Let's sublimate, and compensate

for our assumptions

because I assume and presume

that we disagree, for

you are you and I am, well

let's see

Its all Pomp, a stomp and

circumstance, a moody glance,

filigree thin for you and me

see, say, saw a law

a physical must, a gust,

of god breath, death and

Life, strife and the

sacrifice

So at the alter I falter

friend, an end, a means

both, sometimes it seems,

but a dream, a sheen, a shine

sublime, divine and prime,

Indivisible, but for one and itself

a book on the shelf, for sooth she said,

the truth she said, a booth, a phone

a dusty tome, a connection selection,

perfection, a confection

a broken bread, name the dead

flesh and lead, flesh and lead

a spear here, and then a crown

of thorns, storms above, a form forlorn

a crucifixion fixation,

a burning stake, let them eat cake

waves of humanity, preaching come

and see, the eleven O'clock service

Our Religion is driven by

a piece of steel, driven fierce

by heel and hammer hold

by morals, drifting mold, and

hanging moss, a choking loss,

in sanctuaries bold canaries sing

deadly gasses, masses pander,

to get a gander, at the machine,

a slate clean, cleaner

a misdemeanor, venial sin

come on in if, born again

the lynchpin pulled, the fold

undone, a setting son, the son

is gone and a cooling world

unfurls...

Because we took the truth and

with constant use abused it,

bruised it, a subtle light

held tight will burn and

scald even when dim, so

our prophet tiny tim was

right, bless us tonight for

the night is long and dark

without maker's mark, so

stark and empty, no empathy

spared, no sympathy cared enough

to break their own heart,

no man damned his own earth,

his hearth, to prove

his worth to mother machine and

father time, a bastard son of

words and grime a word

edged, all bets hedged,

the last ledge stepped and our

only promise kept, the reason

it ends in ice not fire

Like Frost's desire, when

warm would suffice, syllables slick and

slime, a word, a thought, hope in

this mind, but damning still

after all this time, the

true falsetto, and the fake

truth serum, the holy grail,

and the epic fail, a tale so

old it's growing stale, but opened

colorful before infant eyes, told from

teeth green with ancient lies, sprung from

philosophers in loving guise

a word, a curse,

Peace.