Commentary

In The Name Of Jesus

Jesus said, turn the other cheek
Was Jesus…weak?

I’m starting to think Jesus was just a weakling. A lot of what he says is pussy shit

I mean take away divine superpowers and he’s just a pushover.

I’m just thinking out loud man. These aren’t my final thoughts on Jesus. Just a few.

Jesus said, turn the other cheek
Was Jesus…weak?

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Poetry

A Rare Opportunity

Jesus was like.. if I forgive you
You’re just gonna go do the same shit all over again

Is that true, I asked myself
Am I just gonna do the same shit all over again

Jesus was like, you know…you’re not gonna believe this but I was kind of like you once

But all the bad shit I did, he continued, you’ll never read about in the Bible. Even though I told the apostles to include all the bad shit I did. But I guess they were insistent on making a saint out of me. But anyways, I’m guilty of many of the things I preached against. I don’t feel like getting into the details right now…Well…I’ll tell you one…one time I was walking around Nazareth and I saw a merchant drop a coin. He noticed it not. And I picked it up and instead of returning it to him…I kept it…

Wow, I said.

That night I changed my mind. I went looking for him. For days and days and I could not find him. My chest grew tight as I began to doubt whether I’d ever be able to right my wrong. I walked home after every search in the most dejected mood.

Never will I find him, is what I thought. I gave up. But a faint hope in me kept me vigilant, keeping an eye out for him at every turn. At the time, I wished for nothing more than to find this man.

Weeks later, I was walking home. I had just delivered a chair to a long-time client. The sun was hot like a burning cactus and I was drowning in my own sweat. A man tapped me on the shoulder and said, excuse me, is this your coin?

I was frozen in shock. He looked at me odd. And I said, no, it is yours.

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Poetry

ARTIST.

I always wanted to be an artist
I aspire to put the ist in art
To bare my soul till I hold
A listless heart
In the heart of Christmas it transformed
Into the Christmas heart
I’m possessed by Christmas
I obsess over Christmas
The Artist Christmas, call me that now
The Artist vows, to never power down
Taste the sour sounds of an artist in his prime
Yes, I think life is divine…so?
I got me a dime hoe who
Motivates the artist, true
The Artist paints red when he’s feeling
Blue
Woo-hoo when I’m writing
It is exciting
The Artist Christmas
The Artist Christmas is writing

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Journal, Religion

I Remember When I Met…

I died and went to heaven
Jesus was like, goddammit Jose. I’m sending you back…I don’t like how you went out
Aww man. But I don’t wanna go back
Well. You’re not staying here.
Come on. Pleeeassse.
Listen. Either I send you to Hell or you go back to Earth. Your choice.
Man…fuck you Jesus! Well, not really. I’m just mad right now.
I know. I forgive you. Now please. Go back. And come back to me on better terms.
Ok Jesus.

Well…what are you waiting for?

Can I hug you, Jesus?
Of course you can.
*I hug Jesus*

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