roasted

Shimmering leaves

a hard cool breeze...

New England's classic season is upon us.

Usually, this time of year I take a trip to Salem, Massachusetts and pay homage to the poor souls who suffered there. Under the cruel hand of paranoia and fundamental religious doctrine, colonists from Europe mimicked a cruel insanity, a mob rule that they learned after witnessing over 500 years of religious persecution.

witch hunts, torture chambers and public burnings.

Not a girl or tree left standing.

They rode cold brutal waves in cramped damp spaces for months

insanity fed them like roasted rats

to find a land where their families would be safe from chambers and burnings

but perpetuated it, reinvented it in an image of ego in the name of the law.

In the name of god. My God would Never.

I can see them clearly, today....

in the dark eyes of liars.

The fake pride standing in front of the class

bloated with animus for truth.

Hostility for thinkers with no bounds.

Anger for being questioned and corrected, demons build fires and roast you there.

The mob either puts their heads down and weeps quietly in private or they cheer on the flames.

your cheers won't protect you from pitch forks.

Hysteria screeches like a wifi so high it rings in your ears.

All day. Forever.

No power to stop it. Ignore the fear.

They'll burn you if they can't ignore you

and then it's too late.

I see you standing there. I heard you beg me not to leave.

Knowing what I did

you still loved me. I left you anyway and have been crying ever since.

I know He loves me

and will lead me back to you.

As I wait for the road to rise again

sitting and spinning a wheel of clay

I dance in the Glory I never knew and mutter the words I wish you'd say.

Prophets and seekers

Preachers and saints

all rising from ashes their silence now faint...

Knowing a truth and what to do I'll call it the Gospel and reach out to you.

with Love and Grace on each wing

the truth sitting high on my back

It's over for you, you liars and cheats.

Handling the labor of birth

you've been exposed as the frauds and liars you are.

At your podium or in front of a class. In the office or behind a mask.

your tribulation will crack the earth beneath your feet as the road rises to ours.

Birthing pains are almost over now.

Twins are crowning.

One born alive

full of life...glowing

the other withers in self loathing

and crawls back to darkness

It rots slowly from within only to stand

on weak little feet

to demand you vote for its DemoNCreep.

Freewritten and wondering what anything means. If you're an honest human you have nothing to hide. If you stand tall and in Love with your Faith and Glory

nothing you say can ruin your story.

That's me.

gearing up, to tell my story.

Lord knows I've been writing it for years too afraid to let it rip. The time has come and I'm not holding back, not in quatrains as a Prophet

not at diner with family

not in my car with rage...

I'm not detaining my Spirit anymore. I've chosen a side.

I'll never be Fatherless again.