the man who ate all he could eat,

till he could eat no more,

looked at all the hungry homeless men

and said: i am just like you, i am not able to eat.

problems came like waves, like storms

refusing to settle down: howling

winds echoed on through memories

a poignant moment where the i says “give up.”

solutions remained deep within tangled nerves,

the eyes refuse to see what is readily available,

seeking answers to heaven when god works

in mysterious ways.

waves crashed on rocks, shattered them slowly

but man’s hope is undying,

spirits are eternal, don’t you know?

debris descends into lower hell while sanguine earth

rotates along the imaginary axis,

eager to play her part with the cosmos,

she is not playing center stage!

ouch.

hope eternal like a fountain of water spurting high,

refusing to come down,

then men languish about, stating what is convenient,

not necessarily true.

it doesn’t count, the hungry men cried out

to the full bellied man wanting to join in –

feels defensive when more could be gotten,

companionship, belonging.

there was not much to partake with a bunch

of stinky men deprived of food,

too much whining and grumbles.

hey, give me that snarled a nearby figure

almost knocking the silly fat full belly man

off the floor, not off his feet.

he was not dazzled, not alarmed, not ashamed,

too much was going on

when he simply wanted to disappear with the crowd,

don’t draw attention.

but already the accusing fingers were directed towards

him, judge not ye lest be judge – the fat man moans.

the angry crowd shooed him away,

you’re not one of us, never was,

so he went off to find friendly skies

within deep earth, where debris had finally settled.

they looked like sandcastles he used to make

as a kid, by the beach,

there within the confines of warm nurturing earth,

the sanguine man forgot about full bellies

and hungry men.

the sands of time were his to mold as he pleased,

each castle more breath taking than the last

though he never saw what problems and solutions

meant.

relics of another age, to transform a man,

they were just sand in his hands.

memories replayed, it was always the same act, act 1

where the actor rushes away from problems,

embraces the full belly and calls it

overcoming gluttony. 7 deadly sins walking

amidst the tempest, they came with glad tidings,

the devil dressed up as a pastor today,

said such pleasant things – to an adoring audience.

act 1 repeated gain,

to trample on 7 deadly sins,

without effort, without heat, without fire, without ice.

it’s what everyone wants these days,

a free ride, some called it the priceless pearl.

act 1 repeats. god must be a fool.