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ConnectHook May 2022
mid-morning shot of lawns in suburbia/something about baseball or football or summer camp/bumbling fool in pleated khakis with mediocre-length hair/unforeseen encounter with blonde in commercial zone[PRODUCT PLACEMENT] familiar boomer-rock or soul music lulls the viewer/neurotic feminized white father loses it over middleclass trivialities/funny overweight guy befriends main character[PRODUCT PLACEMENT] assertive mom obsessed with hokey career too emotionally repressed to nurture her kids/sassy alterna-child presented as wiser than its parents listens to new “edgy” rock-rap/stereotypical Latinos shown eating spicy food and being passionate and colorful/token religious figure prays superficially[PRODUCT PLACEMENT] noble black mentor capable of guiding the primitive unspiritual Caucasians/working-class single mom abused by her ****** boyfriend[PRODUCT PLACEMENT] neurotic dad realizes how good he has it/rebel alterna-kid admits it loves its parents/cringey dance scene to another familiar boomer-era pop song[PRODUCT PLACEMENT] reference to Hollyweird-style New-age Judaism-psychic-pop-mysticism-chaos-theory/sophisticate girlfriend mentions her abortion/enter dangerous crackpot gun-toting extremist citing Bible verses[PRODUCT PLACEMENT] someone befriends gentle new Asian neighbors/constant references to brand-name pop culture during bar scene/funny overweight friend offers main character homely wisdom[PRODUCT PLACEMENT] emo-rock theme with super-bass boost plays while credits roll
May 2022 · 381
Ponkey Mox
ConnectHook May 2022
Monkey Pox! The Monkey Pox!
Get more boosters, change your locks.
Have wild *** without a ******;
Block the fandom. Burn the kingdom.
Gambian rats are not to blame—
Trump supporters own the shame:
White extremists, spreading plague,
for reasons that, as yet, are vague . . .
[Nina Junkowicz approves of this poem]

https://connecthook.net/2022/05/24/ponkey-mox/
Apr 2022 · 145
Pseudobulbar Paroxysms
ConnectHook Apr 2022
Bark like a rooster, roar like a chicken
Fake those healings till we sicken;
Churchy frenzies, righteous quavers—
Charismaniacs and ravers.
Holy laughs from Howie Browne
Lame libations: drink it down
Until you sprawl on the temple floor
searching for God’s own unlocked door.

(Ntl. Poetry-writing Month 2022, prompt #2)
For some reason, HP will not let me post my NaPoWriMo prompt response #1, a prose-poem. I will try it here below:

The Ammo Asana

A twenty-something with a Well-behaved Women Rarely Make Herstory bumper sticker on her sky-blue Subaru guzzled a kombucha just before yoga class. The liquid still sloshing in her stomach, she assumed the Cow-cat asana fifteen minutes later. The red-bearded driver of a battered black Ford F-150 parked next to the yogini’s Subaru and headed toward the Freedom Guns and Ammo store, two doors down from the yoga studio. Upon turning off the Christian death-metal he had been listening to, he paused with his keys in his hand. From the cab of his truck he could hear her ginger-kelp kombucha sloshing. Beholding the alluring rear of her temple enclosed in paisley-printed spandex he was inspired to push open the door to the small studio and stick his head just inside the entrance. The effects of the two red cannabis oil chewies consumed the night before had yet to wear off. As the polished brass bells in the threshold tinkled, the sandalwood incense hit him. He fixed her in his bearded gaze from the army-green brim of his These Colors Don’t Run baseball cap.

"Baby, is that kombucha singing inside of you or am I asleep and having a *******?"

Looking up, she saw that he was rudely addressing herself and no one else among the five practitioners flexing on all fours. Her inner peace yielded to disgust as the prana ebbed.

"Excuse me but if you are talking to me, your patriarchal, misogynistic comment makes bigoted cisgender assumptions about my ****** identity", she replied.

"Hey honey, just tryin’ to be nice. Don’t blow a gasket now. I could hear you from my truck…"

Believe it or not, this is how my parents met.
They were married on Oahu seventeen years ago.
PROMPT 1:
Write your own prose poem that, whatever title you choose to give it, is a story about the body.
The poem should contain an encounter between two people, some spoken language, and at least one crisp visual image.
Apr 2022 · 108
Late Terminology
ConnectHook Apr 2022
Blastocyte, Viable Zygote, Fetus
Vile and inhuman clinical labels
Scientific data-driven fables
Invented by those who would delete us
Mar 2022 · 428
Plumbing Issues
ConnectHook Mar 2022
It's stunning and brave:
Some man thinks he's a woman.
Give that quing a keen!
Richard Levine the great swimmer is absolutely FABULOUS and needs more gold medals.
Mar 2022 · 133
Sitcom
ConnectHook Mar 2022
It's "devastating"
and it's "heartbreaking" . . .

refugees surging,

cities exploding,

as I watch re-runs

of the George Soros show.
It is right to question
what the majority accept unquestioningly
from global corporate media...
Mar 2022 · 108
Dictation
ConnectHook Mar 2022
You put in leader
We take out leader
You take out government
We put in government
They put in troops
You take out troops

Tanks to put in.
In Amerika, you trash Putin.
In Russia, you put in trash.

Is funny joke.
Feb 2022 · 105
Do Not Transgress
ConnectHook Feb 2022
Don't you DARE
inflict your sophomoric emo observations
on those of us who bear the mantle
of  P O E T R Y.
You have been WARNED
Feb 2022 · 214
Cut U Down
ConnectHook Feb 2022
The reaper
Scythe your fearful ***--

I mean your soul.
(Not your donkey...)

You have NO RIGHT
To a risk-free existence.
HeeHaw.
Another cutting poem for my bleeding fans at H.P.
Feb 2022 · 104
In Spite of Thorazine
ConnectHook Feb 2022
Bettie Page

was SAVED !

(Hallelujah to GOD).
Eternally vibrant, Miss Page
causes hormones and heartbeats to rage.
As she shimmies, her beauty
Exposes her duty:
Enthralling our souls on her stage. 

Through her charms, neither low nor high-class,
she allows us a peek through the glass.
She transcended her age
(and our lust). Bettie Page
could both smile with her face and her ***.
https://www.bitchute.com/video/HTlGuTuHK5kg/
Feb 2022 · 349
Shout-out to Mr. Trudeau
ConnectHook Feb 2022
Canucks driving trucks!
Rocking, rolling, getting DOWN !
YES ! Keep On Truckin'.
Notes from the Great White North.
https://youtu.be/x266AoTO-Ac
Jan 2022 · 278
Minimalism
ConnectHook Jan 2022
P F U © K  P F I Z E ® !

Brandon's Life Matters !
LET'S GO BRANDON (MORE)

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GrFKef23CoI
Jan 2022 · 157
Fake Haiku
ConnectHook Jan 2022
Extremism: good.
Neurotic status quo: bad.
Honesty: the Best !
WHO is the enemy.
Jan 2022 · 228
Masquerade
ConnectHook Jan 2022
I was putting on a mask
so I would be protected
while preparing to mask up
with 2 other masks
in order to walk alone on the street
(although I'm proud to say:
DOUBLE JABBED and BOOSTED, baby!)
but had to flee  back inside
upon realizing that I needed to triple mask
because an unvaxxed domestic terrorist
who caused the takeover of White House
had sneezed 3 hours earlier
and we need to stay safe
because we are all promised
a risk free-existence
because god
does not exist
because OMIGOSH VARIANT
is greater than god
or even
"Red Chiner"
and WHO
is the enemy exactly?
Please, people:
stay safe and double-mask before you double-jab
and get boosted every 4 months
because new variants
and wear your underwear on your head
because CDC & WHO & FAUCI
and something else I was told to do
Jan 2022 · 121
First Cut of 2022
ConnectHook Jan 2022
Cut straight
and cut clean
for this bright new year.

in 2022, remember:

STICHES are for SNITCHES.
Dec 2021 · 1.3k
Christmas Cutting
ConnectHook Dec 2021
** ** **
it's Santa's turn to cut!

Whoops.
with my jolly color scheme,
no one can tell
that I am BLEEDING . . .
Don't do it, Santa.
Believe in your self, please.
Put that holiday blade down.
We love you.
Nov 2021 · 728
Back to Cutting
ConnectHook Nov 2021
just trying out
a new blade
it was a freebee  
at the Cutter's Convention.

well, it handles nicely,
cuts efficiently,
leaves a nice scar . . .

AND NOW for my POEM:

waah wah waaaah wahh
I so EMO waaaaah!
A cut from my latest record.
Nov 2021 · 195
Writ in House
ConnectHook Nov 2021
Kyle is a hero!

He killed a violent child-molester
and another deadbeat agitator,
both of whom attacked him with a mob.

Rosenbaum called him a *****
even though Kyle is white as snow.

Another criminal bludgeoned him with a skateboard.
(Dude, that's totally THRASH--)

Too bad the third criminal
only got a shot in the arm...

WELL-DONE, Mr. Rittenhouse,
https://theothermccain.com/2020/08/28/***-offender-joseph-rosenbaum-taunted-armed-civilians-shoot-me-n-r/
Nov 2021 · 97
Cut Down to Sighs
ConnectHook Nov 2021
Before I slash and burn the fields
I kiss the blade my reaper wields.

Bad poetry wells forth and gushes;
lyric sanity now hushes.

Teenage angst is smeared all over.
(Suicidal edge as lover . . .)

Bring some towels! My verse is flowing . . .
And my poetic dullness showing.

It makes your well-paid therapist sing;
this whining/slashing/cutting thing,

Since he or she is paid by the hour --
while you coagulate, and glower.
Please write more "Cutting Poetry"
We need a greater voice for cutters here at H.P.
Thanks, and keep that blade clean and sharp!
Nov 2021 · 142
A Cut Above My Other Poemz
ConnectHook Nov 2021
Can't take it anymore . . .

I lacerate my cursed skin,

That scarlet rivulets may flow. . .

Billy can I borrow your butterknife?

CUT ! Take two.
Let's try that scene again . . .
(Get some towels over here, Fritz.)
Stay sharp and keep your lyrical edge.
Poetry: it's in the blood.
Nov 2021 · 110
Even MORE Cutting
ConnectHook Nov 2021
i slice

like a pizza chef.

i bleed

like a sacrifice.

you read

like a bored therapist.
let your insurance company know before you start CUTTING

and make sure you wear your mask.

STAY SAFE 🤡
Nov 2021 · 191
More Cutting
ConnectHook Nov 2021
I have that need

To bleed

But having trouble

Finding my skin


And I'm using a plastic spoon...
Stay safe and cut clean everyone 🤪❤🖐
Nov 2021 · 293
Another Cutting Poem
ConnectHook Nov 2021
i cut

my verses

like i cut and run

when they come

for the the superficially wounded

poets
I have ruined all my wedding gowns.
help me someone.

Also: send large Bandaids
ConnectHook Nov 2021
Grosskreutz chased him, intending to harm.
Kyle Rittenhouse sounded alarm;
Then surrounded by danger,
Engaged with that stranger
Who needed a shot in the arm.

Joey Rosenbaum handled it well,
Though he’s no longer present to tell;
And his threat: Shoot me ****** !
Elicits a snigger
From demons and devils in hell.

The third idiot, Huber by name,
Used his skateboard to bludgeon. For shame!
Mr. Rittenhouse shot—
And that skater-dude got
A delicious hot slice of the same.
https://www.bitchute.com/video/Iy9epcyVM32T/
Nov 2021 · 112
Lamentito
ConnectHook Nov 2021
No pongas mente
A los perpetuamente
y profesionalmente
etnicamente
ofendidos.
Fundamentalmente mental
ConnectHook Nov 2021
MSNBC told me to be very scared. Covid variants scare me.
Biblical Christians scare me. Covid doubters scare me. My religion is FEAR.
I need Fauci to tell me what to do. I need CDC to tell me what to do.
I am so scared of unvaccinated people. They need to be re-educated.
They need to adjust their masks. They need to be forced to comply.
Because I am fearfully neurotic. Because I need to control all outcomes.
Because I am not prepared to die. Because I am destined for hell
unless I get saved in Christ.
Neurotic godless people will be the DEATH of this nation.
Nov 2021 · 235
Blaxupreme
ConnectHook Nov 2021
♥  ♥  ♥  ♥  ♥  ♥  ♥

Black greatness concealed:

Delusions revealed.
Get WOKE.
Nov 2021 · 128
Let Brands Go On
ConnectHook Nov 2021
Strange blond O,
A strong blonde
Long-***** star;
Norse gal on BDT
Strangled boon.
England's robot
Bore St. Ann gold.
(London gets bra!)
R-angled Boston?
Strong A/O blend,
A ****-****** RL
Lost grand bone
Dragon B stolen;
(Dragon Ben lost)
No BT gland rose.
Nose (or BT gland)
Nor to be glands
Beg. Last noon Dr.
******, bro. . . Lent.
Blood rages. TNN.
Best ***** rol'n
***** loads NTB;
Stole grand ***,
Got ngrs on blade.
Strong leo band?
Stolen dog bran!
No globe strand
Orgone land bst
Abort son legnd;
Ron's ***** belt:
***** and T-logs.
Ron, let's ban God!
(No L.D. Regan-bots:
Lord gets no ban.)
Staged non-bro L
Steal goon bndr,
Set grand loon B:
Grade B loons, TN
(Or one's LGBT dean;
Be gone, old trans !)
God's banner lot
Non-blots raged. . .
Good bats lernn.
Non-brats: lo GED
Lots o' danger, N.B.

L E T' S   GO   B R A N D O N !
Semi-coherent word collage
based on finite choices
with infinite possibilities

Each one should have the same 13 letters used.

Come on. Admit it.
I mined this vein amazingly well
Oct 2021 · 208
Crepuscular Limerick
ConnectHook Oct 2021
Extinguishing all that is bright
darkness flows, to invade with the night
overtaking the towns
and usurping the crowns
of the powers that reign in the light.
Best Halloween Mixes ever:

https://youtube.com/playlist?list=PLrXaSPwQl7lKhrTDZ9f1LSWBAFB-KO6xQ
Oct 2021 · 225
I Love White Culture
ConnectHook Oct 2021
♤♡◇♧

And so does my

Black cat.
Wallace Fard Moohammad
revealed this Halloween poem
From beyond the grave
Oct 2021 · 142
Poetry Experiment
ConnectHook Oct 2021
Darwin's  evolutionary theory is an untestable hypothesis

Trillions of dollars are unaccounted for

Abortion is not a right

Most comments are chatbots

COVID-19 is propaganda

There are only 2 genders

U.S. elections are rigged

Human beings are fallen and sinful

The God of scripture created the universe

Data is relatively important

Western women have it quite good

"Big Bang" is Genesis for atheists
See what happens
Oct 2021 · 474
Microsoft Screensaver
ConnectHook Oct 2021
In spite of all that has been done
There is nothing new under the sun.
Call it a woman; it's still a man . . .
Though you throw out what's left in the garbage can.
Oct 2021 · 355
The Beautiful Toilet
ConnectHook Oct 2021
Blue, blue is the grass about the river
And the willows have overfilled the close garden.
And within, the mistress, in the midmost of her youth,
White, white of face, hesitates, passing the door.
Slender, she puts forth a slender hand;

And she was a courtezan in the old days,
And she has married a sot,
Who now goes drunkenly out
And leaves her too much alone.
MEI SHENG, 140 BC 
(trans: by Ezra Pound)

I was struck by the title ...
Oct 2021 · 142
Night Ode to the Goddess
ConnectHook Oct 2021
Hail, dark form!

Watcher of the sacred grove
Leaper of the Parapet, Ascender of the Divine Tree!

She-Who-Gnaws-the-Skull
Shadow-crowned, render of helpless mammals
She of sharpened claw and blood-warmed fang!
Lurker and slinking prowler of the dark
She-Who-Strips-Skin-From-Bone
Huntress of moon, terror of birds and mice
Watcher and waiter of the lunar jungle
Nocturnal priestess
Jaguar-goddess of Night
Puncturess of jugulars
Consort and matriarch of evening and dawn

Tree-Climber, Roof-Leaper, come!
We await your dread presence in shadow and starlight
Oh celestial pard and mountain-bacchante
Slayer of Dionysos,
We hail your arrival at the sign of padding paws.


Time for your Meow Mix !
We have a wonderful black cat.
Her name is
Petra Electra Perpetua
Sep 2021 · 284
Aguarnica: historia de arte
ConnectHook Sep 2021
Aguarnica es una pintura hecha por Picasso
durante una guerra civil en centroamérica
acerca de un pais mitológico
donde todo está al revés;
un pais que provee los ricos del mundo con
fragantes puros de calidad indigena.

La guerra Nica es otra cosa;
en la primera obra mencionada
se trata de robos y opresión y ataques no provocados
contra la ciudadanía de un país pobre...
Pero la guerra Nica es un cuadro bonito,
primitivista, lleno de lagos, volcanes,
pajaros tropicales y colores vivos.

En la pintura de Picasso se nota lideres corruptos,
bajo el mando de un burro ex-ladrón,
los cuales dan servicio labial a un ideología en bancarrota
mientras saquean los pocos recursos del país
para vender a extranjeros, enriqueciéndose en el proceso.
Pero  sólo se trata de poesía . . .
Sep 2021 · 283
Orange Limerick
ConnectHook Sep 2021
You neurotics, projecting your fears…
We have savored the salt of your tears.
Though he fell with a thud,
(yes, the man was a dud)
We still trolled you with Trump for four years.
He listens to Paula White.
Bwah ha ha ha ha ha--urk

(Choked on my coffee)
Sep 2021 · 105
Case Studies
ConnectHook Sep 2021
1)  Francophone Africa:
Studied Marxism and existential lit.
Obtained work visa to America.
Whined and railed against U.S. imperialism and kapitalism.
Took job at major university bankrolled by Pepsi corporation.
Became U.S. citizen.
Still complaining.

2)  New England:
Affluent suburban life with loving parents.
Went to Ivy League U. Became *****-feminist/marxist artist.
Moved to the Left coast. Used her talents to undermine the patriarchy.
Met successful male entrepreneur.
Became soccer mom in Beserkley.

3)  Midwest cow-town:
Tripped on Leary and Baba Ram Dass.
Followed the dead in a colorful van.
Lived the wannabee hippie life into the 90's.
Traded tie-dye for business suit.
Now manages funds for major investment firm.

4)  Pacific NW:
Raised by single mom. ***-head at 14.
Punk-rock anarchist turned straight-edge Buddhist.
Now a Maoist kindergarten teacher with 401K plan.
Paid vacations to vibrant underdeveloped nations.
Still agitating for revolution.
To be human is to be a SINNER and a HYPOCRITE.
Welcome to the club.
Christ is the only (only) way to salvation.
Sep 2021 · 250
Get to the Point
ConnectHook Sep 2021
Obsidian
Lanceolate
Auriculate
Ovaloid
Folsom
Clovis
Chert
Chip
V­V
V
Flaky shape-poem
for your erudite perusal
https://www.projectilepoints.net/Search/ASearch_North%20East.html
Sep 2021 · 611
Pro-semitic Verses
ConnectHook Sep 2021
Remove the EL
from GOLD
and you get . . . ?
99.9 %  PURE DEITY

https://evidenceforchristianity.org/is-the-hebrew-god-el-just-borrowed-from-canaanite-deities-is-yahweh-derived-from-the-caananite-god-el/
Sep 2021 · 275
FREEVERSE-19
ConnectHook Sep 2021
You, the vaccinated

seem to me

to be
just as neurotically fearful
of that chest-cold/flu thingee
as you were BEFORE your jab.

This inspires confidence

neither in your logic

nor in your vaccine.

You are supposed to be protected

by your magic jab.

I have come to believe

that COVID occupies that place
in your neurotic soul
where GOD is supposed to dwell.
So you do you.
but stop being neurotically fearful.

What's your problem . . .
are you unprepared to die?

Seek God and live.
Sep 2021 · 127
Knock Knock
ConnectHook Sep 2021
More, more, more . . .
     How do like it, how do you like it
?
                               70's Disco Song

That KC Sunshine cowbell;
That True Connection from Andrea;
That hollow knock
On America's coked-up disco skull
In the summer of seventy-six:

Who’s there . . . ?
https://youtu.be/RlJGrIyt-X8?t=38
Sep 2021 · 96
Progressive Religion
ConnectHook Sep 2021
Neurotic liberals need a faith,
Because they're unprepared to die.
Their church: fake news. So Fauci sayeth--
They trust that Science cannot lie.

So in that place where God should dwell
within their barren prideful souls,
they substitute, for fear of Hell,
their useless data-driven goals.

But what is true today may change . . .
Like Darwin's creed (and other lies)
and Truth has power to derange
beheld by Christ-rejecting eyes.
Just a little advertising jingle I had laying around...
Aug 2021 · 108
Verses for Mother Ann Lee
ConnectHook Aug 2021
Possessed by departed saints

Convulsing in celibacy

Speaking and freaking for the Lord,

Like a cherub covering His throne

All that great furniture

Assembled in forced community

That holy Do-Si-Do

Prophetic tongues, groanings . . .


I doubt you, Mother Ann.

I doubt your revelation.

All you left are scattered souls,

Fading bonnets, empty meeting-halls,

Old innovations

In the stillness of Sabbathday.


Simple and rustic empty chairs

Awaiting the next

False prophet.
Shakers and Movers
Aug 2021 · 99
San Fran 1903
ConnectHook Aug 2021
You no have tickee you get out.
Got tickee pay cash you take laundry.
You think I wash for free?
Take tickee wait here chop chop.
Washee clothes you pick up tomollow.
Next.
Memories of Gold-Rush era Hong's Laundry.
ConnectHook Aug 2021
Bots over here
Bots over there
Many AI persona
Are convincing
For real-time solution
And boost those site stat!
Bots almost write poetry
With genuine algorithm emotion
For poetic pleasures of mind
increase positive online reviews by using interactive, automated, mobile-friendly chatbots.

Facebook Business Page reviews with your reviews site of choice (like Google, Yelp, or industry-specialized review sites).
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Gmarketing news and tips via
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Jul 2021 · 281
The Day of Doom
ConnectHook Jul 2021
Michael Wigglesworth (1631–1705)

STILL was the night, serene and bright,
  When all men sleeping lay;
Calm was the season, and carnal reason
  Thought so ’t would last for aye.
Soul, take thine ease, let sorrow cease,         5
  Much good thou hast in store:
This was their song, their cups among,
  The evening before.

Wallowing in all kind of sin,
  Vile wretches lay secure:         10
The best of men had scarcely then
  Their lamps kept in good ure.
Virgins unwise, who through disguise
  Amongst the best were number’d,
Had clos’d their eyes; yea, and the wise         15
  Through sloth and frailty slumber’d.

Like as of gold, when men grow bold
  God’s threat’nings to contemn,
Who stop their ear, and would not hear;
  When mercy warned them:         20
But took their course, without remorse,
  Till God began to pour
Destruction the world upon
  In a tempestuous shower.

They put away the evil day,         25
  And drown’d their care and fears,
Till drown’d were they, and swept away
  By vengeance unawares:
So at the last, whilst men sleep fast
  In their security,         30
Surpris’d they are in such a snare
  As cometh suddenly.

For at midnight break forth a light,
  Which turn’d the night to day,
And speedily an hideous cry         35
  Did all the world dismay.
Sinners awake, their hearts do ache,
  Trembling their ***** surpriseth;
Amaz’d with fear, by what they hear,
  Each one of them ariseth.         40

They rush from beds with giddy heads,
  And to their windows run,
Viewing this light, which shines more bright
  Than doth the noonday sun.
Straightway appears (they see ’t with tears,)         45
  The Son of God most dread;
Who with his train comes on amain
  To judge both quick and dead.

Before his face the heavens gave place,
  And skies are rent asunder,         50
With mighty voice, and hideous noise,
  More terrible than thunder.
His brightness damps heaven’s glorious lamps,
  And makes them hide their heads,
As if afraid and quite dismay’d,         55
  They quit their wonted steads.

Ye sons of men that durst contemn
  The threat’nings of God’s word,
How cheer you now? your hearts I trow,
  Are thrill’d as with a sword.         60
Now atheist blind, whose brutish mind
  A God could never see,
Dost thou perceive, dost now believe
  That Christ thy judge shalt be?

Stout courages, (whose hardiness         65
  Could death and hell outface,)
Are you as bold now you behold
  Your judge draw near apace?
They cry, “no, no: alas! and wo!
  Our courage is all gone:         70
Our hardiness (fool hardiness)
  Hath us undone, undone.”

No heart so bold, but now grows cold
  And almost dead with fear:
No eye so dry, but now can cry,         75
  And pour out many a tear.
Earth’s potentates and powerful states,
  Captains and men of might,
Are quite abash’d, their courage dash’d
  At this most dreadful sight.         80

Mean men lament, great men do rent
  Their robes, and tear their hair:
They do not spare their flesh to tear
  Through horrible despair.
All kindreds wail: all hearts do fail:         85
  Horror the world doth fill
With weeping eyes, and loud outcries,
  Yet knows not *******.

Some hide themselves in caves and delves
  In places under ground:         90
Some rashly leap into the deep,
  To ’scape by being drown’d:
Some to the rocks (O senseless blocks!)
  And woody mountains run,
That there they might this fearful sight,         95
  And dreaded presence shun.

In vain do they to mountains say,
  Fall on us and us hide
From judge’s ire, more hot than fire,
  For who may it abide?         100
No hiding place can from his face,
  Sinners at all conceal,
Whose flaming eye hid things doth spy,
  And darkest things reveal.

Then were brought in, and charg’d with sin.         105
  Another company,
Who by petition obtain’d permission,
  To make apology:
They argued, “We were misled,
  As is well known to thee,         110
By their example, that had more ample
  Abilities than we:

Such as profess’d they did detest
  And hate each wicked way:
Whose seeming grace whilst we did trace,         115
  Our souls were led astray.
When men of parts, learning and arts.
  Professing piety,
Did thus and thus, it seem’d to us
  We might take liberty.         120

The judge replies, “I gave you eyes,
  And light to see your way,
Which had you lov’d, and well improv’d,
  You had not gone astray.
My word was pure, the rule was sure,         125
  Why did you it forsake,
Or thereon trample, and men’s example,
  Your directory make?

This you well knew, that God is true,
  And that most men are liars,         130
In word professing holiness,
  In deed thereof deniers.
O simple fools! that having rules
  Your lives to regulate,
Would them refuse, and rather choose         135
  Vile men to imitate.”

“But Lord,” say they, “we went astray,
  And did more wickedly,
By means of those whom thou hast chose
  Salvation heirs to be.”         140
To whom the judge; “what you allege,
  Doth nothing help the case;
But makes appear how vile you were,
  And rendereth you more base.

You understood that what was good         145
  Was to be followed,
And that you ought that which was naught
  To have relinquished.
Contrary ways, it was your guise,
  Only to imitate         150
Good men’s defects, and their neglects
  That were regenerate.

But to express their holiness,
  Or imitate their grace,
You little car’d, nor once prepar’d         155
  Your hearts to seek my face.
They did repent, and truly rent
  Their hearts for all known sin:
You did offend, but not amend,
  To follow them therein.”         160

“We had thy word,” say some, “O Lord,
  But wiser men than we
Could never yet interpret it,
  But always disagree.
How could we fools be led by rules,         165
  So far beyond our ken,
Which to explain did so much pain,
  And puzzle wisest men.”

“Was all my word abstruse and hard?”
  The judge then answered:         170
“It did contain much truth so plain,
  You might have run and read.
But what was hard you never car’d
  To know nor studied.
And things that were most plain and clear         175
  You never practised.

The mystery of piety
  God unto babes reveals;
When to the wise he it denies,
  And from the world conceals.         180
If to fulfil God’s holy will
  Had seemed good to you
You would have sought light as you ought,
  And done the good you knew.”

Then at the bar arraigned are         185
  An impudenter sort,
Who to evade the guilt that’s laid
  Upon them thus retort;
“How could we cease thus to transgress?
  How could we hell avoid,         190
Whom God’s decree shut out from thee,
  And sign’d to be destroy’d?

Whom God ordains to endless pains,
  By law unalterable,
Repentance true, obedience new,         195
  To save such are unable:
Sorrow for sin, no good can win,
  To such as are rejected:
Nor can they grieve, nor yet believe,
  That never were elected.         200

Of man’s fall’n race who can true grace
  Or holiness obtain?
Who can convert or change his heart,
  If God withhold the same?
Had we applied ourselves and tried         205
  As much as who did most
God’s love to gain, our busy pain
  And labor had been lost.

Christ readily makes this reply;
  “I **** you not because         210
You are rejected or not elected,
  But you have broke my laws:
It is but vain your wits to strain
  The end and means to sever:
Men fondly seek to part or break         215
  What God hath link’d together.

Whom God will save such will he have
  The means of life to use:
Whom he ’ll pass by, shall choose to die,
  And ways of life refuse.         220
He that foresees, and foredecrees,
  In wisdom order’d has,
That man’s free will electing ill,
  Shall bring his will to pass.

High God’s decree, as it is free,         225
  So doth it none compel
Against their will to good or ill,
  It forceth none to hell.
They have their wish whose souls perish
  With torments in hell fire,         230
Who rather chose their souls to lose,
  Than leave a loose desire.

Then to the bar, all they drew near
  Who died in infancy,
And never had or good or bad         235
  Effected personally,
But from the womb unto the tomb
  Were straightway carried,
(Or at the last ere they transgress’d)
  Who thus began to plead:         240

“If for our own transgression,
  Or disobedience,
We here did stand at thy left hand,
  Just were the recompense:
But Adam’s guilt our souls hath spilt,         245
  His fault is charged on us;
And that alone hath overthrown,
  And utterly undone us.

Not we, but he ate of the tree,
  Whose fruit was interdicted:         250
Yet on us all of his sad fall,
  The punishment ’s inflicted.
How could we sin that had not been,
  Or how is his sin our
Without consent, which to prevent,         255
  We never had a power?

O great Creator, why was our nature
  Depraved and forlorn?
Why so defil’d, and made so vild
  Whilst we were yet unborn?         260
If it be just and needs we must
  Transgressors reckon’d be,
Thy mercy, Lord, to us afford,
  Which sinners hath set free.

Behold we see Adam set free,         265
  And sav’d from his trespass,
Whose sinful fall hath split us all,
  And brought us to this pass.
Canst thou deny us once to try,
  Or grace to us to tender,         270
When he finds grace before thy face,
  That was the chief offender?”

Then answered the judge most dread,
  “God doth such doom forbid,
That men should die eternally         275
  For what they never did.
But what you call old Adam’s fall,
  And only his trespass,
You call amiss to call it his,
  Both his and yours it was.         280

He was design’d of all mankind
  To be a public head,
A common root, whence all should shoot,
  And stood in all their stead.
He stood and fell, did ill or well,         285
  Not for himself alone,
But for you all, who now his fall
  And trespass would disown.

If he had stood, then all his brood
  Had been established         290
In God’s true love never to move,
  Nor once awry to tread:
Then all his race, my Father’s grace,
  Should have enjoy’d for ever,
And wicked sprites by subtle sleights         295
  Could then have harmed never.

Would you have griev’d to have receiv’d
  Through Adam so much good,
And had been your for evermore,
  If he at first had stood?         300
Would you have said, ‘we ne’er obey’d,
  Nor did thy laws regard;
It ill befits with benefits,
  Us, Lord, so to reward.’

Since then to share in his welfare,         305
  You could have been content,
You may with reason share in his treason,
  And in the punishment.
Hence you were born in state forlorn,
  With nature so deprav’d:         310
Death was your due, because that you
  Had thus yourselves behav’d.

You think, ‘if we had been as he,
  Whom God did so betrust,
We to our cost would ne’er have lost         315
  All for a paltry lust.’
Had you been made in Adam’s stead,
  You would like things have wrought,
And so into the selfsame wo,
  Yourselves and yours have brought.         320

I may deny you once to try,
  Or grace to you to tender,
Though he finds grace before my face,
  Who was the chief offender:
Else should my grace cease to be grace;         325
  For it should not be free,
If to release whom I should please,
  I have no liberty.

If upon one what’s due to none
  I frankly shall bestow,         330
And on the rest shall not think best,
  Compassion’s skirts to throw,
Whom injure I? will you envy,
  And grudge at others’ weal?
Or me accuse, who do refuse         335
  Yourselves to help and heal.

Am I alone for what’s my own,
  No master or no Lord?
O if I am, how can you claim
  What I to some afford?         340
Will you demand grace at my hand,
  And challenge what is mine?
Will you teach me whom to set free,
  And thus my grace confine?

You sinners are, and such a share         345
  As sinners may expect,
Such you shall have; for I do save
  None but my own elect.
Yet to compare your sin with their
  Who liv’d a longer time,         350
I do confess yours is much less,
  Though every sin’s a crime.

A crime it is, therefore in bliss
  You may not hope to dwell
But unto you I shall allow         355
  The easiest room in hell.”
The glorious king thus answering,
  They cease, and plead no longer:
Their consciences must needs confess
  His reasons are the stronger.         360

Thus all men’s pleas the judge with ease
  Doth answer and confute.
Until that all, both great and small,
  Are silenced and mute.
Vain hopes are crop’d, all mouths are stop’d,         365
  Sinners have nought to say,
But that ’tis just, and equal most
  They should be ****’d for aye.

Now what remains, but that to pains
  And everlasting smart,         370
Christ should condemn the sons of men,
  Which is their just desert;
Oh rueful plights of sinful wights!
  Oh wretches all forlorn:
’T had happy been they ne’er had seen         375
  The sun, or not been born.

The saints behold with courage bold,
  And thankful wonderment,
To see all those that were their foes
  Thus sent to punishment:         380
Then do they sing unto their king
  A song of endless praise:
They praise his name and do proclaim
  That just are all his ways.

Thus with great joy and melody         385
  To heaven they all ascend,
Him there to praise with sweetest lays,
  And hymns that never end.
Where with long rest they shall be blest,
  And nought shall them annoy:         390
Where they shall see as seen they be,
  And whom they love enjoy.
Jul 2021 · 124
Learning and Booting
ConnectHook Jul 2021
All we got, it seems we have lost
     We must have really paid the cost...


                                  Bob Marley

Jacob Zuma, Julius Malema
Beat your chests, inflame your jungle.
All the world observes the mayhem
while your poor policemen bungle.

Rage impulses uncontrolled,
Cages open in your zoo;
On to shopping malls. Your cadres
Acted as directed to.

South Africa is not our world.
Red rainbows never end in gold.
A cloud of global witnesses
are watching. Let your woes unfold.
https://www.bitchute.com/video/hNctnK1LUwQ/
Apartheid government
did more for its citizens, sorry.
Do your research.
Jul 2021 · 117
Spooneristics
ConnectHook Jul 2021
☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆

**** the Faience !
English generally uses various other terms for well-known sub-types of faience. Italian tin-glazed earthenware, at least the early forms, is called maiolica in English, Dutch wares are called Delftware, and their English equivalents English delftware, leaving "faience" as the normal term in English for French, German, Spanish, Portuguese wares and those of other countries not mentioned (it is also the usual French term, and fayence in German). The name faience is simply the French name for Faenza, in the Romagna near Ravenna, Italy, where a painted majolica ware on a clean, opaque pure-white ground, was produced for export as early as the fifteenth century.

[Wikipedia]
Jul 2021 · 267
Cubanos pa' la calle
ConnectHook Jul 2021
Move along.
This has nothing to do
with Marxism...

The good people of Cuba
are simply fed up
with not having access
to Netflix,
legal marijuana
and transgender bathrooms.
https://www.frontpagemag.com/fpm/2021/07/cubans-erupt-protest-against-regime-historically-humberto-fontova/
Jul 2021 · 262
Juez Side Estory
ConnectHook Jul 2021
Gays jews interpret

Your culture

For you.

Then sell tickets

To their crowd

Who swoon

For your vibrant

And authentic

Oppression.
I laik tu leave een Amerika
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