Monday, November 19, 2012

Guest Post


By Jeremiah Walton

The Opiate Souls pop open orange bottles as if peeking through The Door to God and observing the celebration of Himself and the prison of reality

The Door creaks opens only to trap curious junkies, try to take your eyes away!

The Hungry Souls groan overfed but still lick the dark roofs of their mouths in anticipation of the next meal

The Alcoholic Souls plunge their tongues in drinks, blindly looking for the glass's bottom

The Poetry Souls crunch small chips of prose together claiming creativity and divine unity

The Suited Souls play gold violin strings singing Holy Hymns of income

The Emaciated Souls rub dirty finger tips together imagining violins

The Watered Souls bloom spiritually, not desiring question of where the water comes from

The Dry Souls question and seek answer, where does the water come from?  who desires to soak life into our roots?

The New England Souls bucket foliage to sell to Southern Souls

And the Southern Souls ceram wrap tobacco to sell to the New England Souls

The Traveling Souls exchange stories for drinks in bars

The Platonic Souls bath in the river naked but do not touch each other

The Door Hinge Souls creak and God's eyes are on us

an excerpt from To Your Health: Humanity's Diagnosis