I, myself, and me,
we comprise the royal we.
I makes most decisions,
while me or myself makes the needed revisions
to ensure we three
don’t unwittingly disagree.
Me, myself, and I,
we're a well-integrated guy.
On the whole,
we're a tripartite soul
stuck together till the day we three die.
I have sinned, friend.
But my sin is not a God
To smother my Divinity.
Innate, alive
God writhes within me,
A burning fire
A tripartite light.
How low I sank
I may not tell
But in the muddy
Fires of Hell
Is not my destination.
I drank from an evil cup
And yet
God took me to his bosom
And I Am transfigured.
Me, a Sinner.
A broken piece of pottery
That can no more
Hold water
And yet
He mendeth it
And makes it His Abode
Now what GOD
Would live in a broken teapot?
Nay, MENDED!
The God of very Gods,
The Son of Suns.
Behold He is I Am
And I Am
Is alive forevermore within me
He shall yet win his way through my Heart,
And I will be alive in HIM
Forever.
SELAH!
Beyond those hills lie the mysteries
of a small community hidden from time.
Little has changed in the past fifty years,
if one does not consider the paved road
or the telephone lines, some of the few
remaining party lines in the country --
Yes! If you stand underneath them you
can hear the noisy chattering of gossipers
exchanging notes about their neighbors,
or, arranging interesting tripartite trysts.
Sometimes the sound of a zither plucked,
or an old wringer washer chugging along
[if it’s a Monday morning]; you can hear
a faint whistling of undetermined origin.
Everyone knows everyone else and kin
who have not left for Ohio since the 50s,
while old, uninhabited houses crumbled
into dust, including one where I was born
on a snowy winter’s day in bleak December.
Written August 8, 2022
I am what I am by the grace of God*
My being bears His tripartite essence
With body, soul and spirit for His nod
To please Him midst faith in pretense absence.
I am me, yielded to Christ’s supreme plan
Carrying genes from loving Dad and Mom
Molded by family of gracious clan
Fulfilling life-building role so awesome.
I am the Lord’s adopted child who’s blest
Called as His servant for glad reaching-out
Forgiven to share peaceful freedom zest
Compassion-marked, vanquishing selfish pout.
I am grateful to my Saviour indeed
Granting divine nature for virtues’ breed.
*1Corinthians 15:10 …By the grace of God I am what I am…
September 12, 2021
Honorable Mention, "Why am I me?" Sonnet Poetry Contest
Sponsored by Shreya LN; judged on 9/22/2021.
variety of size, limbs
once helpless in the wind,
a haphazard torrent of leaves.
no pleasantries in rescind.
moss, plush with bouncy roots
tripartite surgery of bark,
sans clean cut.
ground level hallmark
apartments, at close inspection,
varmints inhabit an oak.
how do trees survive the dark
when susceptible to croak?
the yard with all its idiosyncrasies,
a social distancing playground
for a curious player of minecraft —
a five year old’s hardly earthbound.
4/17/2020
Malevolent demon,
Exploiter of pure malice,
And funny business,
Sif's whorish haircut
Enraged Thor, then soothes gods,
With tripartite gifts,
Goaded Balder's death,
Had perverse shape-shiftier Thokk
More appeasing piques,
Clings Narvi's bowels,
Whilst pains cured by Sigyn's bowl,
Vows evil frequents.
I had an alien for two weeks before I realized how unusual she was.
I wish I could be a mouse in the corner, I had said, and I was.
My alien gave me a cracker, patted me on the head, and reminded me
Once again, how important it is to keep her earth-visit quiet from the masses.
I nibbled on the cracker nervously, wondering how long I would be stuck
Wearing this smelly fur suit, dragging this ugly super long tail?
Praying that Shark, my killer cat was out hunting somewhere else.
Poof! I was back in my normal body.
What other talents do you have? I asked my alien friend.
Not in words because aliens from the two-galaxies-over talk in thoughts.
I am a tripartite, she tele-pathed to me.
What’s that?
Her body immediately transmogrified into three separate, untouching-pieces.
Before I could close my shocked wide-open mouth, she had transmuted back into one complete alien.
Can you disappear? I asked her.
That was the last I ever saw of her.
Some days, however, I feel that she is here, invisible, watching me,
On those days, I wonder if I am going to find
Myself munching on a cracker.
History told us was a new world,
Futher more was discovered by Christopher Columbus,
Dominated by working corps red Indies,
And build by sweat and blood of black slaves,
Other whisper that is land of Lincoln,
But echo sound remind me is land of no one,
There racism is common like cumulonimbus clouds,
Being black is an offense of billions killers,
Justice is the common blacks dream in land,
Oh! Partisans let them tripartite mare anger,
My sons and daughter sing different anthem,
Anthem of justice and acknowledgment in the land,
Holds me friends this is the land of everybody,
Let’s have courage and defend our dignity.
SOP OF A SONGBIRD
At the labyrinth of life
Fear of its complex nature griped our heart
Like a stranger at a tripartite junction.
Worries came afterward , humping us high and dry with impossible mission
Life became humdrum in a fixed gyration
And like a gyro, our earth revolves
Sonorously , we are made to sing : the songs of the slaves
How can a fire burn without fuel and hands functions without bones
Then you can tell, how the life can function without divine faith
Now! Let the ear that hears hear
the songs of a humming birds
A song of hope , the tune of faith
The faith that fires fear
A true reflection of hope, treasures of our rich universe
And the saviour of mankind
From the chagrined and chary of life
SOP OF A SONGBIRD
At the labyrinth of life
Fear of its complex nature griped our heart
Like a stranger at a tripartite junction.
Worries came afterward , humping us high and dry with impossible mission
Life became humdrum in a fixed gyration
And like a gyro, our earth revolves
Sonorously , we are made to sing : the songs of the slaves
How can a fire burn without fuel and hands functions without bones
Then you can tell, how the life can function without divine faith
Now! Let the ear that hears hear
the songs of a humming birds
A song of hope , the tune of faith
The faith that fires fear
A true reflection of hope, treasures of our rich universe
And the saviour of mankind
From the chagrined and chary of life
Like splashes of mud on a shirt,
To the world numerous problems cling.
And to entities other than himself,
Man attributes their sources:
God, satan, nature, circumstances, etc.
Strange though it may seem,
Most of the bad in our "Big Egg"
Are his handiwork! Who? Man!
Just like his tripartite nature,
Problems he creates in three basic ways:
Through his deliberate acts;
Through his mistakes;
Through his ignorance.
For our world to have the last laugh,
The above triplet he must beat.
This is SELNATISM!
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