Spilt Blood Beckons The Misunderstood. Poem by Lenny Gazbowski

don't
feed me your greed
don't
need me to be inside

here is where you deceive me
here is not the promised land

where is my place to be free
at what point can I claim
this to be my authentic journey

my spilled blood and my dance
have always been misunderstood

tell me how can they preach and cook
the same unchanging corrupted
and mutilated message

how do they get away with such nonsense

I am looking
at a winged celestial being
I am feeling a vision of torture
I am being led
to be fed to the dead

preacher man
he cuts open my soul
he wants to taste my selfish bread
wants to baptize my unseeing eyes
wants to see me in a bottomless pit
preacher man wants my blood on his hands
wants me to be his second coming

coming man

my seed has within it
the sacred tree of life
flesh cutting deep
into the never world
soul sees beyond
this twisted world

as I end it all with the golden knife

(c) 2008/14 Lenny Gazbowski