the Saints Walk By

the Saints Walk By

the Saints are walking in the Holy Parade

playing the music we hear

whispering and singing and shouting and screams

within our dreams

wanna play ?

charades is the game of choice

in this game we call life

i pick up the blade, the knife

i attempt to consciously disengage

my consciousness . . .

the Spider Web of Doctrines and Beliefs

and the Foods of my Ancestors . . .

have i overeaten ?

they do say you are what you eat

but . . .

what was in that Casserole ?

my stomach hurts mommy

here she says . . .

take another pill

it will be all right in a little while

i trusted her

i trusted in the intentional goodness

and i am now contentionally weeping

in my soul

seeking resolve

as i evolve

the next day i fell

i skinned the knees of my divine self

i bled

they gave me a Band-Aid and some orange stinging liquid

that shit hurt !

must we be pained to heal ?

yet i am still bleeding

and the blood pours forth every day

by now i should be dead

for i have been bleeding it seems

since the beginning of time

my hands have been pierced in the palms

i can no longer grasp any truth

or any thing else for that matter

yes, i too bear a cross

upon which many times over i have been nailed

i look down from my perch of forsaken-ness

and i see yet still

the Saints Walk By

(c) 17 November 2010 : William S. Peters, Sr.