Sheep in wolves’ clothing
Alone in the natural spirals
A delicate peace teetering
In a time when hate’s gone viral
A profound wilderness
With the Shepherd long forsaken
Truth & reason at risk
With Faith’s foundations shaken
Does compassion still exist
Love faltering/dreams now monochrome
The Devil removing his mask
Once he’s comfortably at home
Oh, where does our journey end
Or begin, as it so often might seem
Futile attempts to erase the past
The unknown details of our dreams
The open road panders to a false escape
The mere opportunity to rewrite a sojourn
Jesus perambulating with Uncle Walt
Debating the path; perchance to learn
Shaky prospects in apportioned time
Manifest destiny teases Ginsburg & Kerouac
Further roads leading to ornate wisdom
& we keep it concealed out in the back
Thoreau mocking society with his solitude
Knowing alone is the greatest we could ever be
Thoughts come to us in gentle waves
That perhaps our visions should become the sea
A reinterpretation of westward expansion
Route 66 cross-contaminating Highway 61
All roads have never led us home
Emily tempting Death with her life left undone
The growing wisdom of our consumed space
Emerson’s penning pre-revolutionary blues
Introducing our souls to unrefined grace
The Good Lord providing Her unfiltered muse
Feeble humanity; lost across the tracks
Original sin that we’ve taken on the chin
Sifting thought; we might be welcomed again
But knock off the Devil’s dust before you come in
Emerging from the night of lost souls
A rough morning with make-up in your eyes
Playing with fire when you dressed like Hell
You believed the Devil when he whispered his lies
Another exhilarating night of sin extinguished
But your heart now belongs to the man of flames
You don’t remember how your dress got burnt
Or how your lovely chest was branded with his name
Image by Анастасия Гепп from Pixabay
You think you need
Everything polished and packaged
Nary a wisp nor a stray note to linger
Jealousy breeds contempt
Searching for digital praise
But perfection is a myth
A trick played upon us by lesser Devils
Incomplete rants are broken thoughts
Antique shutters dangle in the breeze
Vaccinated by expired truth serums
Eye twitches; our hostess is ill at ease
Yet remaining upright on the page
Our fate wrapped in a trickster’s charm
Subtle strokes without remorse
Only dried ink leaves us disarmed
Subverting all the easy answers
Sacred is our fundamental right to choose
However your speculations drift
Cut the devil’s throat and wrap him in Winter’s hues
I can’t swim that far
No use for a sailor like me
Floating with the jetsam
Without the pomp or jubilee
This grey cell rocking
On each & every wave
At the whim of nature
I pray for Jesus to save
A daily grind in hell
No time for witty quips
This a mere life raft
For the Devil’s Flagship
Captain Q 