Poems for the Shit of It by cornfed (read ebook pdf TXT) 📕

/>
I was told as a kid that I was made a certain way
From the dust of the earth
In God’s likeness
To be molded like clay

But to see the world as it has always been
Those who did the most
Who lived a full life
Didn’t follow the rules of their kin

If human is really divine is really human
And God is the likeness of even the least
It seems the “evil” or the “bad”
Is just as much God as the pauper or the priest

How did this country become free?
How did we break away from the chains?
Did we do it with prayer and thanksgiving?
Or did we bleed and see the enemy do the same?

I wonder how many deals were struck in France
By an American statesman
Drunk with wine
In the room with a royal and dropping his pants.

Many a faithful empire have drawn their swords
Facing others in war
To fight for their faith
Their God, to their death, their allegiance is sworn

Can you see God in a hooker?
Does God only flow through a priest?
Would God only be able to reveal to those
Who paid a woman for a piece?

There is nothing wrong with any of us
We are perfect as we are
Until, of course, we do something
That others think are our scars

I cannot say for certain
Where God fits into this all
But that the word All
Describes a God with no walls


Before You Ever Knew He Was There

The Devil’s greatest feat they say
One that the mind can never grasp
Is to convince you He does not exist
And you believing the tale til your last gasp

I remember sitting in Sunday School
And hearing of the Devil’s great plan
To convince Eve His voice was kind
And then ruin Creation for man

And it seems to me as I look at my life
And the struggle of which I have faced
To find God in the middle of this all
Yet not finding anything, not even a trace

I think people got all this wrong
When they say it’s the Devil that hides
I now believe it is God
Who pulls the wool over our eyes

Very few find God by a desperate search
He sometimes shows up when trouble invades our lives
But even when you pray a desperate prayer
God answers in a way to Him you cannot ascribe

I would love to count the number
Of foxhole prayers that were screamed
And run the percentages of how often
Things really went from worse to serene

But I can only sit back and watch
As my life unfolds before me today
And say it is God that has convinced us he is Dead
And yet, if we continue, we find God has stayed.

God is nothing like what everyone has told me
My own encounter is beyond words
So how can I take my daily experiences?
And expect to share them with the world?

I will never know the mystery of this all
I just know that one thing is for sure
I’m surprised when I just let Russ be Russ
By all the Things that wash up on my shore.



What Do I Know?

What is God’s Will for me?
Will it come in a letter?
If God wants it done right
Then He needs to communicate better

“God speaks in the language of the heart”
Or so I hear from the preacher
But my emotions speak the same way
And I don’t think God is in either

“God utters only with a whisper”
“His voice is never a shout”
Then explain how I have heard a loud roar
Casting my “shady” lifestyle in doubt

“God never condemns us at all”
“His voice is a kind and gentle woo”
But they were not there when I got a shout
While looking at porn in a hotel room

“You only see God’s voice in your life
“As you give your life to Him”
Then why does life stand still when I do?
Am I waiting on God’s next whim?

“God only speaks in the Bible”
Now that is horseshit of a large sort
“Slaves remain as you are” as the Bible says
That was not in Dr. King’s godly report

“To know God, you must be spiritual”
Now we’ve come to a place
Where again we take the Unknowing
And turn it into a closed off space

It seems the most useful people in God’s world
Don’t wait for constant direction
They are rebels with a cause
And for that God’s ways are constantly mentioned

My own life has never moved
Til I took God with me as I lept
Faith it seems is proactive
Not just what you call upon after you’ve wept

And I wonder if it matters
What path in my life I choose to take
“Moral or Immoral” living
Don’t seem to affect God either way

I really cannot say for sure anymore
What is God and what is my lot
Except to continue to struggle with the Beast
Of people telling me what God is
And what Russ is
And what the both of us are not.


What Does One Do With Eternity?

The alarm clock wakes me up each day
The one on the wall clicks the day away
My eyes grow tired at the strike of 11 PM
What did I do with my Paradise before then?

The soul lives on, it never cries
The body has about 80 years before it dies
I can earn a living up until my health is gone
I can be nice and sweet to everyone all along

But why in the world should I even count these things?
Why should I try to make it til after the pain?
Why should I even envision the joy of a drink?
With eternity, why should I even think?

There are rules to live by
And there are truths to see
And neither one of them
Match up for me

There is no retirement
There is no religions God
There isn’t even a funeral
At this moment, there is only my dog

The mirage of things floating around
They aren’t really here
This is not really ground
I am just a spirit, living in my own town


Something About Ben and Gold

Soccer moms and their credit cards
Old men and their checks
Internet funds go round and round
The sound of two hands touching never makes a sound

But all that changes when I hand a bill
Crisp, clean, and pointed at each turn
To a person whom has something I need
And something they desire in return

Swiping a card, hearing a machine
Don’t leave me feeling
Spiritual
And Serene

Laying down a bit of gold
Or a bit of Ben
Keeps me smiling
Again and again

They say the love of money
Is the root of all that is evil
Horseshit
It’s that silly teaching that’s the devil

Even the bible talks of gold streets
Pearl homes
Glowing angels
Shiny diamond domes

If we take our life to heaven
Then in my street you will Not find
Credit Cards and Debt Collectors
I only own and spend that which is divinely mine.


What Do I Know?

I used to get up each morning
And kneel down to pray
“God help me with this and that”
And not a word God would say

And then I heard from the preacher
That God only answers unselfish prayers
So I prayed for God to help my uncle
And he died before the New Year

And then I got to thinking
Who the hell made me so tall?
Who am I to say what is righteous and sin?
And if they even exist at all?

I no longer kneel and pray to God
I don’t even call It god anymore
I simply listen to What is being said
And then I find Life unlike any I have known.


Enjoying the Cold

The lessons I learn each day
Are not really lessons at all
It’s more of a re-remembering
Of the beauty within the Christian Fall

Summer requires the cold to exist
The Winter requires the Spring
I require the abilty to relax
And enjoy all that Life brings

It took me til the age of 36
To really enjoy the snow
Today I sit outside in the cold
And look upwards to heaven’s glow

I guess that’s the way life really works
When I look at my last few years
There is no sense in drowning your soul
Into the realm of unconcious fears

I love the snow today
I love building a fire
I love sitting outside without a jacket
And that’s all I got to say
At least for Today


I Really Try

I chased my tail for so many years
I drowned my sorrows
With booze
And a fist full of tears

And then I saw something really true
It crept up on me
Without a warning
Right in the quiet of my bed room

“There is no fear”
“Life is a gift”
“You are eternal”
“Labels do not exist”

Those were the words
I heard that day
And so has been the struggle
In that truth to stay

I should be working right now they say
I should be busting my fanny for more and more pay
I should be killing away the day
Again for more and more and more pay

But I sit by a fire on this beautiful day
The cold to my back
The fire
To my face it stays

I really do try to enjoy my life
I really do get honest with what I like
I really do attempt to live in the day
I really do attempt to live in my own way

I really do try to enjoy the things
Others often call passing flings
I really do try to savor the taste
Of all that is human, no time to waste

I really do enjoy the buzz of a beer
The excitement of sex
The joy of money
The feeling of no fear

I like to walk the naked line
No clothes are required
No morals
Just my spirit entwined

But that leaves me standing alone sometimes
Who else wants to live within my rhymes?
And I don’t see eye to eye
With the lives of most others, although I try

At the end of the day
I really do try
To live with a strut
And be Russ til the day I die

Imprint