10 commandments as translated by Sir Isaac Newton
the two huddled across a fire and finishing each other’s sentences like
“faith of the matter is…” and “matters of love require facts”
elemental passion and burning selflessness
like two kids huddled over a chemistry set
Law 1: “for every action
there is an equal and opposite reaction”
so stop being catalysts
laying amidst turmoil
coming out unchanged
learn to burn self
come on in
get warm
grab a seat by the fire
maybe it will catch
Isaac’s still kinda hazy on the plan
“i’m nervous. past tense
thinkin’ about where we’re headed
agape doesn’t pull like gravity.
not quite like it used to”
Almighty answers
“I still do” and proceeds to pray
“My children who art on Earth…”
recall,
I fashioned up mountains in a gesture
burgeoned trees in a breath
and cultivated land in a moment’s nictate
all to have it swallowed by faultlines
burned to ashes and blown away by the wind
yet I move before you in whispers
I urge you listen.
I move through forces of nature
without forcing my nature
by the looks of things
you’ve taken that cross upon yourself
slow to listen, quick to speak
toxic sustenance, and spin that I AM into
My name in vain insertion
not slowly dripping with disdain
force-fed with pain
full squeezes of scripture
from tongues of the righteous
all done in My name.
all three of Me.
amen.
a man
left to spill over what was
right fully His seated like glory
a love overturning for this
world turning
that HEma
globin spinnin
and spurted out in the outline of the Philippines
rollin down these arms, catch, drip
and pooled into the shape of Africa
we have continents at our fingertips
Pangaea parlance broken down into 2,287 languages
yet still haven’t learned to poorly piece them back together in
vernacular of spiritually illiterate
“My children who art on Earth…”
I’ve become sick with our standard of living
vomiting projectile Pollocks of dreams of
my best intentions
dry heave these contractions of castles in air
of heirs of a greater tomorrow
seize up until there’s nothing left
but residue on my lips and all I can do is
spit the truth
I stopped going to church because I’m cynical of the synagogue
tired of watching women and children be beat
so I drop a new one
I over turntables
and I overturn tables
spilling coin phrases of
reverence for business
like building New Edens
for only half of you
lynching another’s lineage
from the tree of the knowledge of good and evil
left Holliday singin about Strange Fruit
like gambling souls,
selling shit for truth, and
catching diseases of identity crisis
this is not what I made you for.
have you forgotten who you are?
I wrote it down for you.
read up
into my eyes
‘cause I see clearly
I know who I AM
I AM
Jehovah Shammah
Jehovah Shalom
Jehovah Rophe
Jireh
Mekeddeshem
Rohi
Nissi
Sabaoth
Tsidkenu
I burn for you. like a monk
silent, on fire
I ignite to protest. profess
love. I AM.
I AM Present. bring you Peace. Heal with words. Provide, especially through Sanctity. Shepherd you
I warn you of sheep who act as wolves
dressed in black ties and
equipped with 66 leather bound books
they use as baseball bats
and home plate pulpits
if they’re not swingin
they’re carrying around measuring tape
comparing you with their “me”
sizing up
measuring your in seam
to see if you’re tailored
to shoulder unwanted burdens
don’t you dare follow
suit
“My children who art on Earth…”
minds created as time machines
gliding over the
past searching the present
into futures of
local horizons lined with elegant promissory notes
written In a dialect of prayer and surrender
empty pews exhausted to
fill street corners to
build corner stones
laid for altars or beds
whatever helps you sleep at night
this is how we build the new church
break hearts like bread
Last Supper toast to gravity
let’s fall for each other again.
until then, I still Am.
amen.
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