Safety Net

Safety Net 

I regret to inform you that there is no safety net

There is no assurance of happiness, prosperity or justice

And although the majority of adults know this to be

The actions of the majority contradict credence in this vulnerability 

As an opportunity to participate in a lottery mentality of juvenile behavior

One in which a parent has beguiled a child into believing that

Good behavior and compliance will result in the ordainment of indulgences

At a later point in time  

The commerce of justice perpetuates under such ruses

As if the emperor ever had the power to resurrect a living Padame

Vader was as enthralled as a boy staring at a Christmas chimney

Awaiting a donkey down the chute or camel at the front door 

The volition of the path of the universe does not have a ranking

As if one man’s fealty is more revered over another’s,

As with all meteors approaching continents from what we arrogantly

Refer to as space, the route of the rock’s descent is not altered  

By the voracity of one father versus another perpetually in prayer

For security approximate to the hearth communicating loyalty to a God

Capable of such an interaction or any in the form of an Oz request

For in this moment science and free will are colliding 

The choice to believe that God could exist, but yet be limited, or

In this instance bedevil a man’s concept of defining concern

Death, scorched earthen fields, sheep crumpled under fallen sky

Thatch roofs ablaze and concrete crumbling into armaments on the West Bank 

Chucked by childish paws thrashing for an outlet

The paradox of time comingling with the walls of birth places

The only destination of prayer is within your own ears

The only destination of prayer is within your own ears

Yet, God exists 

For you are a reverberation of the all and that is all that matters

There is no safety net, there is no savior, but the hands of the all around us

Pray to the how we do here, in the joy of mutual dependence

Work, toil, strive, call, sweat, bleed, farm, seed, learn, speak  

Know that loneliness is a misplaced faith in such dungeons as worship

Or miss-defining humility, it is the highest conceit to believe in a God

That is partial to a book, to a byline, to a story of human construct

To a skin, an orientation, to a rulebook, of meager rituals of oblation

 

And conference to partake in the gall to believe in secretly earned bypasses

To win favor like a victory for obedience as we are still naïve growing children

Suckling a breast or bobbing at father’s shoulder thirsting for his approval  

Did I do well dad?  Did I?

To see God as above or distant or a request clearing house

Is to dine in the buffet of complacency, as if it is another’s job to live one’s life

Each life in disguise of what we are obliged to be, defaulting to a continual

Prayer to be given the strength to do that which we know we must  

As if the strength is segregated, the fibers, the coordination of will

Is all but a confluence less distant than the oxygen in our lungs

Pause and then do, for in these arrogant machinations of worship

You belittle the humility of the God you claim as infallible 

The meek shall be favored, the only priority is the tithe box and

The papal mitre pimp-hat sodomizing the sheep to collect rations

Golden thrones, respect through precious metals, arrogance in the intangible

Industry a church claims to own, cough vomit, where is God, not on it  

Not in the grip of such foolish extravagancies of a throbbing pulpit

The word, the languished reverence to olden stories, wrote memorized

To exempt the scrutiny of the now, as if God ended then,

Interaction measured in the mitigation of sin, the rules, the foundation  

Recompense, from the original and never good enough for some

Curmudgeon asshole God in the sky or benevolent father that will make it all right later

Ha, it was you, it was us, it was me, it was the sum

Of all this planet, the next, the universe, the search,  

The how of now, thumbs out on the interstate, guns to the temple

Syringes to the sick and the self-damned heroine addicts

Money gluttons and cash-starved holding hands and brandishing arms

Cannons and missiles, swords and dismissals  

Of living and dead wars, zombies and sports scores

Gambling with truths, known and the trapeze is whirling

The circus tent is falling and the poles are erect, net is gone

Count the broken necks, not of the fallen acrobats  

But of the audience members staring up, still looking

Content with the notion that there must be another

Who will motion their legs from the impending ceiling

Crash down prayers and their true meaning