CrazyMore – the son.

The hills are silent. So is the wind.
Mary Marilyn has been contemplating her fate.
It’s not her fault that she’s beautiful and friendly
that she now bears the seed of an Imam.
She searches high and low for a docile man
to marry, be protected and to deceive.
As she puts her hook on Joseph,
she thinks it’s a good deal indeed.
The Imam tracks her down and askes for the son,
she says, “oh, no, this one belongs to God Himself”.
Imam thinks this to be proper and convenient
and blesses Mary for her piety and chastity.
As for Joseph this he says:
“take care of the baby, or else.”
With the backing of her men,
Mary is happy, her baby well taken care of.
The Imam decides to call their son “Jesu,
because, you know, why not?”
As time goes, Jesu rebels,
it’s always “who is my daddy?” everywhere he goes.
Mary and Joseph are deeply concerned
so the Imam keeps lining their purse.
Everyone knows the truth and the Imam’s power,
so they sing the glory of the mighty and pure
while doing deeds that are dark and vile.
Gradually Jesu comes of age,
for some reason, thinks he’s above the law,
as he goes around shooting off his mouth.
Pretty soon, there’re others hanging out,
drinking wines and telling tall-tales.
“It’s not like I know what I’m doing,” he says,
“but it’s all in good fun and stuff.”
But then the road goes tough and people dies,
all the suffering touches Jesu’ heart.
He wants to use his influence for his pals,
that’s when shits start to roll because
only the legitimate can do so-and-so.
His friends scatter and he’s killed
for his Imam father’s dead and luck runs out.
His friends feel sad that the party’s over,
so they take turns writing books about it.
Mary becomes the holy mother and a whore,
one interesting person split into two.
Oh, and they missed another tiny detail:
Mary has been the true Messiah,
she just doesn’t give a shit.

Visitor.

It came to visit last night,
as I laid sleeping in my bed.
Did you meant to wake me up?
Were you watching as I slept?
First came the unease as I felt the chill,
then came the noises all about the room.
Whatever have you touched?
Or were you also startled?
Then the images came,
as I huddled well-aware.
Something’s poking out
maybe trying to tell a tale.
Long white finger’s poking.
Then an attempt at an embrace?
Not just gonna take it, I thought,
so I crossed you out.
Then a warmth spread,
maybe I passed a test.
A peace within as I fell asleep,
and there were no more dreams.