Moloch

The kings by every name--the bureaucrats,
The legislators, presidents, and queens,
The Secretaries, all the true fat cats--
Devour all the children. Moloch cleans
The flesh from off their bones, discriminates
Against them all, accepting no debates.

The children in the belly of the beast
Are roasted and their screams turned into moos
As gentle as those cows before a feast
Who feast in ignorance that they will lose
The peace of pastures in the morning sun,
Milk-suckled veal before their life's begun.

The sacrificers hear the sounds of peace
And virtue emanating from the bronze
God's lips--they know these children's souls' release
Will bring the jailers to release the bonds
That their imaginations bind them by--
Contrary facts they always will deny.

Their bonds are gone and have been gone--they bind
Themselves and feed their children to the flames
And lift their blackened bones in hopes they'll find
A place where they'll deny their secret shames,
Where finest pheasants fly, cooked, to their plates
No one has placed before them, perfect fates.

They only have to feed Moloch each child
They nurtured at their breasts--the sacrifice
Of all the future's worth it--they're beguiled
Into believing evil can be nice
With just enough burnt flesh and bones made smoke
For Moloch's hunger you cannot revoke. 

Reactionaries

The new, the strange--these things the people hate,
And have to hate to have a healthy home--
Creators of new values, virtues rate
As evil--burn them on the gate you'll roam
Right through in celebration as you pass
The body smoldering, the hero dead
Who opened up the date to bring the mass
Into a future beautiful, the bread
Of life available to all. The bones
Interred into the columbarium,
A statue raised, we hear the mourners' moans,
The mourners who could never make a crumb
The hero made now praise, indeed they hail.
The meaning that the nihilists reject,
The everything-has-meaning folks bewail
New meanings that he made, while some reflect
And think the changes obvious and true.
A brand new gadget? Please protect the old
No matter who it hurts--it's what is due
So some are safe from brand new wealth untold.
A brand new style of art? Reactionaries
Reject it, claim themselves the avant garde
And poison all the sweet-singing canaries
To warn off people from the gold the bard
Uncovered to enrich our souls to health.
But all protect the order that they know--
Except the hated makers of all wealth,
Who plant and water, make each person grow. 

A Prophesy from the Holy Spirit

Veni creator spiritus
Yes, Holy Spirit, come
Without You I will have no words
Without You I am dumb

The world's unveiled when you arrive
The shadows slip away
The stones begin to dance and sing
And interact in play

The rocks enring me, spread and loop
To almost-living shapes
Yes, living things and thought itself
Are atom-pattern apes

The holy world's revealed to me
And you, if you'll but look
If you can't see it it's because
God's love you once forsook

God offers everyone a gift
But he won't beg or plea
Some gifts are simple, full of ease
But mine's of prophesy

And prophesy's the land of truth
You think our lives are worse
But we're protected by the gift
Of telling truth in verse

But like Cassandra whose each word
Was true but all thought lies
I tell you this, but each of you
My prophesy denies

So do not listen carefully
These words I wrote won't matter
The world of misanthropists soon
Will dissipate and scatter

For hating humans brings on hate
Of God and love and joy
And those who love mere power fate
Will fool and then destroy

For envy is the evil loved
By those who hate mankind
Resentment is the killer who
The haters love to find

Deny the men who love to rule
Embrace what nature gives
For that's God's order--paradox
Is why the cosmos lives

The Enthusiast

This gift that God has granted me must grace
My life in living fullness--such a gift
Should never be neglected, nor a rift
Emerge between us such that I'd embrace
The world--I weave words to a living lace
That in joy or despair are wont to lift
The soul into new ways of feeling, shift
The mind to rhythms of a different pace.

God grants this gift to wake the world with words--
In the beginning was the word which breathed
The world to life one logos at a time--
The poet is the master of the words,
And through this power God in love has wreathed
With laurels poets' metaphors and rhymes.

The Two Are One

Take the woman, get her naked
Now's the time for something sacred
Toss tradition, time to break it
Time to open up the gate

Strip to nothing, vulnerable
To yourself--don't prick the bubble
That you live in--face your double
Now's the time to tempt your fate

Now's the time to paint your body
Matching patterns, bright and gaudy
You and she challenge the haughty
Complexify the all too straight

Bare her breasts to bring the dawn-light
Dance to lure out sullen sunlight
Love each other under moonlight
Sing with joy and celebrate

Celebrate your very being
From your soul to what you're seeing
Bodies, souls are not for fleeing
Love is one, division hate