Wednesday, June 20, 2018

eight-forty

Eight-Forty
3-26-18

Can there be any peace in a mind divided
Or am I only dreaming of driving without a license or registration
And today I don't need be filled in with insignificant details
Of beverages plural serving to advance on an honest mind
For English literature blues and no television and no such news
Love is not love that alters
Loving my own shadow
Looking for Hesperides
Given the strange dream of clearing out all brambles
Where fall gambles in singing of times trans-scripting
All for nostalgia Gathas
Yet she will be almost me
Running late
Love can wait for bridal cakes as ribbands flowing confusedly
At the chime of eight-forty.....





By The Highway Imploring
3-26-18

He be of you chiefest
Yea, the servant and ghetto night and inn nearby
For the vacancy
Make room for the child in Bartimeus by the highway imploring
Where it never gets boring
O, sweet addiction my poison in her remedy
Coming not to be ministered unto but to serve
As he seeth fit apparently as shaken
Two hours remain as to familiarize myself
With my shopping list
Hallelujah, Hosanna in the Highest
And shifting powers back and forth
Despairing even to life itself
Warm weather is coming soon
Encouraged to suffer for the sake of He that makes it all possible
As to find a colt tied in a field where the groundhog lied
Crashing into that same old brick wall at eventide
Love in the name of pride.....





On Mark 14:4
3-26-18

Eating her goodies
Communing with hoodies
Snap your fingers for romance and check the motion
Reading that chapter again
This time around twenty in quarters
As two mites make a farthing
O, lion's share for Zion scare as we rise from the dead
For Ezekiel's dry bones on the Mount of Olives
Asking of Him privily yet to come out and make it public
With the powers of teleportation so it seems
When her branch is tender
Where is your Defender as a sign fulfilled
Loving Jesus in that He was a radical as well
As four students camp out in my television room
In a crowded head hoping to stay out of bed
O, why such waste
Three hundred pence could have been given to the poor!






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