Acolyte Poems

His favorite protégée
Mentors her day by day
You are his curious delight 
You're always affable
And so unflappable
Yes you're his favorite acolyte

Though your aura's sacred chic
Radiating cool mystique
Your life story does bespeak
Constant fight

His patronage for your art
Remains for you're his dear heart
Shine...Read More

She holds me in magnetic fascination,
a force beyond control, beyond delight...
I turn to her in helpless adoration.

Her steely grip is my emancipation, 
the liberating sense that all is right -
she holds me in magnetic fascination.

I thrill at my unwilling subjugation,
so...Read More

Poverty chained to a flagpole — 
I was ivory told,
my ebony soul
got set free by a publican vote

A historic hot mess
was cleaned up
with a profitable confess
Anthem chimes tolled cold data technology
halted the reptilian ingress

Crooked logic
delivered straight ghetto
A rich lie always...Read More

As poured for you, a glass of regal red,
a liquid ruby, a weighty gemstone,
a fruit in itself, fallen or fresh picked
with fragrant promise, offering a purse 
of favours to the loyal acolyte.

Charged by Summer thirty years gone by,
the clarity of...Read More

Bare skull and cross bones
     existence on the peripheral
     outskirts of poker flats
lives a slip of a man,
     whereat he never felt deserving
     accolades...Read More

Beethoven to roll over,
     dee composing
     (sans my zany brainy adherence
     to "FAKE" information I eschew)
and essentially single handedly grew
the contemporary paradigm few
off fish shill educated
  ...Read More

When we sat together,
we whispered almost as one,
not as conspirators,
but as mentor and acolyte,
and you spoke of things that I did not comprehend
yet with words that I knew were true.
You warned me of a chimera,
I've fallen prey to several since.
When...Read More

Ah, the life surreal.  Nothing like wearing the weirdness like a greatcoat as I sip bad hotel coffee and muse over where the last few years have taken me while watching ice flow around old tires stuck in the bottom...Read More

    St. James Discernment Question Answers
Thank you answering these questions and helping the Discernment Committee
with it's work.

From: James Thomas Horn 
#1 Remember a moment that was a high point, when you felt our church was doing God's work
and fulfilling its mission......Read More

What energy conscious acolyte sucks a pickled grapefruit at midnight?
 "Certainly not me" said the sparrow. "Nor me" said the goshawk.
 Key turning stomach pumping missiles arrowhead forming stalactites. Interesting to note how a single bead of sweat talks to...Read More

a 1 2 3 4 is not a 1 2 1 2 nor a 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8....ok then hum....x
A house trained duck could run amok in even the most tightest fitting apron but alchemy weaving...Read More

Two wooden gangways
Jutting out onto the waters
Identical in every way, and yet…

Boats have long since ceased to come
What once arrived every day
No more the fisher’s poles and traps
Come to reap the bountiful bay

Yet there they are, rising still
Above the water,...Read More

The lightning, it was over bright

Arthritic trees, stripped bare of leaves,

seemed skeletal, inflicting fright

The lightning, it was over bright

as if the devil's acolyte 

The world shall beg for mercy, please!

The lightning, it was over bright


_______________________________________________________________
6/17/16
For Contest: First Line Prompt -...Read More

Some are sparks

Some are the sparks from a Parliament bonfire,
That fly ever upwards to spin and whirl 
amongst the stars and then are extinguished,
falling as a fleck of ash to lie amongst many 
in a grey layer, undistinguished one from...Read More

Breathing space of time and place. Wishing waiting wanting wantonly. And a fried ham. Jellied eels do not erode in a milky ju. And segment of an oiled asparagus is not very funny for a spoon who arrives in a...Read More

This is not Miami, the real site
of the sea grape.  This is a wannabe--
a biker town, a speedway town.  Not 
the fabled city of Dream Whip clouds
expressed into a flawless sky.   Not
the cool Technicolor dawn when...Read More

My place

There also is my place, where I explore my understanding
Of words that are said and thoughts revealed, interpretations made;
Intimacy shared and dissected, speculations proffered and discarded,
And wisdom is given and received, the acolyte at the master’s feet.

It is my...Read More

Apostle Who Was A Fossil

Some seem to be calling me an apostle 
Who they say looks like an old fossil
With hair which is so gray as can be
And bruised body bent just like a tree

He also does look like an...Read More

What we like best about books by Edith
Are all well worth it and will readeth
And would always walk many a mile
To buy one written Southern Style.

One might be a marvelous mystery
While other was about local history
Was character who had been...Read More

Humans Live For Adventure & Mystery
That's Why GOD Keeps Some Things Under Lock & Key
(Eccl. 3: 10, 11)
So, We'd Search & Seek & Survey & See
& Either Answer, 'At Last!' ... or Say, 'Enlighten Me' ...

 and GOD Will Have...Read More

(Gen.  20: 3, 6  /  1 Kings 3: 5  /   Rev. 21: 1-6)


It Is A Beautiful Thing
To Be In GOD's Dream
For His Will & Dreams Come True
& GOD's Dreams Rule Our Reality Views
GOD's Dreams...Read More

Many times when I would here a song, I would get an almost joyful longing, but I could never pinpoint the moment in my past that I wished for so deeply.

I would feel a certain peaceful joy, hovering just beyond...Read More

REFLECTIONS    ON    SELENE


When very young I was a devout acolyte of the Goddess Selene  
As she began her monthly journey when night fell askance,
When earth became lit from her head’s beatific radiance
And golden...Read More

Driving in Atlanta past pear trees, struck
with spring lightning, I rolled down my window 
as if breathing deeply might anchor their passing, 
perfect beauty. Paula, with whom we share
in her meditation class, (she, of the nature religion 
embraced in adulthood,...Read More

Doth it not thrill thee, Poet,
Dead and dust though thy art,
To feel how I press thy singing
Close to my heart?

As though they were dried palm leaves
In Indian catalogue, your works
I would press so close
To my chest like man's third-leg
Snuggling to...Read More