Fighting with god

I stood in front of the gates of heaven,

my path lead me down the stairway to hell

presented with the choice

to turn back down to hell and meet

my own people

friends and men, I called pal.

“What if hell

is just a concept

to keep your desires in check?”

a eleven year-old boy

once asked on a church bench on Christmas eve

and the savior

hung around and looked down on him

and watched carefully

for the boy’s had up his sleeve

A cunning boy

who later had read Nietzsche

felt smarter than they all did

but if you grow older

you might understand

Doubt is good and doubt is right

if there is none;

nobody cares

what a grain of sand says.

I am small on

asphalt field so wide,
and walking plains

I want to see every corner of

but who knows what’s hiding in the night;

waiting in the off.

The shadows don’t terrify me

– maybe, they should?

Darkness is plenty here;

Instead let’s laugh, because what a bore this world would be

if it was empty

in the dark;

what a loose to fuckin’ art.