Padre de los Padres

those on earth who hold the most expose us every hour
so why should I lean down and bow for a god who has all power

compete in song and architecture, and lock your gilded doors
you can feed the world but you'd rather bleed it for His wars

this is not some outside view, a pointed finger from afar
I am a preacher's son who one by one will show you every scar

there is a machine shaped like a cross that's gutted out our history
in the name of love and righteousness and filling out the mystery

indoctrinated by those men who taught me how to hate
look down upon those other "them" who question and debate

"love each other" oft gets lost among the many sins
no faithful care to count the cost so long as their side wins

twelve men feared a storm at sea, annoyed he calmed the waves
but millions die by tsunami, and Jesus doesn't save

Dubito

Some thoughts bleed deep into these streets like raw meat
Soap scum of good intentions undone by the stink of flesh in heat
Reap the seeds of trees before they can creep toward the sun
We crave to be numb then flood our veins with feelings
Sawed off shot guns
And the shells
Hells we make for ourselves encapsulate a welling up of hope
Questions, interjections, emotions like tugboats pulling terms like also
Even though, who knows… 
Afloat along songs sung behind doors flung 
Dusty carpets out of antique stores
Ideas too age when paraded around, sanded down, or marinated
With too much praise ignored by bored borders scored with sores
Sage advice waged against the weight of loan debt
Grad caps fall back down
Even if our young adulthood hasn’t quite hit the ground yet
So absorb this concept quick, get bit like horse shit lifestyle revelations
From the espresso-sippin’ hipster babies to the CEOs runnin’ nations
All the pale folk gather in a square, stay fair, unfair
Never dare recognize with our bright blue ignorant eyes
Catch me by surprise with any mention of pretension
Like humanity was a sunburnable invention
Hackin’ trees like beats, we beat down
But don’t mean our own presumptions
Men of earthenware expectations, crackpot assumptions

Why we battle each other, our mothers, not nature, and hate ourselves
Rather let’s gather as many lights as we are able
Remember to let you pick the menu not just sit at the table
Maybe unstable, each leg set up on wild whims
Beginning to concede your needs are sorely underachieved in meeting
And time can’t close the doors that history keeps beating

But if I believe in anything, maybe anything believes in me
And if my past is a labyrinth I ain’t havin it with these minotaurs
Minicars crashin the ashen lanes of bashful brains
Where do I stop and you begin
And wherefore is the line, why I resign my mind’s bolder sin
Shades of tethered thin skin, illuminate
Backlit wounds we can’t exaggerate
I’ll age in my madness, rage out of cages built in sadness
Devote the tragic to magic habits
Like “love one another” and “give peace a chance”
Dance, dance Ponyboy