Feel them in my tendons
Hear them in the quiet
See them in the wind
Smell their fragrance
A constant in my life
Like a steel manacle
Arrested and limited
I must pay the price
Sins from lives past
Karmic justice served
Grow I must or else
Be trapped hereafter
So I speak the truth
I am compassionate
Eschewing victimhood
Pleasing higher beings
They want to feel like their heroes
without ever having to risk,
they want to feel like their special,
without ever having to earn it.
They want to feel they’re put upon,
so they can claim they're virtuous,
without having to act moral,
feel good, but still do shady stuff.
They want all the praise and glory
without ever having to work,
they want to blame somebody so
they can fail and not feel the hurt.
If you’re told a lie long enough
You believe it.
(9/20/25)
You know the place.....
Where tears fall down a saddened face!
When all they think of, is little old me!
Blind to the grown-up pain of humanity.
Where their complaint list is long as heck.
All you ponder, as a friend, is to save their neck.
These who wail for instant attention.
Sorry souls, these, should have a daily convention.
Never learned how to be a friend!!
Just cry for attention, giving others,the bends!
Find an adult who’s there at the ready.
Do not pamper victims, you must be steady!
If you get a long list of endless complaints,
Tell them, “customer service is closed”, watch them faint!
Adult babies is in no way a misnomer!
Tell them to grow up~you just hit a homer!
Congratulations!
1-16-2022
My love for you has turned me into a carcass,
Dry, grey and lifeless,
My heart cracks each time it sees you,
Unable to beat and pound like it used to,
My neck, I cut open, so from my fear you could get intoxicated,
Each time you were done, you would lick my wound and dress it in piles of bandages,
So that I could not put my head up,
Each time I looked at you,
I was bowing down,
Just as you my lord desired,
You continued your meals of me,
Until at last, my neck broke,
You said my blood now tasted vile,
Yet it did not deter you from sucking more,
Even if only droplets remained when my neck you broke,
You put me on an altar, where you never miss a day of worship,
I'm stiff and stone,
And even now, I wonder what intoxicates you,
I wonder, since my neck can no longer do you any service,
Feed on me some more,
For I still have bones and dry flesh.
Priesthood as Victimhood
Like a child; childhood
dying for its favourite toy
so it is with priesthood
dying to attain joy
irrespective of how hard
to see own flowing blood
as long as it brings sanctity
from the Most Holy Trinity
a call of real diligence
to follow the High Priest
Jesus par excellence
in the heavenly midst
who died on the Cross
torment, agony and pain
but that was not a loss
but a divine-real gain
hence a priest is a victim
through grace of ordination
as the ecclesiastical pilgrim
who knows his divine mission.
Drencho POET Loads.
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