Timothy Lawton

6/2/2006
I’m no Job
But I’m sick of watching the worst people getting everything
I’m no Job
But I’m so damn sick of watching assholes make out like kings
Intelligence counts for nothing and kindness makes one seem like a fool
All my efforts amount to nothing because repetition repeats and the world spirals cruel
I no better than to pray for the end
But I can’t stand watching the liars continue to lie and the whores continue to bend
I know better than to say Jesus has become just a name
But we now worship those who make the blind blinder and the lamest of the lame
Miracle materials make for malicious mystery
Where apocalypse construction will end the repeated repetition of mankind’s history
I’m no Job
But I’m sick of watching the worst people getting everything
I’m no Job
But I’m so damn sick of watching peasants walk around presenting themselves as kings
The rain falls on the wicked as well as the righteous
And I’m tired of watching the wicked get wet

11/16/1996
Civilization you beast of a word
Calculated barbarism
A monster with a mind
Your teeth have been forgotten
Your claws are misunderstood
Again you are a gentleman
Again we hear the calls of the strong should survive
To the weak let them slither and writhe
They are a cancer on your fair body
A tear in your ceremonial uniform
And most of all civilization you have learned how not to appear a beast
No, you will come again as a lamb
A lamb in statesman’s clothing
I don’t know your name, but I talk about you every day
I don’t know your face, yet I’ve seen your hands shaping the world for sometime
And I’ll know who you are if I see you
You will be revered as the essence of civilization
The one with the ideal
The mind of the monster plan
Your teeth will be seen as pearls
And your claws will be concealed
You will be made the leader
The strong will be of the future
Disciplined and erudite
The weak will be of the past
Superstitious and deserving to die
The cancer of spiritual conscience in your material world
Where the beast is seen as a statesman
And a monster made of the lamb

6/20/2005

I wonder what it would be like to be a person who didn’t care
One who didn’t feel or love
It would certainly be easier
But could it be better?
Not to have butterflies in your stomach for an unrequited love
Not to pause at the pointless loss of another life to a senseless crime
Not to well up with tears when a graduate gives an impassioned speech about his struggle to get to where he now stands
To know no joy in another’s triumph
Or to know no sympathy for another’s tears
What would it be like?
What would I live for?
Sure I would never suffer the sorrow and pain that comes with lost love
I would never pound my fist in rage at how the whole world is going to hell
I would never cry because someone exemplified what it means to persevere
I know it would certainly be easier
But, would it be better?

12/30/1997

Locks of red luster glisten in the sun
Betraying the beauty of the one I love
A smile that springs from the depth of your soul
Revealing her to my heart which she completely stole
To be captured in your embrace no words would dare
Dreaming of your sweet caress to which nothing compares
My heavenly companion from earth’s end to end
My strength, my compassion, my dearest friend
To make God my life you’ve taught me to never forget
In this world of darkness you’re a son that never sets
You are light, you are love, a masterpiece of art
I am transfixed by what you do, what you say, and who you are
There are no words that can express my love for thee
Like dawn or the wind, your spirit is beyond poetry

Another breezy night
With beads of sweat littering my brow
Attempting to form thoughts I can write
Yet, nothing comes to mind right now.