POEMS

This page will be dedicated to my own poetry. These are just rhymes swirling in my mind. Nothing to do with numbers per se. Perhaps they may be a blessing.

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BAALZEBUB

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At night small lights gather great swarms.

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Into the gyre they fly up higher ’til wings tire

Finding no perch they fall back to Earth

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Each light marks a site where lies killed the flies

Memorial to the unwise. Plain truth before our eyes.

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O believer in Jesus. The darkness has come.

Wait for the Sun.

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At dawn there shall be a new World for you and me.

So bright. So free.

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The Sun shall ascend – Darkness meet its end.

We never die again.

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Until then. Beware the schemes of men:

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Come! Join our swarm! Be warm!

Bring us coin! We crave to purloin!

Take our name! Other light is not the same!

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You have been warned of the doom of the swarms.

Hold tight in the night.

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Great will be your reward.

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ONE ROBIN

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One robin in one tree. Not even dawn.

He twills and he tweets his mating song.

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The Spring is late. Robin must have a date.

So on he sings. And on he sings. Tempting fate.

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The tree is high. Robin’s seat is at the peak.

Yet the branches are bare. Not a bud. Not a leaf.

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Romance is all good and you claimed a fine tree.

But love isn’t free. What to eat if you’re hungry?

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No food. No nest. No robiness.

Only a Savior.

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O SCIENCE

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Daughter of the Prophets. Seeker of Truth. In your youth.

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With wide eyes you searched the skies. Measured and surmised:

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“Nature is not wild. But tidy. Well dressed.

“In predictable fashion the Sun rises and sets.”

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Your breath like a breeze parted the seas.

You found solid ground. Shamans? They drowned.

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With zeal to learn. Night candles you burned.

On the Ox and the Cam you trained a wise man.

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Your stature grew. So did your breasts. But

Who could woo you? The virgin was pledged.

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At first a patron chair. Courtesy of a Squire. Then

funds poured in. Build the Tower even higher!

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Gold charms on your wrists. You redoubled your trysts.

Before long. Virginity gone. A whore of Tyre.

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Your bed was free love for many mighty men. They

ploughed you with glee. For king and country!

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So you taught them to build bridges and boats.

Weapons and war machines. Castles and moats.

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Men of faith were agape at your fall from Grace.

Once a pious Princess. Now so unchaste.

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Then came the errors. You hammered them like nails.

Just pin pricks. But the Wind! Drained from your sails.

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“Man came from monkeys high up in trees.”

“No such Creator God. If you please.”

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“Just a matter of time” So you opined.

“A new creature is birthed. From a different kind.”

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“More than that. Male and female appear both.”

“The better a new species to multiply most.”

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No matter to you. Truth isn’t your goal.

But to reign as a Queen over men’s souls.

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Sweet children. At your feet. Learn to repeat.

The mantra of man’s glory. All his great feats.

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Then like the Greeks. They fight in the streets.

Fists unleashed. They beat one another’s cheeks.

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Survival of the Fittest. Is your Cry.

So kindness fled. And charity died.

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By his own strength. Every man will stand.

Let the sick perish. Let the poor be damned.

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Science is a lens. It sharpens the sight.

But if eye be blind. Day is as night.

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All your books in cozy nooks are nestled. Unread.

We watch TV, movies. Cruise the Internet instead.

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Irony of ironies. Pursuit of knowledge it seems.

Made us into dummies. Brains not so keen.

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O Science. You lost your way.

For your blessing. Who will pray?

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