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

Tuesday, July 08, 2008

scraps of the spirit





you made me your god
i did not make the claim

until others convinced me
that flawed man I am
yes
this was my fate
to take on this mything role
to try to lead the people out of the cults
of mind and cultural control


today we were downtown going to cirque shanghai
i looked at all the people who had no idea what was going on in my head
no idea of the history of the disheveled looking guy dressed in black

they live in a make believe world
and they think my world is make believe

the conundrum is obvious
mankind should try to have fun in this life
strain to fight the mental demons that lead to throwing our lives away

I talked to a woman at the beach the other day
sitting there with a guitar and a gorgeous brown smile
her neck strung with beads of all colors

I strike up a conversation... or more correctly, my dog does
I end up telling her about my christ
and she is appalled
feels like I am not a christian at all

I know my destruction of sacred cows
strikes a lot of people as mysterious as those cows they are always finding
mutialiated after alein sightings,,,,
as odd and possibly as plausible

I have no choice but to consider the absure idea myself
I would run if I were not couragous
suicidal in the way of one who has seen how much better this trip gets
in the afterlife

you should know there are reasons god made man as he is
why he made humyns warriors

the cosmos are never truly at peace
there is always a fire somewhere
slavery
a child being abused
an animal being forced to fight
potential bleeding into every gutter in the ghetto

I will live this life with the creed that the war is too serious
for me to expect a normal life
I never desired as much until I had it

i DESire the words more than life

I WIsh I could be whitman celebrating mankind
mankind does that too well on their own
for me to come here to lick some pompous ass

I want all of you who I have met
who have risked much to give me messages
that I am humbled by your greatness
astounded that you respect me enough to listen to my words

my handlers were always trying to convince me
I wasn't shit
beat me down
tried to stop me from getting full of myself
all they did was empty me of myself

I see more and more wisdom in my decision
not to associate myself with anything other than my own work
I will not be acceptible to any organization all around

until the wisdom of my words are lived for a thousand years
and humynkind is finally ready to blow this fucking popsickle stand
for parts unknown

you know not my powers, man
I am much more than I will let on...
more than even your greatest experts on my kind can decipher

you think you know how to handle me

The day will come when your arrogance will bring much grieving in this world

you senseless sensationalists have the right idea
you just go too far

there is a realm far beyond our own
worlds undreamt

I have experienced my soul flying around the room
enough to know my consciousness itself is different than my body
this would be reason enough to believe in eternal life
the rest that has happened to me still seems tainted by the science
I have given way too much credence in this world

i see in the news everyday that the great challanger is going to have to work alone

no one has my vision
no ones vision compares to mine

The burden of knowing this makes the idea that it is flattering laughable

I see everywhere tales of men doing anything for power
the aprhrodisiacs of money of fame
have become the economic carrot that has the japanese coming up with a word
for working yourself to death
I hear about people working from 5am to 1am seven days a week at a mcdonalds
and realize the madness that has replaced respect in this world

a man should not have to sacrifice his life
to society

I am not a man...





You are welcome to spread my poems by whatever means... they are yours... unless you make some money off of me and then I would like some. Is that too much to ask? No. I have a family, too;.

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