awaiting liberation

who'd say it

who'd spit that word "liar" out

clenched behind false teeth

biting themselves to avoid release

for it's a lie

spoken with grace and deliberation

that the detractors fool 

with the trembling in their throats

what assurance!

i am betrayed

and sulk like soaked peas 

waiting to be thrown into the pot

a prisoner of incompetent words and thoughts

a diagram of dismembered smarts

words were said

there stiletto-style stuck to subjects without verbs

incomparable sounds against truth

while it's truth i desire

i long for freedom now

bound in the throats of liars

diverting it to the killing fields

where the lovers of death yet dwell

zombies fixed on harm and shame

and the burden of gross falsification

while i lay here still

a bound body

sweating beneath the heat of breath

filled with untruths that slay with skill

awaiting the liberation that truth would bring

even though in prison i die 

*Our personalities and individuality's, along our dysfunctions and the like, make life interesting, 

frightening and humorous.  No wonder God loves us.

*All of our heroes have mud on their feet.     

*When Sister Death arrives, we'll be ready.  She's the only Way to go.

*Reflection of Alan Jones:

  -Graham Greene offers us three distinguishing marks of the believer.  First, the believer has an uneasy conscience, and so is incapable of committing atrocities (however minor) with equanimity.  Second, the believer identifies with all human beings - the good, the bad and the indifferent - and thus is an unlikely candidate of totalitarian seduction.  Finally, the believer has a certain capacity for disloyalty - disloyalty to existing arrangements, to the principalities and powers.  The believer is not good at the usually excuses.  The phrase "I was obeying orders" would stick in the throat of the believer.  The Nazi war criminal Adolf Eichmann, has become the exemplar of this unimaginative obeyer of orders from above.  He was pronounced perfectly sane; and as Thomas Merton has pointed out, "It is the sane ones, the well-adapted ones, who can without qualms and without nausea aim the missiles and press the buttons that will initiate the great festival of destruction that they, the sane ones, have prepared."