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!"


We come into this life expecting too much and leave expecting too little

Wednesday, December 30, 2009


winters  heavy slumber
silent heavy slumber
Christmas lights strung for our childhood memories
of a coming Santa

spark up that Christmas morning feeling whether we want it or not
when we notice, if we had one...

the older we get the more we love the credit card santa
giving and getting and eating and just saying hello more than often

science has proven that looking at bright lights
 can lift our moods
the research that got me started painting
selfishly enough
to sooth wounds that made the very air around me bleed

I am left writing my prison memoirs
wondering if i am a mandela or a manson?

general factor x .... x for chaos?

My visions are larger than I have been able to scribe
more than words can show
not a soundbite
too much for a sitcom
needs more fodder than a poem
more sides shown than a novel
an encyclopedia that connects every word ever into a story

I can my beginning before and after this flesh
know myself to be in this time a tattered travel to all that has been and will be
my freedom from this mission comes when it is done and once more
the will of God can come to me as the supreme surprise
the greatest gift of that Christmas Morn that represents more than man knows
though you sense the future, too
hard to know what you have not been taught..
our teacher awaits expecting clean slates to finally glory in the vision of his ways
to finally know
our sacrifices were for the good of others...
not the sins that the slivers of a life seem to show....
in the judgement of man the would be god

tattered traveler between times and places
a visitor to others stories
tells his own alone in mystery
free for all to see

i think again and again of the death of the revolutionaries
the protester's jailed and beaten
all over the planet
for all kinds of reasons
in the war against the progressive


we will have less and less as the population blossoms
learn to live with it
less garbage and packaging and pompous sales packages
stream line what you need
hoard only words

the changes we see make the future understandable at least
tactical problems that can be approached without controversy
the war for justice will not be raged by armies
the war will be fought between those who make great wealth
exploiting the environment
and the rest of us
for 20 years we have ignored the scientists
I mean, what the hell.... no one died in a nuclear war
the clicking clock they move ominously toward midnight every year
saying the scientists believed we were this close to that big war
end of life
and doesn't every generation think the world is going to end?
all the ad hoc arguments that grow with our beer bellies

we barely take into account the nukes anymore
they are still nightmares out there
suicide bombers will get them if we don't play world cops
nuclear phallic symbols rising into the sky all over the world

left over bombs
from our years of fears
our propoganda spewed hatred
our idealogical wars
fought with very real blood
greed and bigots and dreamers and writers

we have the big bombs and can't use them to win a war
afganistan, iraq, pakistan, iran and whoever the hell else we are fighting here and there
can't use em

wouldn't do no good
just turn the entire world into our enemy
give Israel an excuse to pop off a couple nukes of their own
blow up a few Arabs and grab the god bestowed land --ho, ho, ho says their Santa...

the theory of nothing
rattles around the sleepless night
awake with a glowing christmas tree
hazlenut coffee
a sleeping Husky
a nice scene
M. laying on the couch snoring a little now and then

cnn discussing the greenhouse effect
hearing about the rising anger of the poorer countries
that are going to suffer for our largesse

hard to argue with the idea that america russia china and canada
have set into motion a geographical catastrophe
that we will pay for
when the storms and floods come
we will send in our soldiers and relief
do what we can
send out our prayers
tell ourselves our healing energies will help the starving

the actual fact that the people who are responsible
for pushing oil on people
are going to make us pay for their sins'
with our entire planet
chokes me with the old fucking injustice....
the vile face of the demonic
when the CIA got in bed with Exxon the gates of hell opened a bit
I can  feel the heat

we are not going to get a solution
 out of the ruling powers
 in any of the large countires
the movement could use interlocking green political parties that agree to press certain issues
a movement that creates Justice
to fight the packs of corporate lawyers who fight it tooth and nail
reactionaries to the reactionaries

we were lured out of the jungle
into the fields
to hunt
where there were no trees
no where to climb
away from the charging jaguars
who would bat our spears and clubs aside
show us just who was the top predator on the plane
we forgot us much in our cities
see the big cats only in zoos
slaves to our curiousity
we won the war

the face of the world
is pathetic
no money to attend no protestors
give to a cause
can't risk the job asking for a union

I can't see through the snow storm outside
seems the entire world is gone
the tv just a cheap lie about some other place that I do not inhabit
with news I don't  need to know
opinions that offend me
I can't listen to the right wing pundits
actors pretending they have ethical positions
instead of just propaganda agendas
gotta please that right wing boss at fox
by slamming those liberals
gotta shape the usa mind
gotta pretend
they have the proper spin
they offer a mythic 'other' for the real news i suppose
people prefer as much
like the Limbaugh people who are just happy to have
someone to think for them
to give them a way to live
that frees them to hate
be selfish
to take their orders from republican politicians
reading those talking points like they were the news

the prophets are cloaked
by their mundane appearance
the terrific loneliness of thinking out alone
where no one else has quite been before
speculating on every religion
in my mad run for glory
for forgiveness
for a way of living that was better than the one I had

when my spaceship crashed
I was surprised just to be alive
my memories muddled
when I split my head open
on the side of a mountain
i try to remember who I was out there?
the images offer me no narrative
... just the same old chaos
all I seem to be able to make sense of is a future self
far from now
who will still wonder
who were we these humans
that tore so boldly across this planet
these warrior poets
who prided themselves on being a bit more than they really were?
Did they remember to live hard enough to make this journey worth it?
Have enough fun to suffer the scars?
Keep their youth until the end of our years
a secret between ourselves and a few friends?

grace the revered Jackson says
Grace Before Thanks
I don't get Christmas Cards from people who I got out of prison

in a world loaded for fucking bear
an inner strength that says you can take anything
have to
that's your job
to live
just to live

that fire of faith burns in every christmas light we pass on the highway
spews through bad seasonal movies
tonight was Santa Verses The Martians
watching the low to no budget movie is
my response to the chaos on tv
the health care debacles
our poor president doing his damnedest
to do more than any other president ever has

problem comes when we find out we can no longer rely
on consumer spending to run the engine of this economy
more people/less resources/
simple bad old math of the population explosion
we hear less and less about this since AIDS came around
changes that dire prediction
the mystery disease that solved what was then thought to be the coming end of life'
as  we know it... a soyent green world
a disease that killed junkies and gays
sexual radicals and huge swaths of the African population

hear a lot of rumbles about the disease being created
hard to believe
like 9-11
the false flag mission that started the war with the middle east
on a day that all the military pilots were on a massive training mission
no one shot down the terrorist planes
there was explosives involved in bringing down the towers

they did it.
got their war.
hard core folk.
they thought nothing of torture, extraordinary rendition, horror prisons
They plan on burying their sins in hidden in the spies files
they'll admit as much in a hundred years
preserve the republic and all that

the lesson still has to be learned
so the children know how governments gear up populations to want a war
how they lie to get their way
how they cannot be trusted
how the media will go along with them for the most part

we will get beyond war
it will end
we have abandoned too many people in the past
the Afgani's once already
Iraq, too

Both places we've been playing war games with
we loved Saddam for awhile there
boy they killed him fast
I wish he could have lived on to write his story
what tales such a man could tell
he might have become a pillar for peace
or he might have been a lightening rod for revolution?

I want to forgive everyone and pray for as much at night
In the mornings sometimes as i wake up
my pleas as frantic as those for my own forgiveness

my sins are vague
at the moment
unrelated to my day to day
fought by simple crusades of trying just not to hate anyone
even the Taliban
then they do something that makes me feel the same old fires

I do not want to sentence women to live in such near slavery
they should fight for their rights
no religion that matters would keep women out of school
true Muslims know as much
there are too many paths up the mountain
people take the ones that are easiest to follow
they fear going off on their own'\
out into the forests
where they might just run into a mystical beast
playing a beat
their own

polemics of comedy and strife and poetry
the blogging of a life

the exacting of an audience
without having to live by the publishers
the market's chant of
'write a spy book, romance, something about vampires....
sell sell sell what the hell'

don dellilo's writer wrote porn for children to read about each other
had the market covered for awhile
now we have the twilight series

there is enough room in the universe for all the words we will ever tell
I suppose
if they are worth something to someone ....
even if it is just igniting a few crotch fires in fourteen year old girls

I fear they will burn up
die out with us
we'll send something out into space about ourselves
maybe even a few fragile survivors
aliens could show up and help us out

mystic me
I think that the body
is a very boring way to travel
who needs it?
Give me a spirit to fly around space with,
because it is quite large....

buddha I will have to come back I suppose
unless the dreams of fire and lightening call me to act in the name of God
create an apocalypse on the shores of Lake Michigan
the final burning off of the chaf
an ark of souls
embarking for the face of God
prodigal children returning from the big bang

act dammit man act
rage into their lying faces
sue the news for lying to you
for false advertising about fairness....

in the paranoid world of the right wing
they see my drifts toward socialism
as the beginning of lining up the greenhouse deniers and getting rid of their gene pools first

more taxes they advertise as they talk about defeating health care
oh, don't make us pay more taxes they say.
Everyone wants universal healthcare except the healthcare companies who will be reigned in for once
The reality of politics

i wrote the other day that Obama is Cheney in black face.
I didn't really mean it... just thought it was kind of funny
he inherited a war and an economy that is fighting his every reform
I still wear my elect Obama hat
though with my long hair flying everywhere
 I can tell some look at me as slightly mad
long hair does that to some people
oh well
no false advertising there

more than you can ever appear
oh man
take comfort
where you can

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