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J M Surgent May 2014
“What is the end”
He said, “we die
Without sacrifice;
Catholicity is
The decay of cathedrals,
of movie houses..."
But these movies are a moral force,
Of Christ and cross
Poems penned in gold,
Words no good, words too old,
Stories, cut deep with a man with a knife,
There is no life in the stuff because it tries to be “like” life.
Another slightly modified found language poem.
Md Iqbal Hossen Feb 2018
Spring! evergreen lustrous eyes
Kiss the carnal pleasure of the time.
Make a wink to those hypocrites
who legs behind your ancestor,
pulls her back into the graveyard.
Invite them to see your full-fledged youth.
Poke them to praise your eternal beauty.
Right them by derogationg their blind notions,
Your ancestor was not died.
Make them understand,  she was busy with Demeter
Tell them, she was preparing you to greet Persephone.
Aware them, strom comes after a profound silence.
Grow them up giving a sense
You are nothing but the ofsprings of your ancestor
Who suffers the pain to preseve you,
To protect you from cold and mist,
Dark and deep into a shell.
Tell them your youth is a blessings of her sacrifice.
Qualyxian Quest Apr 2021
The sacred and the profane
I seek to speak of both

******* in the forest
Trusting by my troth!

Cathedral bells still tripping
Nuns and naked women

Baptized in Fire
Exoplanet swimmin'

          Discoveries!

— The End —