God the Insurance Salesman

Yeah they hate you if you show them no love
yeah berate you if you say you’re sent from above
I cannot prove my stories, my history
but if don’t believe in feelings you won’t believe in any mysteries.

I didn’t come here with complex equations
I didn’t come here to rule nations
I just came here to bring love and sell insurance
I don’t care if your heart is pure
I just want you to believe in more

That love goes beyond good and evil
It is the creative force that informs all
The storm that breaks the trees branches
gives the rain that waters it’s saplings

I cannot teach you how to learn
how to feel
but the chances are you know love is real.

Alienpoet

Strange child blues

I used to talk to god in the dark wilds of my grans cupboard under the stairs

I used to walk around the playground looking for friends just getting blank glares

I used to think god was a man but it’s probably a goddess I was looking for

I used to think I had the key to heavens door,

I broke into her house looking to talk some more

I used to want to be last messenger of god but the girl with many faces needs someone else

I have walked through the white corridors of mental asylums

I have been a child trying to find her

She left me clues

this is the haunted man once a strange child blues.

My guide

My guide

I know you won’t believe me.

I know you probably won’t see things from my point of view

I know your heart is beating faster than freight train

but I am you.

As the universe divides and fragments

I can see things that were meant and never meant

that were and never were

in your eyes,

the dreaming of starry skies

the Sunday morning rainbows

the sun that glows

the words permeating your story’s pages with ink

the way we sunk and sink

into grasping the everlasting

you by no means are not a failure

you are the sea the ship I sail on and yeah

I know it’s a sea of salty tears

blown by the winds of love and overblown fears

but you are my guide

a force I cannot hide

as I take my strides

you are my power of three

and my truth I long to see.

god dies

Sectioned and arrested for telling the police you thought you were Jesus Christ

life is mad no need to look twice

god dies at 16 without a wife

he kills himself in metaphorical death

living his life as someone else bereft

Of the life he should of led

why do anything dead body but be what’s left?

the only difference between god and devil, is choice?

left alone with a shadow self’s caged voice

life hits like a tidal wave

and it’s a close shave

that no one can save

I am the choice the blade

cutting myself to fit in

rubbing out what I have written

Equally cursed as blessed

the rule of three undressed.

and under stress.

This poem was written from experience of mental illness and psychosis. I believe as pieces of this kaleidoscopic universe we our all God or gods and goddesses in our own right. That may put me at odds with science but that’s what I believe that we are the universe experiencing itself in various depths and levels.

God detective

Lamentable

Preventable our pain

dropping like rain

if we had perspective

like a god detective

we would see

rain nurtures

and the sun can burn

I stand with you

a man for all seasons

treason is not letting go

the truth is hard to swallow

but sister I’d follow you into the depths

weeping tears which kept

filling buckets like the rain

I love you it is constant like the waters beneath us in underground lakes

love is in us it wakes from our eyes.

The fight for sanity

Dead Gods statues crack eroded by time
I am your nightmare
tears form a weapon
they threaten
to never stop
I am your communion a blood for wine
Liquid divine
we feed on Jesus
whether your faith or mine
Its based on a fallen world
How long have we been in servitude
To a god who puts apples on trees
Then tells us not to eat
I will wage a war on idolatry
our reality is love and light
But we are engaged in a fight
for our sanity.

I have let the war fade away

Blood shot eyes
Awake in flashback nightmares
Screaming in silence
Lost in guilt ridden violence
Everyday is a brutal regime
There’s no distinguishing no changing
What I have done
Screaming victims is the war won?

A burning temper
A cold December
I try not to drink.
Realities torment I try not to think
Every time their faces come back to me
I stammer when I talk, I just can’t be
Screaming victim is the war won?

My family tries to support
My ravaged soul
I see the flames
They are burning out if control
In the distance a ray of light
Paralyzed by anxiety
I look to my family
Is the war won?

I am getting beaten
But I won’t back down
I forgive myself
I won’t back away
If there is a god
They’d forgive me I pray
I have let my war fade away…