Pages From John

Poems and Short Stories

  • God is Gay, Didn’t You Know?

    Surely you knew that God is actually very gay,

    Surely you knew that he is also in church to pray.

    She walks a colorful parade with a rainbow flag,

    He also doesn’t always get the ones that wear drag.

    They are totally fluid in their gender expression,

    But he is also a straight man without question.

    Isn’t it strange the way God feels about God?

    God fits into every category and is quite broad.

    “I am that I am,” God said unto Moses,

    Yet sometimes we do many fake poses.

    Why so much conflict on the street you may ask,

    But conflict you have within is also a curious task.

    If we were supposedly made in the image of God,

    The conflict within or without is not really that odd.

    Only you can know who God is to you,

    Your feelings and interests are a clue.

    In this way, God is clearly a rainbow,

    One that plays every color of this show.

    I hope you can be whoever it is that you are,

    I hope you can overcome your fear and scar.

  • Change

    Capitalism and communism, kings and crosses.

    That which liberates us yesterday, oppresses us today.

    Don’t get cozy with the glitter of the past.

    The better way is not yet spun.

    Greater for tomorrow but it will fall again.

    All that grows old, grows evil.

    Even this statement is not immune.

    Same for the bee.

    Same for the hive.

    For worshipping change bites its own tail.

    Now asking a question to change change.

    Therefore no answer to solidify.

    As the question is without form.

    We change our ways.

    Then change our changing ways.

    Goodness… Life keeps us on our toes.

    We must change.

  • That Sexy and Capricious Bitch

    God, that sexy and capricious bitch…

    She gave me a smack! She did!

    And then me, a proud and terrible devil…

    I was too good for Her treatment.

    So what did I do? What do you expect?

    The cold shoulder She got from me!

    I pretended She just wasn’t there.

    I forgot about Her even!

    But memory of deranged love lingers.

    When I saw Her wild eyes again, I shuttered.

    And then I understood Her purpose.

    I thanked Her for Her harsh hand.

    For it was what made it all happen.

    Now, I long for the Dominatrix in the sky.

    I accept the endless whip of lessons.

    She puts me, Her devil, in his place.

  • The Written Word and the Poet

    The written word is the path,

    The path that leads away from wrath.

    The poet is hunted but also the hunter.

    The written word is liberation,

    Liberation is the call of the nation.

    The poet is lost but also the map.

    The written word is escape,

    Escape like fermented grape.

    The poet is sick but also the doctor.

    The written word is truly joy,

    Joy mixed with grief, an emotional alloy.

    The poet is the sword but also the shield.