#saintjude

Perhaps this is what it means to truly be “alive…

NAKED.

cool sheets rubbing against heat scorched skin_____________

rolling, tossing, turning in freshly laundered sheets.

Quiet.

Save for the hummings of the tiny light blue plastic fan...

refrigerator’s fan,

and a kettle with the promise of lemon tea

bubbling bubbling, bubbling

bubbling in the distance.

-saintjudejournal

Jude 1:1-2 Link: bible-illustrated.blogspot.rs/2018/01/Jd0101.html

Jude, a bondservant of Jesus Christ, and brother of James, to those who are called, sanctified by God the Father, and preserved in Jesus Christ: mercy, peace, and love be multiplied to you.

So now you see

your governments lie

No one really know what they’re doing

or what’s really going on.

It’s all subject to change

‘Cept the natural laws.

And your work is not essential except for the ones that really are...

Mother Earth, she weeps.

Tears of pesticidic ash

her valleys and her oceans covered in a sea of trash

And you with all your audacities thinking you can try_____outsmart

Outsmart what was always here?

The arrogance

falls off you and splash

In rivers below, all the creatures slowly clap

as man the great exterminator now answer for his crimes.

This is what us freaks have always known

why we spend all day indoors

running from the morning light;

fasting and preying vampiric creatures of the blackened night.

And it’s almost as if we could smell the rot since birth, stinking up the atmosphere_____

the stench.

Feel it deep inside our bones as if we’ve always known that there would be,

and you can call it what you want;

A reckoning.

A rapture.

A gathering of souls.

Michelangelo’s last judgment played out in A minor ...

keys to the kingdom now long lost.

scales,

In outstretched hands, weighing options

“Satan smiting Job with boils.”

Deep down you must have always known,

(we were not meant to last)

felt it in your bones,

(we were not meant to last)

with the way we all once were

(don’t you think it’s sad how none of this was meant to last?)

I remain

A cicada safely preserved in ember,

Trapped.

in a cocoon of idleness

and self- preserving wit.

My wings, they wither

against the all encompassing storms

From below, people watch___

wonder how it all plays out_____when it’s

Strength, drawn from my own fragility that

carries me on______

How can I go on when I have seen my own mortality?

Seen how it all

plays out.

When in the end, death

the jealous, spiteful lover

grinds us all to dust?

And there’s a storm before the sea of unconsciousness of days that are yet to come.

Blinded by the great fog and grey skies

Lucy, in the skies with dumb luck, nonchalance

Blinded by her own light? She, who

chokes upon the sea of holy scrolls

as mustard gas sets in.

The world is ending and I have not yet lived

I shall never see the sun rise from the top of Mount Kilimanjaro,

Or the shores on which lies pirate's cove.

And I shall live vivaciously through Rimbaud

And those who follow suit,

The heroes of the weary, the hedonists delight

And I shall remain forever in my isolation

A vagabond, enslaved

beneath the walls and shackles that I alone have built.