The goo-goo gaggle gobble grammar
New eggs standing in a roe
Alphabetting the Blurb is Cuckoo
School kid robots on the go
Fopdoodles questing for an ology
Dilly-dally on Patagonian trek
Mead-merry escalators of industry,
Or dudes who lakh in debt?
A billion ****** bridegrooms
In taffeta take-away
Cherry-picking for the species
From the matrix DNA
Muggles meet at midlife
For a Royal English tea
Swapping apps for homemade yogurt
Just a wee bit too PC
And so the dames riddle their speechcraft
On the doublespeak roundabout
Before Alzheimer's wicked edit
Skirts the bone-house bounders **out

What is it to be righteous? To walk in godliness and purity? To hold the heart of God like the bride?
I'll admit I've felt complacent, disbelief, and traitorous. My own efforts alone have not filled my cup. But as I've fallen, as I've grown in mercy and understanding.
I recognize the shell of this existence. The temporal wasting of my eyes. I feel my lovers heart and still I want more. Not from selfish desire but because I've felt the inner working of the spirit!
The everlasting father. The bridegrooms love. And the Kings will for my life. After that, there is emptiness. A quaint shadow in the smile of beauty and passion.
All this rest inside my brain, my reasoning mind ticks with thoughtfulness. Reaching with my words to the universal will untouchable. Touchable. Touch me.
Show me. Move in me. Speak to me in my heart. God I want to know that love again. The infinity of your fire burning away my sin.

And it's odd, as I pull my bible out of its cold box. Plastered to Fear And loathing in Las Vegas. I guess I am afraid of what I'll learn. I can't keep ignoring this turbulent hope. But the promise that you are always with me. Gives me strength.

♀  ♀  ♀

Hey you! In the ******-hat,
frumpy feminist dressed in pink;
we men (what do you make of that)
would love to know just what you think.

We've heard of "***-hats", anyway.
But we can see the other side:
it's orificial bombs away
as bridegrooms now behold the bride.

Gynecology on parade:
how weird. You think it makes your point?
It's more a vaginal charade,
and promises to disappoint.

You say your cap evokes your *****;
feline foolishness, I say.
It's cat in bag when fems get fussy
showing patriarchs the way.

Show us yours and we'll show our own.
Well actually, it's kind of cold
to whip it out right here downtown...
We'll grant you this: you chicks are bold.

Your choice-aborted progeny,
disposed of in the clinic's trash,
might blame you for misogyny—
though spared the curse of diaper rash.

We'll keep abreast of all you do,
chanting, marching, fists in air...
yet still, you seem a silly crew
aflush with zeal (and ***** hair).

But must it always come to this:
biology devoid of God ?
Exteriorizing, hit and miss,
the secrets of your aging ***...

I sing of brooks, of blossoms, birds, and bowers,
Of April, May, of June, and July-flowers.
I sing of May-poles, hock-carts, wassails, wakes,
Of bridegrooms, brides, and of their bridal-cakes.
I write of youth, of love, and have access
By these to sing of cleanly wantonness.
I sing of dews, of rains, and piece by piece
Of balm, of oil, of spice, and ambergris.
I sing of times trans-shifting, and I write
How roses first came red, and lilies white.
I write of groves, of twilights, and I sing
The Court of Mab, and of the Fairy King.
I write of hell; I sing (and ever shall)
Of heaven, and hope to have it after all.

On this long, drawn out journey from the vilest of things to the sweetest smell of flowers that linger upon the air.  My journey wasn't alone I came with a sister; we walked so much I had a blister.  Along comes a bus and we're off and sitting with the discussion of things. So down to the beach we went. I could feel your wonder so as my feet hit the sand.  We were truly in another land.

A place of beauty alive with awe just for you.  I soon found myself saying Take a long look; the flowers are for you my sister to aide in your heart felt plea for others. I traveled far and wide to the land where starfish hide, purple in color.  I ask a local surfer girl to intercede for our brothers.

I gave you a skin with strings, complete with gifts and things. We asked her to ride out for the best wave of her life to release our plea at 403 at four points west, she did her utmost best.  
We stood in the sand with living waters as we watched god paint the most impossible of things.  The sunset so pure for those that received pure fresh air at a moment’s glance. My heart began to draw near and dance.

Out of the mouth of babes was pure joy to have saved the rest was the part I liked best.  My feet glued to the sand I knew you sent god for man, one to walk hand in hand.

I've smiled so big that it uncovered the diamond from within the shark’s teeth as the dolphins went crazy.  I knew what just landed, it's locked until time.

When the hour is near I'll be on time but if I'm not, please grab me so I can sit at the bridegrooms table inside of Jerusalem without a spot.

A feast of time, sentient beings, bring found favor in our hearts to save us from ourselves and let each others army live together all in one house.

Through the power of belief and ascension comes a man's redemption, through the house of David comes a silver thread of family ties.

The daughter of Moses, a true sister of Zion, a mother of love and a child of god all within four points west.

When, like cancer, people fear war and death
as a rat fears a cat;
when people detest war and death
like a dead rotten rat that spreads intolerable bad smell
which way a mad dog detests water for its hydrophobia;
when a bright city crowded like a river full to the brim
gets vacant all on a sudden just after seeing a gun-
what can the city be named then?

Avoiding war is the nature of the Queen of Sheba
because a woman means getting boiled like an egg
lying under the aggressive virility of a man
surrendering completely to his lust;
and a man is always like the King Solomon,
at whose beckoning with finger the Queen of Sheba
along with her state gets belonged to him.
But what a city is it, where the disgraced men
hearing the name of war enter the latrines running fast
like the patients of diarrhoea?
What an ill-fated country is it, where men and women
calumniate the war in their sky-rending chorus?

In ancient days women chose only knights and warriors
as their bridegrooms; and for their beloved heroes,
they made ready their shields and swords
so that they could leap into the fathomless beauty of war
if the battle-drum was heard beating.
When they returned to their homes, their wives welcomed them laying their hearts and tears of eyes under their feet.
If they got martyred, the wives felt proud of losing their husbands, as the full Moon feels proud of sacrificing
her light for the earth.

When a woman gets inclined only to her body,
when no noble thought can enter her brain
except the thought of her ******, only then
she clasps her bed-mate like pincers
listening to the sweet slogan of a procession.

But tell me, o *** men, which cancer makes men
such boneless like earth-worms?
Being affected by which tuberculosis, men start shouting heart and soul like *****, saying 'Save!Save!’
listening to the maddening war-song in the air and the sky?

When people detest war and death like a dead rotten rat that spreads intolerable bad smell which way a mad dog detests water for its hydrophobia, that habitation then
can be called a country of worthless people
where the sun should not rise ever,
it should not rain
and crops should not grow in the fields.

This is not
the time
for her
Resume  I- I sir_ with love
Above alllong

What do we write
Web-BITE He's
Beer In The Evening

And She's
All
guaranteed
Good Deeds__
Never love
expired
Marilyn Monroe
**** white dress
going way up in flight
The candle in the wind
I presume
The artist
with all
her heart of
words
Show the rainbow
room

Love Firey Boom
Tulips reading her lips
Her garden Of Eve
Became toxic
Her love needs
to
be beautified
Taking some words
out that were lied
To be justified
Madonna wearing
her bustier
Lady Madona baby
at her breast
I presume she
couldn't
handle
the rest___
I assume love for all
poem requiem
The Italian art
of the Colesium
The ((Collegium))
college chicks

There is not fancy
words for spitting
Lady-like gum
I presume humbug
Her heirloom like
her resume's
Worthy every day
a Holiday

Everlasting embossed
fourteen karat gold
paper
Abloom drawing
  The many types
of blood
rooms
Disguised costume
The court joined
judge Judy
Suspended resume
Boom all doomed
Nom De Flume
Girly powder room
Slender long
back room
He's her man is
there still room
The showroom
made a mob hit
The bridegrooms
Cornered
nook back

The Gunroom
We need to get
gun control
Save everyone's
soul
Too many
Schools
Loved ones are dying
help one another
So we can live more
Put ourselves
in a better world

The body and mind
Peace
Her resume
is like the
role of dice

What would you do if suddenly, you had to give up your perfect life? What would you do if you had to throw it all away? If God called on you to follow him and leave it all behind, would you really say. Would you make excuses as those invited to the bridegrooms dinner? Would you say to my family I must go and say goodbye? Would you be able to tell God the truth, or would you hang your head and lie? If he said follow me, and leave it all behind. What would you really say?