Infected with sin virus
causing
immortal death--
from Adam to me.

Cease, head, from a teetotaller 's tale
And lap up wine of words to brimfull,
Soaking the skull with many a flagon
Of poetry, prose, play and review,

That the brain cells may bubble over like
Foam inside the tumbler of religion
And humanities, arts, science and tech.

Casting the old flame's gear
away,
garbing a new wear.

Few cartoon characters have suffered
like Tom . . . yet not dead.

Upon her faithful frame togs
Of beauty hangs;
Rosy robe, smelling myrrh.


All the go love is unambiguous--
Nought hid; clear
Like glass, soft like foulard.

Soul filled with gall, tears flow:
Crimson rushing on the snow.

Left home for office
Left home for somewhere
Left home for business
Only to appear elsewhere,

Where eternity steadies its swinging door.

Goodbye turns to abrupt good night,
Cold darkness replaces warm light.

Husband never returning more
Wife gone to another shore
Children laughs fade like leaves
Merry home in sorrow's sleeves.

Though evil men cannot ever cease;
In Jesus's hand commit our lives.

Difference between You
and me is:
You're firm, I'm fickle.