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

Friday, November 07, 2008

of late lightly

of late I am lightly present in the room
barely with my body

a blur on the edge of the eye
nothing substantial enough to focus on

a scent half there
could be shit or a flower

I cannot tell where the mission began and ended
what was performer and performance

the words... were they truly mine
or merely borrowed:

words stolen from souls howling in the netherworlds
as I stalked down through blackness flickering with red flames
my sword cutting down his angels as
we make the final push
to victory

Satan himself trembles before me
i wipe their blood from my lips, eyes.

thank the father and raise my sword
from behind comes the demons own son seeking vengance

on the father who tortured his mother
the leader he thought he could never bring down

born into hell he was the only one there without sin
I remember the day he was born
how deep I cried
for the soul who would never know the comfort of love

Now I am entrenched in CHICAGO

sometimes I am the innocent among wolves
the babe from American Dad
that johnny who has no idea what the fuck is going on around him

I will never sit back and be your lap dog
Never will I give up my individuality to become another symbol
Never will I give up my roots to pursue the way of new found freinds
Never will I give in the parts of myself
that tell me nothing I do anymore matters
Never will I let my enemies
forget
that on the appointed day
I will hold their souls in my hand
and declare them worthy... or unworthy
to come into my father's court

There are all these huge pockets of secrecy in this world
and I have yet to really crack any of them
I feel hated and despised
worthless to man and myself


they count on you not believing in them
They great they
who I glimpsed from inside the belly of the beast
and still have no idea what faces they wear

I have met their spies
suffered their slings and arrows
marched on as I always do

figuring that if they kill me
what the hell?
Not that I want to die

no, I want to live... just not in this purgatory
where they will bury me in lies and half truths


I write this last line and wonder???
Can anyone find these words by accident now?

People used to run into my words by accident
leave messages

when they started deciding to censor american artists
they broke with their better selves
time to reign them in

tHEY ASKED ME TO SAVE THEM
then tied my hands and put a blindfold on me
chose to want me as their leader
until they I told them you have to elect leaders
in this country

I was trying to start a movement
and it started
There is no putting me back in the bible
No pretending I do not exist

Whether you choose to look at me as a thesbi pain or a preacher
I will never be either'

I am a poet in the whitman tradition
writing about the man we could be

Now I feel like I have given away too much
asked for too little
lived too far off in my ivory tower

In the wind I still hear my name
In the world you will still be able to see my effects

The sane will still recognize sane
and try to help the others
always did
always will

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