Little Black Books

Little Black Books



Little black books,
With all their nooks-
Wait to trick the human mind.
Like branches from trees,
Or drops from the seas,
Your weakness they wait to find.

They that walked in righteous light,
Drawn above from endless night
Were called again to touch the truth.
Came anxious men and women too,
And them of those who had the bruise
To browse from his vending booth.

“Such faith shall blind
For then and behind,
And bring the break of men.
You must sing my praise,
Or comes the end of days-
And our journey begins again.”

Such rallies then came
With death by holy name,
Soon the land swam in fear.
For they, them and those,
And the martyrs that rose-
The prophetic fires came near.

“This evil must fall,
Come death to us all-
The blessed shall inherit the skies.
They go to prepare our place,
So we might hide our face-
Until the next spasm of lies.”

Of gods, there are more,
Like thrusts of a whore.
Temple doors, like grains of sand,
Force men’s followers to charge
To make hell’s purse large-
Giving darkness the upper hand.

But this is yesterday’s news,
Perhaps tomorrow’s blues,
Or what lurks waiting in between
Of those words that you read,
That plants our cursing seed
For endings we haven’t seen.

Little black books
With all their nooks-
Wait to cheat the human kind.
Like branches from trees,
Or drops from the seas
Our destiny they wait to bind.