Archive for the ‘Poetry’ Category

Soul Stanzas

Stained glass at St John the Baptist's Anglica...

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It is an endless fate,
to abnegate the weight,
to count the calories that you ate.
The reduced fat, low fat, are the bait,
only eat what fits on this tiny plate.
The tears and fears will not abate,
unless you look good for your date.
How will you ever get a mate
if you don’t find the skinny trait?
“Spend the money, fix your gait,
see this doctor, he is great!”
It doesn’t matter how long the wait,
or if you have to be up by eight,
he’ll fill the wrinkles that you hate.
The thin and beautiful pay the rate,
and you should too, before it’s too late!

Another car, cause his got keyed,
another group that she must lead,
another book she just has to read.
We all have to be the fastest steed
and that is why we need to speed.
Another skirt, another tweed.
All must take heed, or even bleed,
for us to feed the belly of greed.
We are a mighty, ungrateful breed,
from what we want, you can’t impede.
It will not matter how much you plead,
we can’t be shaken from our creed.
You might take heed, if you are agreed
that the voracious are a dangerous seed.
We will proceed, by misdeed or mislead,
for our success and your recede.

Some call it a temper, others call it a fit,
when the proudest refuse to commit.
To another’s will, we can never submit.
We struggle and fight until the marriage is split,
that we’re in the wrong, we will never admit.
People say we’re stubborn, we say it’s grit,
that we could be wrong, just doesn’t transmit.
Our friends, and our children, usually just quit,
as a parent and friend, they say we’re unfit.
The fact that we’re lonely, we usually omit,
another’s sympathy, we can never permit.
We just can’t help it; it’s how we are knit,
Get help out? We’d rather stay in the pit.
Another’s mistake, we will never forget.
We’re always on the jury, and we never acquit.
Some say we’re so nasty, we’ll skip the obit.

Insecurity or in vanity, there is no clout,
“Attention! Attention!”, they both shout.
My beauty, my style, advance and tout:
Me, me, me, is what it’s about.
Rapacity and avarice, we can’t go without.
The greed we feed deserves a talent scout.
Of generosity and compassion, we’re suffering drought.
All paths lead to us, or else we will pout.
Our opinion, our thoughts, the ideas that we spout,
the religion of Pride is where we’re devout.
Flattery, aplomb, choice idols stake out,
virtue and reticence, meekness we flout.
But, our desires and goals need a reroute
or true hope and happiness, without any doubt,
will never be realized, grow, or be stout.
For it is only for Jesus that we should sell out!

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Feed My Sheep

He could’ve been an angel,
But He chose to be a Son.
Birthed to be a Sacrifice,
But in spite of death, He wasn’t done.

He could’ve waited in the tomb
When Mary came that morn,
But He was busy working
even after the veil was torn.

He encouraged His disciples
With the Resurrection News.
He had come to tell them,
that He had paid their dues.

He fed them and He warned them
to not go back to sleep.
He asked them, “Do you love me?”
And then said, “Feed my sheep.”

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