Soul PunkA Poem by Pete"The mason asks but a narrow shelf to spring his brick from; man requires only an infinitely narrower one to spring his arch of faith from." - ThoreauHell by Hieronymus Bosch Caught up in a carnal conspiracy on the street corner. Blatantly bilingual but blessed. Nevertheless. Strolling in sarcastically on the Sabbath. Smoking a cancer stick of truth. A crooked, nefarious coffin nail. Fresh out of detention for grafitiing the grounds. Candles still burning after being lit in homeroom. Long since late for life's last bell. Leather-jacketed and lying. Sporting a tertiary tattoo. Black book tossed in my locker. Somewhere. Questioning today's lesson. Armed with arguments. A fierce, fanatical facade at the ready. The view from the front row is always much better. I take a seat in the back. Confused. Feet up and faithless. I ask a lot of questions. Sans raising my hand. Just blurt them out. Demanding to know. Staring out the window for signs of you. Launching prayerful paper clips. With rebellious rubber bands. Firing spiritual spitballs with baited breaths. Sin calls on my sanguine cell phone. Hell's hounds ate my homework again. I'll stay after for a remedial reminder. Guess I'm nothing but a damned ... ... soul punk ... © 2018 PeteAuthor's Note
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3 Reviews Added on March 27, 2018 Last Updated on April 1, 2018 AuthorPeteBoston, MAAboutI love reading, writing, music, nature, God and feeling emotion, not necessarily in that order. To me, these things go hand in hand. My favorite writer is Henry David Thoreau. I think he was a geni.. more..Writing
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