A facility he had not used
But about it already enthused:
A not funny challenging toilet,
Water needing like Pontus Pilate:
Just to climb it effusive pride bruised
And when one was through with it still mused
Twelve litres of water when not late:
What one might be right to tag Plain Fate
The wildest cats would towards its slouch,
The wildest man on it limply crouch;
Not a convenience you'd for it vouch,
Found faults in the nastiest language crouch.
Hey I'm not obsessed, that's not evil..
your mind is just full of evil that you can't see
beauty in handmade..
Don't criticize, just look at your woman's waist
without a waistband that's a waste of waist..
Buy her "Waist Bead", Let her glow while you stare with sensation...
Let the vim of the waist bead vanquish the spirit of dysfunction and make you a Gladiator in the house of Pontus..
Let you enter the arena and battle while holding your lance like Bacca..
Let the sound of the waist bead summon the spirit of satisfaction...
Let you be bewitched by the waist bead and have a well module immune system
The candles are extinguished today and the crucifix covered in black
for the One whos life was once bludgeoned with ignorance and greed
As He readied for heaven, he took each heavy Pontus whack
for sake of a world that could not accept nor believe, His Holy Creed
Some repented while others shouted profanities and ignored His tears
as He carried the Cross towards His final resting place, He slowly wept
the sky, grueling dark unbending, did not shed the rain nor smear
while His laced up sandals walked the sand without God's intercept
"But If I, With The Finger Of God," He once implied before he died
but this was not to be, for the Son of God belonged to man's transfix
He walked through throngs and herds as he closed the great divide
they watched, as clustered Halos grew around His bloodied Crucifix
But If I, With The Finger Of God could wipe away His pain
be more then just a writer recalling His death with ink and quill
The world would be changed as I know it, and He would Reign
Yes He is the One who died but also, the One they could not kill.
"Stop! I come before you in earnest heed
I stand before you assault I plead
I have forgiven you for your misdeeds
You are, I am, we are freed,
~Go before those who hate
Those pontus ones who think they looks great
You're selfish you abolish
You are, I am, we are free"
...And all I wanna be
Is in your grace
No longer slapped in the face
~Nay sayers
Keep your salivated spit in your mouth
Hypocrite
You are, I am, we are freed"
5/3/20
Written words by James Edward Lee Sr 2020
Long Term Solution
It has come to my attention that the moon is capable growing green
bananas, goats and sheep but not cattle as they emit too much gas
into the planet`s thin surface can live there.
if we send refugees there as pioneers they are forbidden to smoke
tobacco although, to the great surprise to the first moon lander found
an empty packet of Camel which of course was planted there by young
Putin to blame the USA. Also should the Settlers who make life difficult for
the Palestinians should run out of land to a new Jerusalem can be built
in one of the moon`s craters.
Europe has like Pontus Pilatus washed her delicate hands of the refuge
problem let us construct spaceships that must be paid for by migrants,
but beware they can one day switch off the light.