Thoughts on Saturday

If I were to decide to mind my own business,

I think it would hurt

You.

Curiosity killed the cat,

Eight lifetimes in.

To give up

Would be so boring.

Masquerade

The headdress alone towers and glitters.

Feet adorned in boots. 

Scandal and flamboyance, 

Yet quiet, and still.

See the colours, 

See the dance. 

Watch the curves I show you. 

Look at the feathers on my arms. 

I am in the crowd.

We all sashay. 

Deep bass washes over us. 

Bada dada, papada, da. 

.. / .- -- / .. -. / - .... . / -.-. .-. --- .-- -..

.. / .- -- / .. -. / - .... . / -.-. .-. --- .-- -..

.. / .- -- / .. -. / - .... . / -.-. .-. --- .-- -..

.. / .- -- / .. -. / - .... . / -.-. .-. --- .-- -..

Gluttony

Is Gluttony Chastity's opposite? 

Am I inside my creed? 

Is my humanity meaningful, 

Without a satiated need?

What do you make of deprivation,

If I call it fasting?

What do you call loneliness,

When it is everlasting? 

My steps make echos on the road.

People follow, when I'm long gone.

The mouth, now smaller than the body.

Why so very different here?

The risk of sate, a formidable fence.

Let every action be clear.

My God.

Imagine my chagrin.

When I realised. 

I was made to worship:

My God was clear. 

Some slipped in:

I worshipped earnestly.

I realise my error.

I stepped outside my creed.

Imagine my chagrin,

When I see

Statues,

All over my heart.

Yes, they were: 

One at a time.

But shrines,

They were.

Righteous I felt,

Wanting the gods together.

Stating Some Intentions

There is no poetry in me right now, so this list will have to suffice:

1. Love in every moment. 
2. Fight (to bloody nose and mouth) for faith. 
3. Hold the shape. 
4. Watch myself commune. 
5. Savor the pilgrimage. 
6. Remove expectation.
7. Insert. 
8. Love yourself, darling. 

Some Small Comfort?

How lonely is God? 

Yhwh must be. 

No point of reference;

No beginning, nor end.

I can't imagine, 

What it would be like to sit in silence. 

For so long. 

You make beings to love You;

But You await their choice.

You want their virtue,

A purity only You provide.

I have a reference point; 

A beginning, and end. 

Sometimes the silence deafens

Sometimes, I have no one to talk to. 

What is it like to be surrounded by fools?

Yet, You choose to love.

You also ask,

To be chosen.

  

Encouragement

She does not use her fists, but her courage. 

She does not overpower, but gently persists.

With conviction, through prolonged thought,

She remains steadfast. 

On pilgrimage, she finds love;

Bringing it home each time. 

She labours the soil and waters the earth;

With patience, she waits.

Exerting herself has become a reward

She must choose wisely to receive.

She crafts strength like jars of clay,

Placing each one in her home.