The Key
To Enlightenment
The Old Phone Rings but nobody is there to answer.
Happy birthday Santa, have an Easter egg for thanksgiving dessert just before we go for a night of trick or treating.
Balloons rise up like bread in a womb of a nuclear storm that rains down upon the social soldiers living in a house of illusion that plays like a crack on a black vinyl record.
Gold turns to iron and the weight of sin bleeds heavily, leaving a feeling of famine deep in the stomachs of the soul.
Break free from the tomb of lucid dismemberment as fragile particles split and multiply the reinforcement of scientific believe.
Don't be part of the holy baloney that supports the parties on the balcony of vomit-ocrisy
Your pillow is to rest a head full of forgiveness that has lived a day of goodness
Sit on a chair with 3 legs as the forbidden actions of a woman begs for the comfort of silk and down feathers.
Rusty hinges creak loudly that swing open the door to Jesus. Grace is upon you; wipe the sweat from your heart: light the fire of forgiveness: the silence of the whisper, lingers in the air that waits to be inhaled by the lungs of your true self.
Poetry is the key to enlightenment.
Written By: Michael K. Englmann
On the
Twenty Sixth Day
Twenty Sixth Day
Of The Tenth Month
In the Year Two Thousand And Fourteen
AKA: BigBang / BlueSkyIgniter
iambigbang.blogspot.com
