In the vein of Sir Richard that had scrambled with words the gray matter of our Jerry's head...LOL...and remembering all the babbling politicians trying to say something...but what?
Open the obvious door leading to the room of surprises
can’t we see the silly games the gods are playing on us?
and yet, naiveté, we forge ahead on an incredible path
where tollbooths only accept tears made with helplessness.
Grandiloquence of preachers warning about Gods wrath
forgetting perhaps God’s love among their scrawniness
of and existence without the flesh of reality, just a dream
to be to voice of the One which never needed wordiness.
Ludicrous words is the weapon of the snake oil charlatans
that tricked the obvious superstition of mind’s wobbliness,
when their ground were just a voodoo collection beliefs
that twisted all God’s giving reason of man’s objectiveness.
Them, those idols with clay feet on heroes marble pedestals
who are “them”?, a figment of fractal going consciousness,
an ergonomic puzzle that will never fit in our expectations,
our bones will tell that they will survive our worthlessness.
Serendipitous, those that had a first class ticket to Valhalla
and the ones that can avoid underworld Hades shadowiness,
where three head Cerebus will feed on unsuspecting preachers
that will bully men in the name of His one non exiting Hell.
Talk in many tongues, like a multilingual Babel born snake,
a mouth full of angry words trying to sound winsomeness,
like grammatical Sirens luring a Ulysses like naive readers
with double meanings of inexplicable thesaurus abstractness.
I will close now the non-window of the deaf eremite cavern,
that sits on a dictionary devoid of letters and objectiveness,
white pages that an illiterate soul tried to wrote to posterity or
perhaps for a blind analphabetic man that understood it…less.
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