Mister Alfred
Mister Alfred
Alfred, the pianist who is also my father
although he denies the paternity vehemently,
was in Hawaii and played the ukulele with
Had little success and returned to Europe.
Alfred, the pianist and also my father, could
get the sweetest tones when he played and
women swooned in other men’s arms,
was when not playing of a rather sullen nature
He spent the day walking around town with
In an alpaca jacket and a French bonnet, he looked ever
artistic, and I followed him around, once when I fell
A bollard got in the way; he did help me up and
I`m not your father!
Alfred, the pianist and also my father, got to be
ninety-two, and in the last years of his life was glad
to have a son, even if it was a fake one, as Alfred
was fond of pointing out
(Voices of Galileo & Pythagoras)
On this day—
September 9th, 2025,
an echo rose from the ninth portal of the universe.
Galileo spoke:
"Mathematics is the language
with which God has written the universe."
The proof was everywhere—
the ninth month,
the ninth day,
the year 2025
folding into the number 9.
A trinity appeared:
999.
And when I added 9 + 9 + 9 = 27—
it fell again to 9.
A cycle completed.
A circle closed.
Galileo’s voice trembled:
"This happens once in nine years.
The world has finished one chapter—
and now, it begins another."
I asked—
“What does this cycle mean for humanity?”
He answered:
"Nine is compassion.
Nine is wisdom.
Nine is completion—
and awakening.
It calls the soul to service,
to live for the greater good."
Then Pythagoras appeared,
his face burning with sorrow and light:
"The world was in meditation—
now it awakens.
The true hearts of compassion
will rise for humanity’s sake."
We raised our eyes to the stars.
They shimmered as if lifting glasses with us.
And we whispered:
“September 9th, 2025—
the day of 999.
A cycle ends.
A cycle begins.
Cheers.
I see You lightly
in the dark of me
Divine Contrast
I see You purely
in my unfiltered zones
You, the candle of my being
a lantern in my wanderer's woods
A beacon on Redemption Shore
guiding me back
from a journey's edge
Lord, I am tired
I seek the dock of my
blessed return
Lord, I am deeply saturated
longing
Deeply sorry for falling
having learned
all directions are back to You
Lord, I am ready
Lord, show mercy
I am truly sorry
Opened its flag from orphan blood attacking Islam
Says "No Muhammad, No Mecca"
Tell me can there be Islam without Muhammad and Mecca
If this prophet wouldn't be whole universe would fall
You settled an evil triangle order
And put above innocent's blood
You think will save you this sinful wealth
There is not much time there it is apocalypse
For you prepared Semum, Siccin and Sakar
Seven floors that your armies inside
my dad,
my father.
climb up mountains,
he'd go farther.
hiking hills,
working hard.
paying bills
paying rent.
without that.
we'd be bent.
fixing things
that needed fixing.
breaking things
that need breaking.
my dad,
my father.
you run far,
he'd run farther.
First, we mine, then we craft, LETS MINECRAFT!!
Djibouti, Djibouti
shake that booty.
grab that looty
Somalian pirate.
Djibouti, Djibouti.
another Somalian
washed up on shore
for sure their Somalian
I can tell because they said so.
Djibouti, Djibouti.
This, is a crafting table
-MartincitoPants
hehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehe.
spooky ghost.
hautning ghost
your mum
your mum
boo!
poopoopeepee yourself.
an enderpearl
I have no sect other than Islam
Companions, all of them are my pole star
Judge me judge by Quran and tradition
Apply to me Sharia: Rule of Islam nation
Hand that it cuts doesn't suffer doesn't feel pain
Head that it executes doesn't face cruelity in judgement day
It is straight it is truth it is light and it shines
It is the the most reliable path up to apocalypse, reigns
Obeying its rules generations lived in peace along centuries
With its justice raised nations with honor and glories
For christians and jews as a judge used Torah
But do they really contented with rule of Barnabas
If you are faithed subject to its clean orders
Do not leave the judgement to apocalypse courthouse
When death struck
I was rowing in a narrow fjord, and the sea was calm
Then the rocks fell into the water, disturbing the peace
I rowed on
Until a part of the mountain fell, forming a gigantic wave
I was lifted riding the wave and saw a village disappear.
The boat splintered, but I was safe.
I looked down into the village, people coming out, not knowing
They were dead. I saw them dissolve, becoming drips of water
Before they ran into the sea, who was the mother
I kept on walking and came to a valley of roses, and they knew nothing
Of the tragedy that befell the people in the fjord.
I built a house in the belief that here, the sea would never reach me.
I grew up hearing tales of who You are
So kind, so just, so full of love and grace.
You watched me closely like a guiding star,
Your whispers now still echo in this place.
I speak to You, and tears begin to fall,
For in the quiet, I can feel You near.
My Friend, my Shield, my Strength through every call,
You lift my soul and cast away my fear.
Without You, Lord, my world would drift apart,
My dreams and goals would lose their light and worth.
Yet still, You knew the secrets of my heart,
And cleansed my sins before my time on earth.
Please help me never drift, never pull away, never trade
Your presence for silence. Because in You, I find everything, I will ever need.
With one breast
you nursed him, Amazon.
The other, cut away,
to aim at males.
The hours passed
with bated breath,
listening to your moans.
As you fed,
you killed,
and for another prey
you hoisted your sails.
You carried him in a sling
and went hunting.
One day, on a boat in the river,
you laid him down
and sailed far away.
With one breast
you nursed him, one-breasted—
and he became a man,
Sovereign of One,
with corrupted ideals.
Morning rises, soft and thin
A veil of light where dreams begin.
The world awakens, slow and clear
A song of life for all to hear.
Step through the dawn, embrace its glow
The truths it brings, the paths to know.
For morning holds what night forgets
A quiet hope that no one regrets.
A city will swallow you whole
the suburbs will chew on you for a bit
our world's gone off its bloody blue axis.
We were born to thrive and not just exists
given mustard seed souls to nurture into bloom...
there are those that live to poke and twist
silk from the soul of the cherry wood loom.
Head for the evergreens for just a bit
take in a teaspoon of sapphire breaths.
sashay up a mountain- nanny by your side
thinning air sweetened by a robin's egg sky.
Blessed guardian in the shadow of the tree line...
Take a crystal dip in a cool blue orchid shaped Jewell
sleeping between the whisper of the alpine.
Return, with earthen spirits woven into the chest
to face the fiery darts of man's greasy restlessness
Hold onto the many, cherry wood blessings
hold tight for as long as you possibly can.
Walking towards the 'river'
Christ is about to deliver my 'old nature.'
I remember His context.'
When John 'baptized' Him
I walk into the water, giving thanks to God
For this 'quarter' in my life
My head gets bowed in the water
I thank God that my 'old man' receives
A slaughter, I'm filled with laughter
Because I have a 'new' nature
The old man is left behind
Now I can live because I
Walk behind Christ, who is my Head!
I experience 'death.'
As I hold my breath under the water!
I receive resurrection
Knowing soon I will soon face temptation
But I thank God for my baptism
That brings death so that
Christ can be my life!
Mark Frank
Copyright ©2006 Mark Frank
.
'neath thuh prairie'z
thickets
'long it's lush open
hidden
mostly
'twere that pink
halter yo
stuck it were
in duh visible
thump
'cross mine dome
her daddy'z
warn
")
Specific Types of Baptism Poems
Definition | What is Baptism in Poetry?
Poems Related to Baptism
debut, immersion, ritual, ablution, purification, purge, introduction, purgation, dedication, sprinkling, rite of passage, lustration, christening, sanctification, launching, baptismal, dunking,