am align -ed

to the poets who haven't
studied at Yale and yet
still know of Pound &
Blake and even better
Cummings and Bukowski
dropping names with a
left/left/right combo
that never is a combi
-nation,
floating,
on the wings
of a nightmare -
not a dream any
more except in
the hearts of
a few in the
seedier dis
-tricts, the
distractions are
able to cover up and
conceal - the world hates
them because they are
who they are and Father
(as in YHWH, knows them)
we see now as if through
a glass, darkly, smudged,
coated with the vapor from
our breath, our spirit, our
breathing is labored -
pangs of birth
beat even now;
languid moments,
unsettling quakes
of the earth -
\"Look Up! Is
it id? Our
past? Our
Dear DNA?\"
i
can
hear
them even
now, reversed
out of the time-
line for a moment;
future possibilities
achievable - mountains
will move with faith
and grace through
Yahshua surely
saves even
today or
tomorrow -
time out of
line with all
possibilities
relevant, happening.

i wake up on a hill,
nestled in tall grass,
the stars beaming down.
i haven't the mark of the
beast, but i have peace
through Ruach HaKodesh.