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Knock, and it shall be opened unto you,
    If you, indeed, are true.
If so, the Bridegroom's door will open wide
    To let His guest inside.

Knock, but beware if true, indeed, you're not;
    For not one tittle or jot
Shall pass the Lion guarding, at attention,
    The door to God's dimension.  
He'll bounce you off the doorstep with a roar
    Like none you've heard before.
Odd Odyssey Poet Sep 2022
Lyrics without thought, in this mind quick
to thwart what is an innocent thought

And to reminisce every mistake and fault
ostentatiously, by means to flaunt

There's that familiar sinner in my heart
for the dear me—a red poetic of the hart

I'm so quick in my faith to quickly doubt
despite the flaming desires I have of so much
will to display; but the fears are quick to dout

As the longing to be close to a cost
that of which my purpose is enough the amount
To mount in the fixed place of this mysterious world
lest must I spin my head countless times, and be whirled

As liken to a devilish smile; cheery of guilty cares
must I be trained to despise my lies
And be washed of immortality by a birthed virtues
****** bathed with necessary lyes

I thank Christ for such a sacrifice of an enemy
hoping joyously that he dies
His risen story has imparted a new colour to my
life; a permanent impact as it comes to dyes

As two words can sound and look the same—
steadfast is the love of God to allow me to be
saved by grace. As I often gaze at the words of
how His love remains the same

Unlike the lyrics in my head,
so quick to change
Water to wine and wine to precious blood
The Lord transfigures; taken at the flood,
    The dregs of outrageous fortune, once imbibed,
Will be like compost to a growing bud.  

So, drink and happy be, for all is well
In Paradise, where living waters swell
    The stilly stream by quiet pastures green,
And sheep in peace and pleasant weather dwell.
"Pigeon droppings cited in bridge collapse"
                             —Toronto Star

Behold the ***** birds that felled a bridge
Of concrete, iron, and steel routinely made,
Dropping by dropping, pigeon after pige-
on adding contributions grossly laid.
An engineering feat commercial grade,
The bridge could not withstand the pigeon poo,
And, from the scourge of filth, the bridge decayed,
And fell as all decaying things will doo.
(When not creating mayhem, pigeons coo
And congregate and caper in the park,
Returning to their nests—tu-whit tu-whoo—
Before the owl can hunt them in the dark.)  
And so we see the danger we permit
When pigeons are allowed to give a ****.
His right is right
And so's His left.
His burden's light
Despite its heft.

Easy's His yoke,
And, I attest,
A spirit broke
Is also blessed.
Odd Odyssey Poet Jul 2022
Till seasons come, and those that go,
in dreary skies, clearing forecast, and behind
clouds of snow. The sun still shines through it
all—true to personality, values, and spirit, regardless
of the pressures in the surrounding atmosphere.

Authentic as the day it was born,
authenticity—aren't we all authentic as the SON,
who will come again, as He came before!
GaryFairy Jul 2022
beasts made out of pieces of clay
my God is an artist
the reason he makes these beasts is to play
with the clay when it hardens

angels feel no danger in the throes
my God is so fearless
don't try to look his almighty in the toes
when his steps are so careless
Well...what ya expect
I.
In the beginning
God was,
And the blackbird
Was not.

II.
And Adam called it a blackbird;
And that was the name thereof.
&
mosquito
made by
God
con spirito,
buzzzinging
by my
ear
(while birds are singing),
God
made u
& i
As true as the Trinity
And Christ's divinity,
And as heavy as gravity,
My total depravity
Is undeniable.
But God created me justifiable,—
Me, who's more of a Don Knotts
Than an Isaac Watts.
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