Will it burn me up?
This extraordinary love?
I let my self go

you threw me far flung
away from myself,
an act of hate and fear.

but it feels good
i have to say,
to look at myself
objectively from this point
so far from the beginning.

i am on the outskirts,
looking back at myself
with love,
and a dedication
to walk through
this new fire,
in an effort
to make myself even
bigger than before.

What is waiting for my weight—
for the matter I carry,
for the energies bonded within me?
What is lying dormant—
anticipating the day
when my body lays itself down—
so it may drink from my cisterns
and eat from my stores?
What will come into Being
from my ceasing to Be?

After an earthquake, I fell down
from a City to a town

the transformation was so bad
Sitting on a chair I was sad.

Then a man came running while
his body action made me smile,

he is sit near me and offer a bun
his style of offering made me fun

he then called me majesty
he was my fan, i see

he said,"you were best at that chance
your good poems made me dance

you still are best you still are good."
His lines of fame made me Stood

I held a pen,
start writing then,
my words were hit,
and famous again.

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.

I looked to you as the sun set,
but you turned your head to look at girls passing by.
**** it.
You made it impossible to connect
until the breeze blew your ego to the Ocean,
and it seemed you got the girl.
Good for you.
I'm still alone in the sand, my sandcastle incomplete.

We're both scarred;
been there, done that.
Too bad you push it overboard.
Why can't I hate you for that?

You made happiness,
You made tears,
You made them salty like BP in the Gulf.
I was looking for something special,
but that ship has sailed.

A decision made impulsively
Sometimes ends repulsively
But sometimes ends perfectly
And eradicates conformity

Look just a little more you
(When in fact there's less of you)
They look again and say that's WHO?
Open up their world view

When they see that people can change