Theokosmos | Eric Costa



Entries Tagged as 'Poetry'

Deceit

February 24th, 2008 · No Comments

I am somebody
because
I am lovable
because
I am good enough
because
I can be good
because
I want to be good
because
I have to be good
because
I want love
because
I am not loved
Because
I disbelieve God
because
I despise God
because
I want to be God

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Tags: Musings · Personal · Poetry

Honesty

January 9th, 2008 · 3 Comments

Time to turn over
a new leaf
he thought
Honesty
is the best policy
he thought
(People like
honest people)
he really thought
“Do you have
a cigarette?”
asked the street kid
One
he thought
My last one
he thought
(Damn that kid)
he really thought
“Sure”
he said
Guess that’s just
the price of honesty
he thought
Feels good
he thought
(Wish
that
damn
kid
hadn’t
taken
my
last
cigarette)
he
really
thought

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Tags: Musings · Personal · Poetry

Arrest (Audio)

March 28th, 2007 · No Comments

Click here to download the mp3 of Arrest and listen.
Narrated by Robert Bruce

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Tags: Audio · Poetry

Arrest

March 28th, 2007 · No Comments

I know, I’m not very creative. Not only do I need serious inspiration to even make my poor attempts at “poetry,” but I must resort to blatant thievery, stealing material from conversations with The Great Robert Bruce. And it still turns out like this…
Arrest
What do you do
when arrested by
steel cuffs clapped on the wrist bone?
her [...]

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Tags: Poetry

KnifeGunPen Bullseye

August 16th, 2006 · No Comments

Robert Bruce nailed it with this one.

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Tags: Poetry

Confession

June 16th, 2006 · No Comments

Bruised knees
beset and overwhelmed
by guilt
lack of self-control
desire for self-righteousness
a cacophony of thoughtsandimagesandalltoomildrepentance
And he picks out
the whimper
for relief
from myself
it doesn’t come from
feeling bad enough
chanting the right mantra
pleading the right bargain
The Son is forced
upon my mind
and my heart
clears
right
up

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Tags: Poetry

The Righteous and the Wicked

February 5th, 2006 · No Comments

The Mountain
looms up
beyond the horizon.
The wasteland howls.
The chaff is driven
here
and there.
The seed falls to the ground
and dies,
but is not shaken.
The sapling stretches up,
planted by a stream
flowing from
The Mountain,
which looms a little closer.
The tree forgets the howling
when the shadow of
The Mountain
falls across its leaves.
But the chaff is always driven
here
and there.
The Mountain
looms closer,
but still beyond the horizon.
The [...]

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Tags: Poetry