After man sinned against God in the Garden of Eden, God punished man. God said to Adam, “Cursed is the ground because of you; in toil you...

And he began to tell the people this parable: "A man planted a vineyard, and let it out to tenants, and went into another country for a...

"Then he said to them, 'These are my words which I have spoke to you, while I was still with you, that everything written about me in the...

What is a mystic? And what does mysticism have to do with the Song of Songs? According to Bernard McGinn, the preeminent scholar of...

When you read the title of this post, you might think: Wow, this guy is against tipping, what a cheapskate. You are right, I am against...

"And forgive us our debts, as we also have forgiven our debtors" (Matthew 6:12). The 1.5 trillion dollar student loan crisis is...

The best musicians of each generation make songs that capture the feelings of the moment. That is to say, true cultural icons sing songs...

At the cliff's edge A feather is found Dipped in some ink On the brink of profound A sound that I think Comes to me from a cloud To make me fly like a bird And shed skin on the ground Flapping and flailing Rapping and wailing A cat who is failing At tailing a rat Falling and screaming A bald eagle meeting Squawking and scheming Their secret attack At the water's edge The tracks are erased Time is reset Nature's backspace To help one forget What has come before Songs of love a

The secrets Guinevere kept from Arthur Were known throughout the land of Camelot. You can hear the peasants whispering the Names Gawain, Bedivere, and Lancelot, Under their breath, gos’ping at the market; Squeezing oranges in a way that’s not Respectable to the queen, whose honor Is destroyed through innuendo about Sexual acts behind the back of her Lord, the great king Arthur, this nation’s heart (The son of Uther, this nation’s father). But it’s a round table now without In

You’re monitoring me But I’m obscuring the screen A scream of primal fury A fine line that I keep Between this high guy And the high-minded elite You may find my rhymes Weak, trite, and incom_____ We may make income think Of change -- delete “plete” From the beat and let the “income” Hang off of the end of the line Without the rhyme needed to keep This poetry in line with time as I speak It’s like I do this for free And my method is fixed I don’t speak carelessly I have preci

To be trapped in a cage with the rage of an animal That hasn’t eaten a thing in days his pain is understandable I demand you let me out – free – and feed me with attention Or I swear you’ll hear a prayer about my destroyed potential My stomach growls I need to eat give me but a morsel Of your collective force of will to read my stories won’t you Of course I cordially invite you all into my special portal Down the rabbit hole where small portions of the proceeds go to The vort

“It was a miracle of rare device A sunny pleasure dome with caves of ice!” -- S.T. Coleridge, “Kubla Khan” And the song without a melody Falls away in the distance Sing, O Muse, of the anger of Achilles Icarus is falling on his face Embarrassed While Hamlet contemplates his madness What is this life? I need "a stately pleasure dome decree" A contract that says my palace will be made As soon as possible But I just nod off and fall Deep into a dream Where my memory fails to rec

It's a song by Tennyson About the end of Camelot King Arthur's got a laurel crown On his brow like Caesar’s got And Lancelot is his Mark Cleopatra is the Guinevere The capstone on the pyramid Is missing and we see it clear We fear the devil and his works Poseidon versus Odysseus Ithaca's so far away And on the way Sirens are heard The lengths we go to The extremes we take To make our lives run Parallel with fate Mephistopheles keeps laughing At Rome and Athens As Manhattan ta

I need silence in order to hear So I am sort of reclusive Inspiration is what I hold dear But my dear it’s elusive Crucified as I sit in my chair I just stare at illusions Shadows and specters and prayers Ride through the air like they’re music I need stillness in order to think But don’t confuse me for stoic The squeaky wheel gets the grease If I hurt then the world will know it I won’t shout it from a mountain Or swim it through the ocean This isn’t the voice of God I’m not

Burning the night oil As I toil away Reading the pages of Ovid’s Metamorphoses Getting lost in the story Exploring each page Waiting for the change To something less fortunate Diana was in her glory Actaeon saw her bathe So she makes him a stag That his dogs tore to bits Narcissus caught a glimpse Of what his admirers crave So he stares into the lake And reflects love for him The laurel leaves grow From the hands of Daphne As she’s chased by Apollo Like a sculptor depicts Pyg

A still life bottle of wine Sits still beside my laptop On top of my desk by the light When will I realize That my whining won't stop I have got to live my life in rhyme I have had my fill of unfulfilled times I decided to disregard that hard lot And stop crying like how a Bacchant cries And instead find my thrills in Apollo's art Parnassian dreams where Calliope's my bride An artsy mind state thanks to the wine and pot Just please don't mind the whiny part When I was figurin

I open the window Let the air in With the noise By Car By Drive By Car By Drives The car drives by The cars drive by Horn Horn! Horns Air brakes And Buses Cabs Buses Trucks More cabs and buses Meter maids with badges And a pad to talk tough with The high-pitched swishy sound Of grocery bags in tree branches-- Holding on for their lives We all make sacrifices We all have our vices Lights flashing and sirens Kids howling all night long Showing violence to silence The exhaust fu

Everywhere I go, Things are exactly how I want them, Because I say what I need to, To get my point across. Sometimes you don't get it, But believe me it's your loss That you're lost when I say things; See, everything's how I want it. I know you're not lost anymore. It's your coming-of-age tale. To no avail, you understand, But I understand your plight. You might set sail To a land never been seen before By man, a new planet 'cause you're way "out of sight." I'm in flight, So

I write a blanket statement To ensure its mass appeal As a trite generalization To cover how I feel All the bridges have been burnt And the foundation that we built Has a crack in it: my persistence To push away the guilt I don't know why I'm so reticent Towards everything around me I just want an even keel Now my feelings are profoundly Under felt it's underwhelming There's no telling what's out there If I'm always so worried about Improbable problems arising I should not ca

I got this provocative Book in my hand, And A nonchalant Look in my eye I understand What I got is this pin code Embedded in my head And a serial number Printed under my mind, Like I'm Being monitored And watched all the time. I'm so conspiratorial I could teach a tutorial On how to be paranoid: Oh no, you hear that noise? Better watch out behind you! You hear a click on the phone? Does your internet freeze? Does your mind play tricks on you? Or is it truth that it speaks? Te