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ConnectHook Apr 2017
You may cover the stench with a potpourri—
while you gag, as you finger your rosary.
Sacrosanct nourriture…
or decayed pourriture?
(Other patrons might label it Popery.)

Though the tepidly Protestant matron
of a church that is stagnant and state-run
does not care about Luther,
We’ll bother to truth her
with Calvin or Knox as our patron.

Though the Vatican’s bottomless coffers
make some very un-Lutheran offers,
I would rather talk Tetzel
(with beer and a pretzel)
and drink with the rebels and scoffers.

We forget that the birth of the Kirk
was a vicious, un-Catholic work
One recalls ****** Mary…
and Knox was no faerie.
His doctrine drove Satan berserk.

Many chairmen, deficient in wit
who on flimsy theologies sit
with no justification
hate predestination,
reviling it more than a bit.

Barthelemy (in French: St. Bartholomew)
was unpleasant, as most of the martyrs knew
Roman Catholic correction
or violent deception?
In heaven, they’re getting the overview…

People gag, and then murmur the rosary
seeking solace in incense or potpourri
you must pardon my French
but this damnable stench
smells like nothing so much as like Popery.
napowrimo #10

This new format ***** .
Where's the italic and bold?
Eliot blew it.

(my Haiku for the day)
Divine Dao-3 Mar 2016
Aww wow the visual world is become distorted
Help!!! The all pervading abstract art is me eating up
The familiar The girlsurroundings I'm bumping auch! !
Into the ****** crystal chandelier  Why does it have to grow right out of this absurd scuffy and smitten sofa
dangling sadly
beneath this blatant ceiling ... Ohhh awaww where are the Stairs to my bedroom **** ! they are twisted like a shabby shaggy. No no no how  can I climb now up to my pink silvery bedroom? I need a rest! The  windows became cracks of the lawnmowers soil pointing to the magma earth core. Or is it vacant and inhabited!? I have to go ballistic  Braaaaaam a flight out of the lobsters hut hut succeded Love shack is grooving
Everybody is moving come around I'll shake the tree branch and have a lovely dawn dinner with wise clouds. Even got a grip on a beautiful anthem borne upon allmighty god's finger. I
Am pushed forward with artistic arms plentitude dancing the strokes across my ideal robes. I don't need an unbreakable strong rope anymore - ditto !!!? I have three eyes. One for you.
One for me. One for the emerald sea.
Thank you
Tha k you
ConnectHook Sep 2015
One thinks  on Calvin heav’n’s own spirit fell;
Another deems him instrument of ****;
If Calvin feel heav’n’s blessing, or its rod,
This cries there is, and that, there is no God.*

Alexander Pope

A transcendental tulip
is blooming in my garden.
Before the petals wither,
before affections harden,
I pray it may diffuse its scent –
so gloriously redolent.

Encouraging the faithful,
it blooms in any weather.
In sunshine or in shadow;
let us, elect, together,
enjoy its sanctifying smell
While warning careless souls of ****.

In Him we ****** the petal
That proves our own depravity
The flower that declares our heart
apart from Christ, a cavity
where only evil may be found
by One who dares our depths to sound.

The second petal beckons
and sings of pure election;
where souls are freely chosen
by God’s divine selection.
(As yet not offered to the masses –
Unto whom His wrath now passes).

Thirdly shines the Limit
of Christ in His atonement:
benefits are thus withheld
in God’s eternal moment.
So let the worldling rant and bluster;
Raging will not dim the luster…

Fourth: shall the fallen Adam
hold out against omniscience?
Will puny human being
Prevail in disobedience?
The Lord on high will hound you down –
His grace to place a golden crown.

Point five unfurls its essence;
as saints arise, and striving
shake off the dust and onward march –
though never quite arriving;
while God empowers to go the distance
Persevering with insistence.

Behold in full the blossom!
In Grace it shines, reflecting;
delighting in God’s wisdom,
the lead to gold perfecting;
Magnanimous floral alchemy
bestowing at last true liberty.

Lunar May 2015
today my friend's best friend died
and i really empathized with her

Her best friend was

And he was one of the best, someone whom she could lean on, someone who would cheer her up with a cuddle.

It hurts to lose a dog. A big, furry cream colored friend, with a big loving heart.

It's true that a dog loves you much more than himself. And you could see it in their eyes when you give them food or ****** their bellies.

This fuzzy feeling of friendship will never be forgotten.
R.I.P Calvin "Pancake", the yellow Labrador retriever.
Eu Claudio Oct 2014
I can't support the smell of fried chicken
or the taste of fries
I can't stand the fizzy drinks
or the muffins or the pies

all this junk food they push down my throat makes me sick
it slowly kills my good taste
it crushes my creativity
it turns me into a big fat pig

I barely remember your smell
only when the night is quiet
and the moon shines in silence
I can recall the taste of Euphoria in your neck

that perfume that used to light this brume
and recharge my lungs
that perfume that I barely remember
but I miss it so much

in the end
all I got left is this disgusting smell of mine
over that sweet fresh fragrance
by Calvin Klein
Bird Sep 2014
I miss you
the way you always knew how to listen
and never left when I told you to
because you knew something was wrong

I miss you
I thought I heard you sigh
but I turned to smile and
it was not you
just my imagination

I need you
Right now
next to me
letting my cry on you
and helping me from getting so

You've been gone for only a year
but the cat has already forgotten your name

I miss you

— The End —