti kep my mindon my life nough
to prove worthy of this gift
I am frodo after the ring has been tossedinto the fire
as I journeyed further and further along the seemingly endles
trak to the forces that could meltthe ring

ther temptations of greateness
tried to to try to impose my vision on all
... whoever died be damned

HOW FAR I HAVE STRAYED

from the Indiana boy
who started on this trek without a knowledge of the violence within


Behind the curtain of this fleshthe production practices
various endings....

from apocolypse to peacetrying to fit their
moods and presumpstions
into the words they'll recite
when the audience is finally let in on the secret

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