Put me down

1.

I feel my scales go south and my weights fatigue;

all my fruits are spoiled and my wells spat in.

The walls, there I piss, those derelict walls magnifique;

rabbit- and fox holes scouring my basement brick by brick.

My heart like a heavy cauldron – so full of Sin,

what vice or perversion has not had its evil grin

in me, oh Lord Jesus, could you put down this sick!

2.

I want to go yonder and embrace your Word for real,

but all my life like fairy-tales and sunny meadow chase

around the butterflies and daffodils has been.

Nothing more sinister, than a teddy-bear have I seen.

Protected there my quiet prayers, when my hand did race

to scribble runes and poetry combined to heroic face…

Put me down, Lord Jesus, like you did Peter, for how can I redeem!

3.

How can the proud and the rich witness you, my Lord –

I know more slander words and curses, than Michael Jordan

can dunk basketballs or agitate the people on my own accord

like a serpent slivers for the birds nest word for word!

How will I suffer my neglect and petty attempts afford, man?

All those sermons so haughty, like I was you – God damn!

All those ears, what sought you, I struck down with my sword…

4.

Have I not denied you more than are pages in Webster's;

more often taken offense for matters I wasn't heeded?

Yet I draw breathe and see like Jacob your gates hipstered;

running from my cons like a white raven – a trickster!!

Why would you require my service – am I needed;

my finger is heavier as my loin, my spirit undefeated –

there is the cross in my life, like hell, perhaps there…

5.

Depart from that wrench, for I am wicked and faceless!

What has the Holy of Holies to do with the likes of me?

Alas, it suffice that you'd think like on Calvary in distress

that zealot took his prayer onto you for shared mess –

you there innocent and did no crime – the same as he,

I am unworthy of you for your time – even my dreams

like nightmares of ivory distrust, so utterly graceless…

6.

Void are my teachings and lacking is my bad faith –

when someone bumps by accident, I rip his head in two peaces.

My hollow jokes and sarcasm like the presence of a wraith;

there I go past, as though Lady Death had vollied her scythe!

If I could find the Sermon of the Mount in my heart – just traces

of a drained river in the wilderness, as the crowds of ravens amasses;

vultures sircling in as the Bible has sayeth – –

7.

Put me down, Lord Jesus, just put me down and be done,

for your mercy rips me apart and devours me whole!

All the honeycombs have been loathed and to wormwood gone;

the cheers and snickers leaving me alone like a bum

lies naked in the dark street corners and black whales…

And I am no Jonah, so cut up that frame!

But you keep treating me with regards, like the lost son...