We do not have to plead our case
For he took our place
Tracing back-to Genesis
When we were molded by His grace
His love demonstrate
Breaks
Gender and race
For we are all the same
It’s a shame
What we are today
Is not how we were made
To walk around with these chains
For we bear His image
Polish
To a perfect finish
But we’re stained with sinful *******
It's self to blame
Self-most fade
Our ego trade
For a righteous change
He paved the way
So that our sins will be erased
Our hearts engraved
With the message that saves
Demons shack
When they see His face
The devil races
Back to his cage
His love is like a flame
Power with in His name
From death the grave
To life, He reigns
Your guilt exchanged
With your sins paid
Forgiveness He give
Don’t have to wait
Come to Jesus today.

And Jacob sware by the fear of his father Isaac.
                                               [Genesis 31:53]


Sharp trauma must have lingered on for good

in Isaac’s silent dazed humanity

halted by heaven; trembling laid on wood

too young to question father’s sanity.

Was it a light thing? To be thus withstood

by Jehovah’s awful benignity…

Faltering further up life’s mountain, would

he carry the damage with dignity?

This just might explain the forty-year wait,

meditating on the ram, on his fate.

The paralyzing laughter of his name

even after life unveiled in his tents.

A certain hesitation does make sense

in the son laid out on unkindled flame.

Here's their "knowledge"
Here's the scoop
NOT scuttlebutt... the REAL ****!
Be ye Popeye or Betty Boop
They will draw you in their loop...

This rope will hold you... it ain't loose
You will find it is a NOOSE.

This is interesting to read
Though it's crazy... that's agreed
You'll think these people smokin' ****!

In the beginning there were some thetans
(Interesting that rhymes with SATAN)
They were bored with all the waiting

They were bored. Nothing to do.
These thetans could be me or you
Then... VIOLA... right on cue...
Here's an idea! The other shoe!

YES! Let's PLAY! We'll play a GAME!
It will be FUN! IT HAS A NAME!

M atter. E nergy. S pace. T ime.
The MEST universe! How sublime!
To find it's secrets will cost no dime
But thousands of BUCKS!
Should be a CRIME.

So these thetans all AGREE.
IT WAS THAT AGREEMENT, you see.
The M. E. S. T. Universe. (Smokin' TREE?
Was Ronnie Hubbard on LSD?)
We were AGREED you & me
That this game would then just BE.

Dynamite brains blow off my HAT?
It don't need no S.A.T.
My mind needs no extra watts
To figure out the problem with THAT.

Can you think of ANY COUPLE
Whether married for 60 years
WHO AGREE ON EVERYTHING???

RIDICULOUS.

So there you have it.
Their Genesis
I'll bring you more.
There's quite a list.
But I think you have the gist.

SCIENCE FICTION!!!
Not M. E. S. T. but MISSED!

Catherine E Jarvis
SoulSurvivor
(C) 2/23/2017

I died the night my son became,
Come his cry,
And my promises wept;

     For the whiskey bottle’d pass,
     And now over one empty seat.

I died the night my son became,
Come his grin,
And a mother now exhausted;

     Held was her hand, held was his,
     Before the brothers who now hold spades.

I’d earn life the night my son became,
Come his whimper,
And our eternity now in wait;

     Such neon! Were the hours, so howl,
     Would and could –

          Minus I and newest day we’d become.