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

Saturday, April 10, 2010

Born To Die

who is here now
who has not seen packs of wolves in suits taking down the weak and old and easy?

who is here now
who has not wondered if Justice is even part of the package?

wondering
we will spend our days
staring into the material maze
astounded and disgusted and dismayed
warriors straggling in after a crushing defeat has shattered their army

trying to pick up the jagged pieces
left when Reagan shattered the Unions
stir the revolt in the soul
give a sort of x-ray vision to the masses
the superpower of being able to see right through bullshit.


After the show
I lift up the curtain
show the children there is a ventriloquist
behind the political puppets
reassure them that none of this is real
that they should know fiction from fact

words flow like a tidal wave
taking and consuming
and becoming
everything in their path

my faith in the Father is the rock on which I build my house
He showed me his face again
His way of announcing himself
gave me the dream the same night as another that came true
as if to assure me that Yes, the Father has come to awaken the Son.

i stay alone in my mind for the most part
attempting to find a way to live on despite what I believe
not because of .... as it seems like I did once
 a trick that happened to me as I grew older
the hard one to face
drives a lot of people to pop too many pills and just leave
soldiers to lose it when they get home

I want to be the sun breaking through the dead gray sky of every winter day

I want to be the caress you have longed for

The man of your dreams


the lost one who comes home and is recognized as family

the one you have been told to wait for
the one they told you would come

in this modern age
of course I became like property to my protectors
I forgive the ones
who laughed at my forgiveness and took advantage of my mercy
as I try not to allow my anger
 to entice me
to enjoy
 my vengeful Father's wrath
I have no control on the plagues that my Father causes
I have no control over his method of creating souls
I have no control over you and you have limited control over me
His wrath is greater than my Grace

Spring breaks out green and wholesome on the  banks of Lake Michigan

I see the future burning this present down
bringing mankind finally humbled to his knees

I am living in one of the last calm villages in a world filled with plagues
plagues of poverty and imperialism and fascists and slavery and starvation
surround the planet
linger on in pockets even of the city where I live

I want to follow along with my orders
live pretty much on the autopilot from my childhood
a liberal democrat coloring within the lines
even as inside I began to see politics as a big scam
or even worse... a lost war
between haves and have not's
won by sleepy looking security guards who watched their enemies lay down their arms
sit in front of their tv's and shut the fuck up


Am I sent as a judgement, Lord?
I ask the silent night sky


there are flames in my eyes
a volcano waiting to explode from my chest
lightening building a wall of sheer white destruction around me...

I bring revolution/turmoil
a general leading a bloody  army of Angels, Demons and The Dead


in my hand is the fire from the Heavens

that burns away the dead wood you have carved into unholy icons

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