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I was born at night tall like swagger cane
A Friday's child - delivered with muse
That was fortunate enough for my parents
Oral poetry poured plentiful in the morning

That's what Saturdays are good for
Teachers worn their loincloth lose
As wine and fish soup flowed at ease
While farmers set out to burn in the sun

Now you'll understand why I chose not to be
a Saturday's child, I dread to be a farmer
Heavy drinking may not be my fate as well
It sure sets the mood right for what's right

I took sides with either of the two vices
I pitched my tent where grace and virtues lies
Francie Lynch May 2015
I read Noah brought the animals in;
And with them brought in
All our sins.
But virtues too were marched within,
And ever since we've worn their skins.

The jackal with his wrathful jaws,
Hides behind the jungle laws.

The peacock arrayed in full feathers,
Can hide his pride with his betters.

The snake that dropped from the tree,
Moults rejection with envy.

The toad, the food chain's first to feed,
Like fat cats fill themselves with greed.

The goat devours like the locust,
Feeding on with gluttonous lust.

The smallest snail in silken cloth,
Moves like justice, slow as sloth.

The pig avoids austerity,
While feeding on dignitarities.

Other animals Noah rescued
Saved humanity by their virtue.

The swan disdains adultery
By embracing life-long chastity.

The camel slurping with prudence,
Eludes drought through temperance.

Birds feed their fledgling adeptly
With mouth to mouth charity.

The ****** known to be a nuisance
Will dam your life with dilligence.

The dog whose loyalty is constant
Waits and wags with patience.

A horse that's never riderless
Will run all day with kindliness.

The gentle lamb of allegory
Is Christ-like in humility.

The ark may not be history,
But works explaining humanity
Through eons of mythology.
He didn't really bring them in,
They weren't in danger,
We're in their skins.
The seven deadlies are accepted, but the seven virtues are up for interpretation.
pin Mar 2015
I'm like wily
You're wiry
You're thin lips
toe clippers
pinched mongrel rat's tail off
She is bleeding all over my new hands
I can't use these anymore
You're thin lips
You're coagulated
Coagulated mongrel

-----------------------------------  --------------

Laying in the bed
Bedridden
Covered in old friend's blood
Don't you wish they did
Don't you wish they dead
Don't you wanna touch me with the holy ghost for once
Danny Price Jan 2015
Eyes so serene as your body relaxed,
your passing never passed until
a gravestone was all I had.
An edged slab of marble
unwelcoming, cold,
won't compare to the lingering life
so close to behold.
I miss how I missed you
when I missed you the most,
as love's just crux howls
only when losing its host.
Thus through such virtue
I could lastly accept mine,
enough so to nurture,
and cry for my Pieta
one last time.
BertJane Perez Dec 2014
We are all born angels
Everyone at every single place
I was one such angel
But I've fallen from my grace...

Dear God forgive me
I do not wish to cause you shame
But a sin I have committed
And I'm the only one to blame...

Your virtue of love and innocence
I seem to have given away
I didn't mean to cause you trouble
So please hear me while I pray...

Dear God, I am a broken angel
My wings will no longer spread
Please forgive me and all my sins
Because disappointing you is what I dread...

I'm sorry for giving up my virtue
I'm sorry for throwing it away
Please forgive me and my sins
and please hear me while I pray...
Don't Exist Dec 2014
Purity
it portrays
it imitates
But at the same time
it clouds its own image

"Clean" it says
"Kind" it says
"Holy" it says

Then tell me why
it attracts electrons
who all have the same sinful lust for
it?

Maybe those neutron
dead and lifeless
and Heavy
can they tell the whole story
A simple poem
When mom was dying,
she felt like everything
she'd worked for
was gone.

She showed me Life
as Its steward
and Death
as Life's reward.

How to lean into
the unknowable
whether I want to
or not.

That our deeds,
carved meticulously into
the bedrock of Forever,
are immortal.

It becomes clearer
that our work
is not for us,
but for It.

This life
is service;
only what we give
is truly ours.
Written on the 10th anniversary of my mother's death - December 2, 2014.
Qweyku Nov 2014
Patience is a more lovely woman
&
her other name is Virtue.

Wait for her
&
her Kindness.

Her baskets o'er flowing

with

crimson fruit;

T o k e f.



© Qwey.ku
Patience is a virtue
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