Behind the Biblical,
wow, is that real?
Challenges,
let’s not escape from that.
Never get to say it:
the worth in the characters in the Bible are real.
They had time on earth.
How do we listen to them?
Not through their own venue.
We’re encountering the past.
It has weight today,
relevance,
but it’s not our lives today.
Humanity hadn’t reached that far,
to understand more in life than the tall tale,
and fairy tales still ruled the day.

We believed them.
They made us mad.
They got our goat.
They made us worship the sun
and put deities in trees.
We abided by them,
thinking the world a magical place,
air tight,
and no laws apply.
The moon could stand in your living room,
and decapitated heads could talk.

We listen to them today
out walk our sun,
conspiracy daylight.
A bunch of Democrats
extract from children and child sacrifice
some blood elixir,
and this is their insulin for the day?
And do pedophiles rule the world?
Do you know how mad that is?
It’s from the Middle Ages.
It shows a huge decline in the population
in critical reasoning skills.
It’s moonbeams,
lunacy,
and so many Christians believe it.

They can’t get their fantasy straight.
They don’t know what it is,
all the magic in the Bible,
and we come down to miracle.
Does it exist?
Everybody’s seen it
down through the ages
in every culture on earth.
Miracles happen,
but they’re not the order of life.
They are rare instances of great change
in some little module or another,
a superseding a nature for a moment.
They happen and they don’t happen.
So much gets mixed in folklore
the impossible our daily ride,
and it’s quite possible
we hallucinated a lot
in times past,
even on a mass scale.
A consciousness change did that,
gave us reason to guide our lives
and put out the great eye of the cyclops,
Poseidon’s son,
so that we would no longer drink from dream and vision
right out there under the sun.
They receded underwater,
and the subconscious withdrew into its cage.

We tarry there now,
not even believing in dream and vision
and not knowing how to open it again
so it doesn’t swallow us.
That’s the crux of the matter.
I have held a telltale shark
in this escape hatch.
I am swallowed by dream and vision.
I mean it guides my inner life,
disrupts.
It surround me,
and I have to know how to negotiate it.
I spend half my time there.
It’s loud, and it’s free,
liable to take you anywhere,
and it’s costly.
It plays with your mind all the time.
You have to keep it in check.
You can’t just let it run amok,
and you can’t believe everything it says,
shows yah.
So much of it’s a lie,
a representative figure shown on a screen a moment
that’s followed your fancy,
your fear.
It scares the hell outta you.
It tears you apart,
and it gives so much hope.

You learn these are lies
to mess with you.
You learn discernment,
and you’re dealing with creatures more intelligent than you.
Jung will get you goin’ a long ways:
this is just all inside your head,
and your head is much bigger than you know,
but I’m sorry there are cosmic creatures,
angels and demons and Gods and Goddesses
and a whole host of nature spirits and world voices
and a whole bunch more.
You can communicate with the cosmos.
It communicates with you.
So you sit in the cosmic consciousness
and learn how to handle it.

You see miracle there.
You see it every day,
because the future is in your dreams there to discover
every single day,
and the hearts of men and women are laid bare,
everybody that touches your life
that you need to know about,
and the great world engines are revealed to you
and secrets no one knows,
but there you are a pauper in your room
of no value to the world.
It doesn’t make you rich.
You’re dealing with symbols,
representation,
fairy tales to most people.
No one understands the science
of dream and vision,
and I have gotten it down to a science
in my room.
Will you blast me for it?
We will see.

You’re stupid you know
when it comes to showin’ us the times,
men and women who are beyond their time.
They are persecuted or ignored,
made fun of
and sometimes killed.
I have been ignored and cast aside,
like being in an eye of a storm.
I must show you what I see
because I couldn’t live with myself if I didn’t.
I have divine beings breathing down my neck,
and do you know how smart they are,
how well they can manipulate our kind
to get their packages done?
I shoot the bird at them all the time,
but I get my job done,
and I resisted this poem last night,
but it haunted me this morning,
and I gave in.
I submit it to what,
several people?
Great world pretend,
oh well here I am again
crossin’ paperwork
and understanding a poem.
Do we just sit here and call snakes?