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THE PROLOGUE.

This worthy limitour, this noble Frere,
He made always a manner louring cheer                      countenance
Upon the Sompnour; but for honesty                            courtesy
No villain word as yet to him spake he:
But at the last he said unto the Wife:
"Dame," quoth he, "God give you right good life,
Ye have here touched, all so may I the,                         *thrive
In school matter a greate difficulty.
Ye have said muche thing right well, I say;
But, Dame, here as we ride by the way,
Us needeth not but for to speak of game,
And leave authorities, in Godde's name,
To preaching, and to school eke of clergy.
But if it like unto this company,
I will you of a Sompnour tell a game;
Pardie, ye may well knowe by the name,
That of a Sompnour may no good be said;
I pray that none of you be *evil paid;
                   dissatisfied
A Sompnour is a runner up and down
With mandements* for fornicatioun,                 mandates, summonses
And is y-beat at every towne's end."
Then spake our Host; "Ah, sir, ye should be hend         *civil, gentle
And courteous, as a man of your estate;
In company we will have no debate:
Tell us your tale, and let the Sompnour be."
"Nay," quoth the Sompnour, "let him say by me
What so him list; when it comes to my lot,
By God, I shall him quiten
every groat!                    pay him off
I shall him telle what a great honour
It is to be a flattering limitour
And his office I shall him tell y-wis".
Our Host answered, "Peace, no more of this."
And afterward he said unto the frere,
"Tell forth your tale, mine owen master dear."

Notes to the Prologue to the Friar's tale

1. On the Tale of the Friar, and that of the Sompnour which
follows, Tyrwhitt has remarked that they "are well engrafted
upon that of the Wife of Bath. The ill-humour which shows
itself between these two characters is quite natural, as no two
professions at that time were at more constant variance.  The
regular clergy, and particularly the mendicant friars, affected a
total exemption from all ecclesiastical jurisdiction,  except that
of the Pope, which made them exceedingly obnoxious to the
bishops and of course to all the inferior officers of the national
hierarchy." Both tales, whatever their origin, are bitter satires
on the greed and worldliness of the Romish clergy.


THE TALE.

Whilom
there was dwelling in my country                 once on a time
An archdeacon, a man of high degree,
That boldely did execution,
In punishing of fornication,
Of witchecraft, and eke of bawdery,
Of defamation, and adultery,
Of churche-reeves,
and of testaments,                    churchwardens
Of contracts, and of lack of sacraments,
And eke of many another manner
crime,                          sort of
Which needeth not rehearsen at this time,
Of usury, and simony also;
But, certes, lechours did he greatest woe;
They shoulde singen, if that they were hent;
                    caught
And smale tithers were foul y-shent,
         troubled, put to shame
If any person would on them complain;
There might astert them no pecunial pain.
For smalle tithes, and small offering,
He made the people piteously to sing;
For ere the bishop caught them with his crook,
They weren in the archedeacon's book;
Then had he, through his jurisdiction,
Power to do on them correction.

He had a Sompnour ready to his hand,
A slier boy was none in Engleland;
For subtlely he had his espiaille,
                           espionage
That taught him well where it might aught avail.
He coulde spare of lechours one or two,
To teache him to four and twenty mo'.
For, -- though this Sompnour wood
be as a hare, --        furious, mad
To tell his harlotry I will not spare,
For we be out of their correction,
They have of us no jurisdiction,
Ne never shall have, term of all their lives.

"Peter; so be the women of the stives,"
                          stews
Quoth this Sompnour, "y-put out of our cure."
                     care

"Peace, with mischance and with misaventure,"
Our Hoste said, "and let him tell his tale.
Now telle forth, and let the Sompnour gale,
              whistle; bawl
Nor spare not, mine owen master dear."

This false thief, the Sompnour (quoth the Frere),
Had always bawdes ready to his hand,
As any hawk to lure in Engleland,
That told him all the secrets that they knew, --
For their acquaintance was not come of new;
They were his approvers
privily.                             informers
He took himself at great profit thereby:
His master knew not always what he wan.
                            won
Withoute mandement, a lewed
man                               ignorant
He could summon, on pain of Christe's curse,
And they were inly glad to fill his purse,
And make him greate feastes at the nale.
                      alehouse
And right as Judas hadde purses smale,
                           small
And was a thief, right such a thief was he,
His master had but half *his duety.
                what was owing him
He was (if I shall give him his laud)
A thief, and eke a Sompnour, and a bawd.
And he had wenches at his retinue,
That whether that Sir Robert or Sir Hugh,
Or Jack, or Ralph, or whoso that it were
That lay by them, they told it in his ear.
Thus were the ***** and he of one assent;
And he would fetch a feigned mandement,
And to the chapter summon them both two,
And pill* the man, and let the wenche go.                plunder, pluck
Then would he say, "Friend, I shall for thy sake
Do strike thee out of oure letters blake;
                        black
Thee thar
no more as in this case travail;                        need
I am thy friend where I may thee avail."
Certain he knew of bribers many mo'
Than possible is to tell in yeare's two:
For in this world is no dog for the bow,
That can a hurt deer from a whole know,
Bet
than this Sompnour knew a sly lechour,                      better
Or an adult'rer, or a paramour:
And, for that was the fruit of all his rent,
Therefore on it he set all his intent.

And so befell, that once upon a day.
This Sompnour, waiting ever on his prey,
Rode forth to summon a widow, an old ribibe,
Feigning a cause, for he would have a bribe.
And happen'd that he saw before him ride
A gay yeoman under a forest side:
A bow he bare, and arrows bright and keen,
He had upon a courtepy
of green,                         short doublet
A hat upon his head with fringes blake.
                          black
"Sir," quoth this Sompnour, "hail, and well o'ertake."
"Welcome," quoth he, "and every good fellaw;
Whither ridest thou under this green shaw?"
                       shade
Saide this yeoman; "wilt thou far to-day?"
This Sompnour answer'd him, and saide, "Nay.
Here faste by," quoth he, "is mine intent
To ride, for to raisen up a rent,
That longeth to my lorde's duety."
"Ah! art thou then a bailiff?" "Yea," quoth he.
He durste not for very filth and shame
Say that he was a Sompnour, for the name.
"De par dieux,"  quoth this yeoman, "leve* brother,             dear
Thou art a bailiff, and I am another.
I am unknowen, as in this country.
Of thine acquaintance I will praye thee,
And eke of brotherhood, if that thee list.
                      please
I have gold and silver lying in my chest;
If that thee hap to come into our shire,
All shall be thine, right as thou wilt desire."
"Grand mercy,"
quoth this Sompnour, "by my faith."        great thanks
Each in the other's hand his trothe lay'th,
For to be sworne brethren till they dey.
                        die
In dalliance they ride forth and play.

This Sompnour, which that was as full of jangles,
           chattering
As full of venom be those wariangles,
               * butcher-birds
And ev'r inquiring upon every thing,
"Brother," quoth he, "where is now your dwelling,
Another day if that I should you seech?"                   *seek, visit
This yeoman him answered in soft speech;
Brother," quoth he, "far in the North country,
Where as I hope some time I shall thee see
Ere we depart I shall thee so well wiss,
                        inform
That of mine house shalt thou never miss."
Now, brother," quoth this Sompnour, "I you pray,
Teach me, while that we ride by the way,
(Since that ye be a bailiff as am I,)
Some subtilty, and tell me faithfully
For mine office how that I most may win.
And *spare not
for conscience or for sin,             conceal nothing
But, as my brother, tell me how do ye."
Now by my trothe, brother mine," said he,
As I shall tell to thee a faithful tale:
My wages be full strait and eke full smale;
My lord is hard to me and dangerous,                         *niggardly
And mine office is full laborious;
And therefore by extortion I live,
Forsooth I take all that men will me give.
Algate
by sleighte, or by violence,                            whether
From year to year I win all my dispence;
I can no better tell thee faithfully."
Now certes," quoth this Sompnour,  "so fare
I;                      do
I spare not to take, God it wot,
But if* it be too heavy or too hot.                            unless
What I may get in counsel privily,
No manner conscience of that have I.
N'ere* mine extortion, I might not live,                were it not for
For of such japes
will I not be shrive.           tricks *confessed
Stomach nor conscience know I none;
I shrew* these shrifte-fathers
every one.          curse *confessors
Well be we met, by God and by St Jame.
But, leve brother, tell me then thy name,"
Quoth this Sompnour.  Right in this meane while
This yeoman gan a little for to smile.

"Brother," quoth he, "wilt thou that I thee tell?
I am a fiend, my dwelling is in hell,
And here I ride about my purchasing,
To know where men will give me any thing.
My purchase is th' effect of all my rent        what I can gain is my
Look how thou ridest for the same intent                   sole revenue

To winne good, thou reckest never how,
Right so fare I, for ride will I now
Into the worlde's ende for a prey."

"Ah," quoth this Sompnour, "benedicite! what say y'?
I weened ye were a yeoman truly.                                thought
Ye have a manne's shape as well as I
Have ye then a figure determinate
In helle, where ye be in your estate?"
                         at home
"Nay, certainly," quoth he, there have we none,
But when us liketh we can take us one,
Or elles make you seem
that we be shape                        believe
Sometime like a man, or like an ape;
Or like an angel can I ride or go;
It is no wondrous thing though it be so,
A lousy juggler can deceive thee.
And pardie, yet can I more craft
than he."              skill, cunning
"Why," quoth the Sompnour, "ride ye then or gon
In sundry shapes and not always in one?"
"For we," quoth he, "will us in such form make.
As most is able our prey for to take."
"What maketh you to have all this labour?"
"Full many a cause, leve Sir Sompnour,"
Saide this fiend. "But all thing hath a time;
The day is short and it is passed prime,
And yet have I won nothing in this day;
I will intend
to winning, if I may,               &nbs
Geraldine Taylor Jun 2017
Unique, engrafted into the vine

Caring father, that is mine

Renewed mind, advancing song

Beloved, beheld, made to belong

Becoming dawn, where shadows flee

Emitting peace so gracefully

Presence, purpose, soul awake

Beyond ourselves, a choice to take

Surrounding shield will fortify

You cleanse, restore and purify

Captured mind, enabled wise

A glorious eternal prize

Your strong hand is filled with might

Fill my thoughts with your insight

Begotten son had paid the price

No greater worthy sacrifice

Unique, engrafted into the vine

I am his and he is mine



Written by Geraldine Taylor ©
Criss Jami May 2014
I have to admit
That I immediately knew what the media meant
As I grew up I drew out-
Side lines
Meaning kinds when you omit the 'n' so I'm sent
To set askew a few lies, yes my butterfly knife flies like a feather pen oh I've been

A berserker moving farther
Further herding words heard for war it's forward

But since before he was drafted roughly but justly
Just to sink in ink engrafted ****** because he's
Made for brigades who blockade it to shock it
Force it shoot it and make it play its poor music to Bach it
Oh face it, we rock it

The battalion's out there and they're shouting
I'm silent but they rattle
Yeah my rabble of stallions, they're rowdy

But of course, off course it is not all Norse my love because
They say the other north
Yeah your horizontal course turned up with a
Tincture of madness
And that is the one, single error and I'm glad of it
If you catch it
Maybe a troublemaker by nature but baby a peace speaker missing demeanor
With misdemeanors when getting meaner
But I practice a bit
In an out-there train re-accident be-

Cause the battalion's out there while they're shouting
I'm silent but they rattle rapidly
Yeah my rabble of battle lions rabid
To vaporize vapid rabbits
They're rowdy and
And love is getting much louder than growling it's
It's sounding much louder than growling
As a decrepit father takes delight
To see his active child do deeds of youth,
So I, made lame by Fortune’s dearest spite,
Take all my comfort of thy worth and truth.
For whether beauty, birth, or wealth, or wit,
Or any of these all, or all, or more,
Entitled in thy parts, do crownèd sit,
I make my love engrafted to this store.
So then I am not lame, poor, nor despised,
Whilst that this shadow doth such substance give
That I in thy abundance am sufficed
And by a part of all thy glory live.
    Look what is best, that best I wish in thee.
    This wish I have; then ten times happy me!
Brady D Friedkin Apr 2016
Colossae
April 28, 2016

Oh Colossae, where have you gone to hide yourself from the Lord?
Colossae, why have you wandered away from the fold of God?
Have you forgotten the words of St. Paul, the man who brought you the news
Colossae, why have you departed from the ways of the Lord?
Oh Colossae, where hast thou gone?

Colossae, have you forgotten the Word which became flesh?
Have you Colossae, a city of unholiness, forgotten of the promise of newness
Oh Colossae, how quickly you have fallen into uncleanliness
From dust you came and to dust you shall return
But must you, oh Colossae, so quickly descend to the dirt of the earth?

Oh Colossae, you cut off limbs afraid of the flesh
As if less flesh could make you more holy
You believe that this gnostic theology saves you from your sins
But only God incarnate in flesh can save
Oh Colossae, forget not the Savior who made you new

Colossae, forget not the Spirit of God, the very giver of life
He descends upon you and makes you holy,
He proceeds from the Father and the Son, and is worshiped and glorified
He is not one to worship alone, or to give identity alone
For that you have been united with Christ, who proceeds from the Father

Colossae, remember not this heresy of mysticism
There is this flood of culture and thought
Oh Colossae, be not drowned by this flood
And forget not the great unity the Body is to be
Forget this heresy to which you have come to love

Oh Colossae, you worship angels and men, yet too God
But you know, oh Colossae that the Lord on High is worth the worship
For these messengers from heaven may bring the Word of the Lord
But certainly, oh Colossae, they are not the Word which became flesh
Oh Colossae, forget these ancient heresies, and raise up the Lord Jesus

Oh Colossae, you partook in the Holy Communion of His Body and Blood
And baptized in the death and resurrection
Anointed with oil like the kings of old
Engrafted into the marriage of the Lord Jesus and His bride
Oh Colossae, you are one Body, abandon it not

Oh Colossae, return to the Lord!
Come back to the land of your spiritual fathers
Where they worshipped the Lord in all goodness
Come back to this land of orthodoxy
Oh Colossae, repent of this heresy against the Lord!

Oh Colossae, how we have followed path you have trod
To forget the redemption by which we are saved
To remember not the works of the Lord, perpetrated that we might freely live
That we have forgotten to live holy lives
Oh Colossae, how we have fallen in line with you and the Church of yesterday

Too have we, this Church of the modern age, departed like you, Colossae
We have succumbed to these heresies of forgetting our Lord Jesus
Oh Colossae, we have fallen, like you, and dirtied ourselves from holiness
We have descended to the depths of the sea like the rest of the world
Too we are drowning in our sorrows and our sins and unholiness

Oh come Lord Jesus
And redeem us, like Colossae, back into Your holiness
Come Lord Jesus
And renew our troubled lives, bring us back into Your holiness
Oh come Lord Jesus
A poem written on the heresies and the rebuke of St. Paul to the church of Colossae in the letter to the Colossians
Geraldine Taylor Sep 2017
Aaran: Let sleeping lilies lie, come what may
Each season has its time
In a field of gold blossoming, promises of spring
Of quality delights, yet but one is mine
Selected at their prime
Time is of such essence, render my heart s-t-i-l-l
Enamoured by this quest
O’er craggy hills, set on high
A myriad of mountains, piercing the sky
Through valleys of low, sifting through the land
A humble search within, of untold promises
Of whom is it I seek?
With the choicest picks of many
A fresh vineyard of plenty
Of room for such bold gallantry

Pearl: If nature tells a tale, is it such truth that I will seek
Of incomparable promises, adoration from above
A sacred lavished love, freely unconditional
Let righteousness prevail
A redirected ship sets sail
To steer towards his ways
Lest I avert love’s true course
A freewill field of freedom
With the choicest picks of many
A fresh vineyard of plenty
Yet a tarnished trail, leads to solemn ruin

Aaran: With renewed clarity, I’ll endeavour to please
Yet only one can appease, unwholesome ways
Bless my earnest days
In seeking you
Of desiring truth
Draw me back to you
Present wonders and clues
Yet of whom could fathom
Of my own understanding
Dare I leaneth not
To acknowledge truly the king of kings
Yet will my offering be pleasing to thee?
With a patchwork of progress
Yet to digress!
Misguided in the mix
Would thou now fix
To so fill a void
Of actions mistimed
Such an opportune time
Yet in this vineyard of plenty
I have selected not

Pearl: With vivid retrospection, beyond a quick glance
To recapture redirection
Choices not to my betterment
Such steps lead to a
F
A
L
L
A calling forth to consciousness
A gentle quiet voice
To hasten towards unfolding arms
Re-establish the connection
My Sovereign protection
My keeper, my guide
Of unharnessed energy
Be rechannelled set me free
No longer captive, twas lost – now found
Now replanted on solid ground
Such land is lush, fertile for growth
The gift of grace, bestowed on me
Yet interlaced with love for me
Search my heart
Explore the depths of my soul
Of a contrite spirit, a new heart in me
A catalyst for change, rearrange my compartments
Renovate from within
With purposeful living
Let it be so declared
Replanted in the vineyard
Encircled in care

Aaran: Where is my equal, of mirrored completeness?
Rare unwinding roads, let me venture to find
With cascades of choice
Yet a still small voice
Calls me back to thee
To search so diligently
Of the selection
Beyond our protection
A compromised yield – from a field of choice
Of qualities unqualified
A diminished light
Yet captured in your sight
I could run ahead, but a thousand miles
With aims to hide
Strayed from the path
Yet you would find me!
Like whispering leaves – you follow me!
I am your child
“Draw back to me”
Such energy spent
A tent of retreat

Pearl: If I am yours and you are mine
Here engrafted into the vine
With offers of replenishment
Drawn towards a living well
In essence to thirst, for a fragrant spring
From the wilderness, lest I return
With all that I yearn
I give to you!
There are no secrets hidden from view
You know my thoughts
You know my ways
You have carried me through all of my days
Sunlit rays of hope shines through
A maker of all things new
Apart from you – bereft of truth
Of magnitude
In wondrous awe of all you do
I surrender all to you



Aaran: Let their be none of me, but all of you
Without your workmanship – I build in vain
No substance of change
Effort exhaustion
To bear no truth
Outside of your will, no perfection of peace
Fruitful production will cease
Of majestic wonders, your sovereignty reigns
Your craftsmanship unparalleled
Emboldened tower of excellence
Such is your wisdom, of invested time
Creations of the divine
On the heights of love
Exceedingly above
All created things
Exhibited signs of majesty
Concerning me, you tend to my case
Casting all of my cares
Of honourable justice
Cocooned in compassion
Love unending
Continually the same
You reign on high
There is power in the name

Pearl: Soulfully renewed, with a sound mind
Confine the spirit of fear
Wash me with blessedness assured
Cloth me with sacred strength
Direct thy paths
Of intrinsic value placed in me
Keep me hidden and close to thee
Blossomed fruits of maturity
As a living vessel
Radiate your royalty
Of such a season as this
Rested beneath your wings
Guard my heart
A time of preparation
Be formed and refined
Yielded to the master’s plan
I shall seek your face
Of sovereign splendour
A veil of grace
In the midst of your shadow
For your appointed to find
Of your perfect timing
Of your perfect will
A laid foundation
A covering of silk
A precious pearl
A virtuous call
Of standards to surpass
With favour from high

Aaran: Instil in me, due diligence
To plough the field in solitude
Exuding excellence
In the accomplishment of a purposed will
Restorative rest
From tests and trials
Of requisite skills and character
Create room for special providence
A shadow of insight
Of your wondrous works
Let the vine be preserved
In season, to make the acquaintance of
A significant love
Of help to protect thee
Righteously reserved
To enlighten thee
A time of revealing
At a distance awaits
Preservation of patience
In your image created
Promises belated outside of your will
Of futile attempts to evade your plan
For I am not my own
There is help in you alone
Presented cares at your throne
In your presence may I stay

Pearl: One cannot underestimate motives established
In opposition to
For outsiders of the recognition
Of my true valuation
Let them locate me not
With casted lots they can but ill afford
You know my worth
You have me preserved
In safe keeping
Until an appointed time
True justice is thine
Let your kingdom advance
Counterfeit collectors
Of no business in here
Adorn me with your covering
Glory be to you
With humility and honour
To seek your truth
There is none like you
Blessed be the temple
I have been redeemed
For he is my keeper
Let me return to thee
A prized and treasured purchase
Such gems are rare
As a living sacrifice
Be pleasing to thee
Honour you in worship
With mindfulness take heed

Aaran: There is a ruler in the land
Of covenants and commands
A mighty love
With jealousy, of mercies that endure
He reigns forever more
Of the future and before
Of granted seasons
In spirit to discern
Of faithful steps where I am tested
To stretch established trust
“Will you walk with me, to a place that you know not”
With former ways forgot
A courageous look ahead
In spirit and in truth
Let me follow you
Every facet of my being
Awesome depths of knowledge, wisdom and understanding
Of paths to pursue
On ahead we shall go

Pearl: Do they possess your righteousness?
Were they sent in your name?
They have not your likeness
Conflicting with your plan
They bring no completeness
Disharmony abounds
With such fruitless planting
Upon rocky ground
Yokes of inequality to establish not
Presenting common gifts to exclusivity
Of access unauthorised
Of acts to displease
Claims of validation
Such will be disproved
Of a different team they are
Of their travels from afar
Of which of these can be after your own heart?
To see beyond the shell
Where favour cannot reside
Cast away their pride
Return from whence you came
Patience is a virtue
Let my life exemplify
With your gardening of reason
Of true love amplified

Aaran: To trust in your timing
Let your ways become my ways
Recharge my focus
The potter moulds the clay
A rebirth of integrity
A calling forth to lead
Of due responsibility
Opportunities embraced
So I shall arise
Evolving ever wise
Symbolising service
Blessed to be a blessing
Gracefully equipped
Faithfully serving
With reverence so aligned
Of seasons placed on time
Of suitable design
A man of the divine
A vessel of virtue
A good thing I will find

Pearl: An objective of order
Contemplating eyes
For whatsoever you find, that is unlike you
Be extracted, be removed
Reestablishment be loosed
One appointed master
Of obedience to you
Old ways be overturned
Of varied lessons learnt
Refurbish and restore
Bring your authority
Be the head about the door
Brought beyond brokenness
Restorer of joyfulness
Complement contentedness
Companion incomparable
Character in confidence
That of transformation
Faith in the intangible
Supernaturally sure
Intentional living
All of which I strive
No desire to arrive
Countering complacency
His bold divinity, will enhance my days
Divine provider of wealth
Of spiritual health
He stands in the gap
A bringer of true balance
His care is unabridged

Aaran: At such an appointed time
A climate of change
I will recognise my dearest
With opened eyes
Like the dawn of sunrise
I will be drawn to thee
Of natural beauty
He will spiritually advise
To have found the one
In accordance with your blueprint
Of events orchestrated
Of joyfulness elated
How precious is thee!
Seemingly hidden from view
With devotion to development
That our paths would cross
To begin our journey
In one accord
Of such blessings to afford
To one day so stand before
Our maker
Declarations of love and commitment to thee
Of such a blessed vision
One day realised
For until such a time
Let me wait upon the Lord
To seek first his righteousness
Before our holy covenant
I shall wait on thee

Pearl: As events unfold
Let all that you touch upon turn into gold
With wonders of mystery
Bold miraculous signs
Nature’s seasons ever changing
Truly divine
With no division of time
Of cares undivided
Due attention to you
Reveal to me your truths
As I soulfully meditate upon your daily word
Lest I depart from righteous ways
Lead me all of my days
May I cling to you
Love’s loyal devotion
Blissfully lost in your word
You guide me as light
By day and by night
Enlightened watchtower of constancy
Exalt you in your sanctuary
For you have created a work in me
For your word shall not return to you void
In you I shall prosper
Accomplish I will
Of promises spoken
Shall come to pass
Let your divine order take precedence
Let my cup runneth over
Bring wholesomeness
Your blessed investment concerning me
Left not alone
You called me as your own
Selectively sought and set apart
To kneel before you with humility
Your goodness washing over me
How much greater can this be?

Aaran: A creator above all
You catch me when I fall
Of whom could match the wondrous treasure I have found in you
The sacred gift of your beloved son
For my salvation
With victory already won
In fellowship with you
So to feast upon the bread of heaven
My daily fill
You are my strength and you are my shield
A fortified fortress that stands on high
There is none like you
No tower could be built, that could surpass you
Of whom could reach you with earthly hands
Or overrule your divine plans
To fathom the works of your mighty hands
Truly appointed before my formation
You laid the foundations
Of which to create
Blessedly ordained
For your holy purpose
Qualified
I will embrace
Thou art is divine......

To read the remainder of the poem please purchase on Amazon
Mr Xelle Nov 2014
180
I placed my focus on the ground,
My smile is just something that been burning on.

Cause joy don't come from the proud
And pleasure don't give you security.

Well I'm just saying don't let it them down, just because someone talk about what they don't know...
Bound people meant to be set free,
The broken was meant to be engrafted and redeemed
Come you got this don't give up now!
I believe you when you believe in me..

"Well I don't just wanna always keep putting you down and going back to things I use to think".
-Me
But still right now I call you down
I still believe in you even if you don't believe in me.

Do you believe?
-God
Between the eyes and on the temples,
the untold things in detail,
are engrafted in the language of pain,
sprung from the involuntary locomotion of thoughts.
The ghastly moments in horror stories I read
in childhood become innocuous and comforting.
They come and disappear into
the disorderly paraphernalia of guilt
and sinfulness, typical of the young minds,
embracing a horrific algorithm
spun around nights and days, and days and nights.
Very many things rave and rampage into there–
they knock and pull and strain and hurt
in restive sleep of howling gusts and gales.
How long will the storms numberless rankle it?
These are not futile cravings– cease,
CEASE the ruction of this smallest land, yet
as enormous as the volume of the universe;
moving or what?
Lull the sleepless pupils on the hearth, lead them
to the lush and tranquil island.
Is a fabled nowhere your resort? How will the
crumbling sinews react to this? I rose and found
a noisy market, where plies a train everyday,
vague and vacant.
Daniel Albright Sep 2020
A Poem: Perifano ánthropoi.*

It's yeast in a warm water
It makes people dance to the tune of a flatter
It lives in the heart of self lovers and praisers
Not just the Igbos, even the Yorubas are its rearers


They feel they're eagles
Hence, they shouldn't give the hens chick a giggle
Not considering that God has put the answer to Lifes riddle
In the chicks brain needle


They reject rebuke
They believe they've known all the books
Relating with their fellow dreaming eagles
They'll descend into prides *** of stubbles


Honouring the affluent
Debunking their myopic, hungry and foolish desires speaking with a voice that is fluent
They are beside themselves and care less for others
Leaving a bad example for others


Money makes them inflated
Money won't take them beyond the grave that would be engrafted
They live under moneys control and in its school of foolishness
Worshipping it and spending it alone in selfishness


They are the mobile, "notice me" sign post
Speaking of every asset in foolishness toast
They live in yeasts swollen coil
They are Perifano ánthropoi.


© Daniels Pen ™ 2020.

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