“CLINGING TO CORRUPTIBILITY!” a.k.a.: “Never Knowing What’s Best!” a.k.a.: “STOP SQUIRMING SO MUCH! You’re Distracting Me – – – From My Squirming!” April 2, 2018 – Moon Day.
EVERYONE DOES THE BEST THEY CAN!
That’s why judgment’s a silly plan!
We sometimes try to-watch-what-we-eat,
And, like the man who lives on the street,*
We CLING to our lives with immodest fear,
And figure HOW CAN WE GET OUTTA HERE?
With all our insanity, what’s left intact?
The preacher, at the church, he tries, in fact,
To hold himself-And-his-wife together,**
‘Cause he might just get-a-bit-o’-bad-weather,
Which might force him to-re-consider-his-fai-aith,
And, even–when-atheists-fail, they’ll pray-eth,
To-the-God, to-the-God, to-the-God – of their youth,
Because – we’re frail and mostly uncouth,
As-we-cling, To-our-lives, And-possessions-And-routines,
Fearful and uncertain, IF we’ll have the means,
We (need?) to-get-by, day by day,
It might just vanish,And, we’ll have to pay,
The I. R. S. !!! For – that bonus check,
When-none-of-its-left, So, we’re a wreck:
A wreck, Doing, The-best-we-can,
Just like everyone!- like-the-drinking-man,
Who, every day, goes to our-local-bar,
And asks the bartender: “Jeff,***
Into the bottle must I go,
Before my car, they’ll have to tow?
Before the taxes on my home,
Can’t be paid, So I’ll-have-to roam,
Through the streets, A derelict,
With judges, lawyers and doctors-quite-sick,
From years of prescribing poisoned pills,
For pharmacies (pause) those poison mills?
To the dentist, ****
Who, Just down the street,
Has NRA patches, At his feet!
And THIS, The chaotic stuff of life,
Destroying each family, Which is suffering strife,
Whose members cling to their little phones,
And, in the night, we hear their moans,
Yes, EVERYONE, Fearful – for the morrow,
Some God, With Sorrow!
Hoping that “their best’s” enough,
And clinging desperately to-CORRUPTIBLE-STUFF!
So, shed your tears – and hope for peace,
And hope your civilizations-will-not-cease!
Yes, RESURRECTION-PEOPLE-Claim your due!!
Is-there SOME GOD – a-watching you?
Not-the-one you’re taught about,
This God is sterile – and filled with doubt,
And clings to transitory ways,
And longs for younger, sweeter days!!
This God, IF you would look around,
Feeds the birds and tills the ground,
And does her best, throughout the years,
And has so many hopes and fears!
This God is YOU! and does her best,
To not be hungry – and-to-be-well-dressed,
And pounds his gavel – and plays an I-Tune,
And cries for his family – and barks at the moon,
And, if you strip Her(HIM) and put-her-on-a-cross,
Will he still rise – each year, To floss –
The vile particles, stuck in her gums,
Chewing on TUMS!!
Just crying, when-you-awake-at-night,
From terrifying-dreams, where you’ve lost your “might,”
To even-try-to-do- your-best-and-just-keep-going,
Like this poem, Of NEVER KNOWING!
Well, RELAX YOUR BROWS, You prideful lot,
Of PITIFUL AND POETIC JUSTICE,
Come on – TRUST US!
Try HUMILITY, And smile more,
And-don’t-get-too-excited, If you get poor,
Give hugs to The World, And say a nice word,
Come on! YOU GODS! Feed a bird;
Imagine some God – who’s kind –
Jesus’ message: Perhaps we SHOULD KNOW:
“JUST (TRY, TRY, TRY – to) DO YOUR BEST; LET-IT-BE-SO!” 🙂
* – Hi, Raymond! 🙂
** – Hi, Josh! 🙂
*** – Hi, Jeff! 🙂
**** – Hi, Jay! 🙂
***** – Hi, Y’all! 🙂
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