Allergic

Collectivism’s connoisseurs
Vaccinated by degree
Immunized provocateurs
Allergic now to liberty

Realities fantastic

Fictions are becoming real,
Realities fantastic.
Mr. Smith’s they come and go,
Within each spirit plastic.

Collectively they neutralize
Each other hand in hand,
Tyranny’s majority,
De Tocqueville’s reprimand.

His property

Uniformed in discontent,
Imprisoned so, ingrown, undone.
Outside of him our hearts are bent,
Diversified, each other shun.

Distinctive when in Him we’re found,
Alive in Him, true liberty,
Members of His body bound,
Restored to Him, His property.

Hands up

As a statue in a trance,
Snap a shot of self surrender.
Part your legs and raise your hands
As your privacy we render.

Silent as we run you through,
Underneath your underpants,
It’s the least that you can do,
Your only value’s tolerance.

Seems as

License seems as love
When living as a knave
But liberty’s part of
The law the Master’s made.

Licensed

When freed from God’s will,
We’re licensed to kill.
When freed from God’s Son,
We’re licensed to run,
Naked in space,
Around, or in place,
Lost with no head,
Freed, but still dead.

Room to speak

Room to speak
Closing in.
Walls of talk
Round me spin.
Words dispersed
Fill me in,
Jammed my verse,
Stilled again.

On checkerboards chaotic

On checkerboards chaotic,
Go knights upon the board,
As rulers grown despotic,
Go quietly ignored.

Touch the tree

Touch the tree your oughta be.
Trade God for idolatry.
Loosed from liberty you’re free,
Admitted to your slavery.

To Peter King

My TV lessoned me
Regarding liberty
Of this I sing.
Uniformed snipers hide,
Cameras on collars ride,
Must pledge my schizophrenic pride
To Peter King.

My TV’s spreading fear.
Isis indeed is near.
Where can I go?
Irregular alert,
Nuclear that would hurt.
Trucks sanitation filled with dirt
We’ll overflow.

Lone wolves now hide and seek,
Too smart for our critique.
Our trust they steal.
Paranoid best we be,
At home with our TV,
Believing every lie for free,
Reality unreal.