Everything I own, I carry with me:
i carry your heart(i carry it in my heart)
It has done me good because of the color of the wheat
But love is not a victory march

Herta Müller
e.e. cummings
Antoine de Saint-Exupéry
Leonard Cohen

Death is an invitation;
it's a cycle that
makes a saint
from a snake,
though the venom still drips
from those pearly whites.

like the snow in a Michigan spring,
do we persist -
do we thaw,
or do we melt?

The apex of meaning
is found in the sweet of honey -
not the pursuit
of righteous gates;

like the green teasing from under the white,
there's always something more.

Who needs another saint?
Not ***** Holly, she's doing okay
without them. Her ***** is home to many men,
her ******* brought thousands dead to life,
Her mouth and her ***
do miracles! And she always says: I should be saint!
I deserved it, for ******' sake!

Who needs another saint?
Not Jake, a murderer,
no one and nothing can help him.
And he can't help himself. He tried twice,
but he failed. The rope wasn't strong enough.
He hates saints. He says it's them
who make him a sinner. A murderer. He says
they tapped the rope.
Who needs another saint then?

Pope.

In shaking verse
She writes down the gifts of his divinity.
Her trembling meter pays homage
To the ruby red circles seared onto her skin.
Every stuttering syllable is an offering
That she conjures as a devotee,
Who has defaulted on the repayment
Of words, now long overdue.

He demands epic proportions of gifted wisdom,
He asks for legendary lines in his honour.
He demands for glory to his name,
Written in red.

The patron saint of inspiration
Retains his light,
And casts gifted shadows over her,
As she struggles to her elbows,
Drowning in loud, blank papers.

The patron saint of inspiration
Waits at the altar of poetry,
Watching tributes flow in,
Mounted on her fragile skin
And faded rhymes.

The patron saint of inspiration
Inspects the fabric of the writer's soul,
And passes judgement
On the worth of her tears,
Ever smiling, ever watching.

The patron saint of inspiration
Lures her to the gates of Eden
Only to have her trace her words
In the eternal dust of the ephemeral
Gods that gathers beneath it.

His grace against her fatigue,
His divinity against her anguish.
His grand schemes against her hope
His knowledge against her intrigue.

The patron saint of inspiration
Watches her from the walls within.

The patron saint of inspiration
Encourages her divine sin.

The Apostle Paul was a saint but he was a sinner in the beginning.
He killed Jesus's followers and Jesus struck him blind for sinning.
After Jesus sent Ananias to restore Paul's sight, Paul changed his evil ways.
He vowed to be Jesus's Apostle and preach the gospel for the rest of his days.
Paul began preaching that Jesus is our savior.
Some people became infuriated by his behavior.
They planned to have Paul put to death.
He was warned about this and he left.
After leaving, he continued to preach the gospel and made tents for a living.
Even though Paul was a former murderer, Jesus knew that he was worth forgiving.
Paul was worthy of forgiveness and so are today's sinners.
If people put an end to their sinful ways, they can be winners.

We must celebrate the birth of the Lord,
Not the gift of a toy sword.
That's Christmas's true meaning,
Not a commercial screening.
I;m sure Santa Claus would agree;
He works for God, you see.
Saint Nicholas is his real name;
May our celebration and his be the same!

Where are you, O valiant knight,
riding on your quest?
Capturing your deadly foe,
your metal for to test...

O'r the mountains lies the dragon,
secure within its lair.
It's gloating over victory...
it ate the maiden fair!

And so you mount your steed,
silver glinting from your spurs,
sally off to slay it...
avenge the death of her!

Oh! Is not this dragon beautiful?
Yes! An AWESOME prize!
With crystal wings and citron scales
and sapphires for eyes!

Emeralds on its sloping breast
rubies are its claws
fangs of alabaster
line it's fiery maw...

Perfumed incense, spicy smoke,
from its mouth a butane flame...
Once you've tried the dragon once
it is hell to tame!

Have you your armor fast secured?
Does the visor block your view?
You may chase the dragon
or it could be chasing YOU.

When will you turn and rend it?
Tear the ***** APART?
Strap your lance to your steed
and pierce it to its HEART?

Now, if you are victorious
you still must have a care...
for its blood is virulent
that cup you must not share!

You could quick behead it.
Mount it on your wall.
But it could poison you instead...
my! How the mighty fall!

So ride off in the sunset.
Leave the dragon where it fell.
It will slowly rust away...

and blow back into HELL.


SoulSurvivor
(C) 12/19/2015

Oh
help me know
the points that you make
help me grow

My reflection in your eyes
the inflection in your voice
that look on upon your face
It shows

Yeah I know
I'm reaching closing time
But still
You haven't seen the best of me

Youre fire in my eyes
Spark actions just in time
Before
Time erases Destiny