Nobody Likes You

 

Luk16:1-13; Mat8:22; 2Ki3:11; 2:23j; 1Ki19:15-21; 2:36-46; Ho2:1-4; Isa8:12-15; 29:13-16; 1Cor1:17-2:5; 2Sa16:5-10

1.

Nobody likes you, until you given up;

lost your colours in the Jinxes strew.

Shown, that you're but a shadowy buck;

a wraith on the wall, who ran out of fuck.

They want to see how your story grew,

before they pull the plug and catwalk a mew!

Amused for the dazed and confused: smug daisy duck!

2.

Pledging to honour your words and hold the line;

the moment you're back to work – “they have not eaten!”

while the breadcrumbs still on the lips chime.

You there not enough, to satisfy the lime.

Stoned into the Immurement, for sins what hath been beaten!

Nobody likes you, but Jesus, listen Heathen;

let your body be relieved from the battlefields of Life.

3.

Nobody likes your resolve, until it serves their purpose;

when you tag along or rally their flags and anthems.

Forgotten invisible, the moment you need to purr poised;

cold shoulders telling the tale of fairy's who broke the hose.

Like a mosquito in a vacuum, before ripped apart the Shanters –

Trust in the Holy Spirit, and find your path through their antlers!

Stand on the roofs undeterred, to marry you Gomer, Hosea!!

4.

Nobody wants your holy grounds, but to take a piss;

see your golden walls, but to paint charts and graphics –

those Giraffe's and geared Alps, giving Iron Maiden a kiss:

“Who are you, to die on that hill, not even on my list, you wish!”

no Gerard to serve your summons, no ghostknight fan-fix

but a trotting fox, stomping their boots on the gourd, just for clicks.

They had their reward, you move on to the Greatest Hit their missed!

5.

You're the Rock and Hard place, Jesus built His throne!

Ye ravens and wolves, leave the mirror empty behind –

nobody likes you, but you can Love for the Crown.

Be that Heroine, they called too girly to stand alone!

Man of God, accept your fate, let them bury their blinds;

those who walk on waters and mountaintops, not lost but defind –

this is your chance to fine your own charges, and say the Bone!

6.

You're the Hoe, what Jesus takes to plough and reap;

Gomer offered as bride to take away doom and gloom!

Listen Callous, be Sanctified like Tanya, even weighed cheap;

for don't fear the Meneh Tekhel from Shimei, horns he shall keep!

Be that powder, what grows Jinx to Cornerstone the Boom –

Scandals are to catch the Bear with me, baldie, come down soon!

Be my Holy Fool, Hey broker, even then Abyss gazed deep!!

Elves United

 

1.

Dancing on the debris of Fromm pedigree, as your destiny

to distinguish a child from an adult, for the Porn night.

The corsage was lit, so was the tux the greatest shit but tiny –

destitute, the clits lost its P cliché for the award whiny...

Framing the poetry for the sake of audience, out with the lights;

the nightingales shall soon be following the ashtrays in tights!

Who dost love a Robin Hood story tuned Max Payne in a buy me?

2.

What value has not been diluted with lamp-oil and snake-oil sales;

to jail any free tinker, who would Jinx in their Arcade for Jubilee?

For all hath been creators and gods, but shall fall down from Yale;

dying their hair pink, like Harward, for God is dead, the G's staled

Him. Would the next forest Hermit please stund up and be Slim-Spree!

Who wouldn't think of the children to avoid Nazi, at least Naši gale;

Pedos the new Pretorians, who raise the flag of stagnation in stains.

3.

Snake eyes to the guys, who cosplayed high elves and forgot a white ork;

it was supposed to lead all the others to the promised land, as promilled

by Genova. His witnesses dyed their hair white, ambitions in green-york.

I don't need a church to read the Bible, or tell a savant from a dork!

I mill free cards to search-tree the house of ours, the cars scar killed

the plain and simple thrill of having nothing to slay, but a close shave til'

the next Becket spills his blood for the King of England and fork.

4.

Uniting the elves, what need no ring of Chowder, to get loud;

the lions who could laugh at their own discretion either-or!

Denned between a cornerstone and the chosen bread of clouds.

Only the Ravens could tell the tale, untitling the tilted ploughs;

The camels who smoke sheep for breakfast neither bored

nor confused by the contemporary sciences silence the Lord.

Who could check their credentials to cast out demons, Hound?

Point of Hew

 

1.

As specs con the spectator sub specie jumping the gun;

the sepulture of the void, was reading the Hew brewed new.

I wanted to stew some stern thoughts contemplating my stoic run;

simulation had some glitches no games to plain the script stunned.

Whatever the champions of Hewbrews said: “Nothing Cerial but post-due!”

packages for the random indominant anthem of baseless clues;

to be post-All unhinged in the power creep for the next pun.

2.

Hun, did you C my slippers or was it formatted Attila.xls?

Casual inquiries diary the dialysis of societies ovaries;

when everything brushed effeminate to be bossed in excess.

Grl-Pwr like the roar of a predator Praetor clutching nicked chests;

the crosses there marked to the lost souls to market canaries;

the point what was made, was strewn together in the itinerary.

The message got lost in the translation and taken hostage lest –

3.

Couldn't tell, if the ghouls there shelling sharks, or snarky coms linked,

the next Sephiroth to abandon his genepool. It depended on the point,

what was somewhere in between the Apogee and hallmarked thinks;

hues, too blues, to be brothers in arms, but still almed some Rolex kinks!

I had to spark the conversation, but my connection timed out of joints.

All over the place, as the shattered virtuosos there craving for loins,

countepoise; hammers and anvils. The antlers and cucks there jinxed.

4.

Protecting the Sirens to sound war to the sound of silence, lest

one single drunken sailor, could escape the transition from Alive

to woke, still not dreadnaught enough to not best.

Sound asleep are our leaders, bottoms feeding sheepest;

new words and corrected hews, to shine right hive.

Whilst the underground peers to the east, selling five –

West was renamed to New-South Bronx, for the context.

True Villain

 

1.

Its not the Army of great Power, the nation of Prowess;

not the Warlock Ultimate, who casts spells through the night.

It is a Woman, who wants to tame your More to less;:

to either or your big score, then you create a new chess.

When all hath been created, she will become your bride;

to give you peace, then you long for the last stand and rite.

Behold, soldier you are called for betters than duress!

2.

Its not the treason, what rends flesh, nor the poison of the quilt;

its the friends, who understand, but want to hold on to the kiln!

For what hath God to do Belial's or divine with mundane bills;

venture on your thorny spires, and don't care when spit is willed!

For those who cast stones, hold onto altars horns, who praise chill,

change their mind like Wind. Just as forsaken Jesus at Golgatha hill –

don't relent on yours Gethsemane just to win a Pilates hilt...

3.

Its not the weakness of the flesh, nor the meekness of the soul;

its your own family, you need to leave and let them go!

For just as in marriage does, the Man forsakes his own as foul;

to seek what He was destined to, for Love eternal he but could!

May the Lion roar at markets, or the Bear your ways turn: Lo' –

stand your ground, for All-Mighty with you, He'll make through

them like a torrent of Hail-fire, cast you from His Right hand mould!!

Stand Up, Comedian

 

1. Stand up, Comedian, as you coom in the redial;

   go Median, chasing after the Minotaur, with no cord.

   Real Men don't Tate on Faith; One Hate hares the white

   rabbits belate. I choose to reject this poisoned vial!

2. Stand from your Alms Race, embarrass the lukewarm grace;

   laughing at Ego to Id is not mid but the Holy Grail!

   Fame the untamed mane of your Pride, not in line;

   let the blind fellow the one eyed King, as they forget face.

3. Stand for all of Us, to be the product and firmament we need;

   to breed, bleed, heed and feed – no pardon on this list.

   Sometimes Wormwood or vinegar, a little bit honeycomb;

   the gilded shower Zeus fucked Danae, so Perseus could Read.

4. Stand like Solomon, born of incestuous Love;

   the firstborn was slaughtered, and He hidden under Jedidiah.

   Those, who are loved by God, can still forsake as brats –

   remember thus and Damocles your turtledoves.