Ther Vine Keeper

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Friday, March 29, 2013

my Easter looks like this

my Easter looks like this

sometimes we act out the role
of that helpless Toddler
of our World

our Diapers are soiled
and need a changing

the Urine
and other things we Piss and Moan about
while hoping for a miraculous change
has soured and transmuted
into a caustic flavoring
encapsulating our existence

and like the Ammonia it produces
it is slowly burning the skin
from our delusions

we are no longer comfortable
with the way things are
are we ?

our caretakers
the Pharisaic Parasites
no longer
have a negligent eye

they have NO EYE
that remotely resembles nor cares
or concerns its self
about the charge it, they were elected
to keep

and the people, the children weep
while looking for that Saviour promised us

and our keepers of the Throne
treat us as the Drones that we are
and they just keep on doing
what they “Will”
caring not for the people
the children
nor the home
we must all endure

for as the Gods they think themselves to be
they do what they “Will”
any damn time they wish

this is my Social Commentary
for the querulous ones
the ones who see no Sun
in their days
for the tainted corrupt ways
takes away all of our shine
and there is nothing . . . NOTHING
passive nor sublime
about this

like Cyndi Lauper says . . . .
“time after time”

our life rhymes are forced
and of course
we need this brief reprise
to give some semblance of hope
to adorn our eyes
and our dreams
with unrealized possibilities
and potentials
of what may come to be

i pray our Children do not reflect
our image, our Sums
but as they say
“The Apple does not fall far from the Tree”

So i ask . . . what kind of Tree are we ?
What Fruit do we bear ?

Am i to be cursed as that Fig Tree upon the Road
that feeds not the Hungry ?

Careful . . . the Stranger may be thy Saviour
so Save me my Brethren
Save me my Lorde
from my self !

Lorde please help us to see the “Way”
because this day
that comes upon us
we must crucify someone
and my hands
my feet
can no longer hold any nails
for the meat on my bone
is frail and lacking substance

when will we too be resurrected
and rise above
our difficulties
our challenges
our will-less-ness

we the people
the sheeple
like i, like you, like we
who know not what we do ?
what are we going to do know . . .
humph . . .
continue sitting at the foot of that cross
and watch and jeer
and cheer
as we go about the letting
of our blood
and that of others
our Sisters
our Brothers
throughout Creation ?

is it done yet ?

Progenitor, Father of all things
we come to you
requesting you visit upon us
Your Grace
and may that be sufficient.
for i am tired

my Easter looks like this.

© 29 March 2013 : william s. peters, sr.

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