"Life's Paradoxical,
Unending Labyrinth"
A.D. 10 / 20 / 01 In The USA
A Sonnet Written By The Poet, Jeff Thompson
Is really new to find archaic tale
Unkept, unearthed for love's equation search -
A little like lies which attack as hail,
In currents cramped, cry some so frail in lurch
For sins the folk who wander past the mail-
Box down the walk beside a local Church
In quest for what? Are they who - some who sail
Away to The Devil lair, tossed by wind
As sea? Do they free queers alone? A trail
I follow towards the depths of forest - grinned
Like witches who want spells to work, prevail
Upon the soul of those who trust have sinned,
Too, parting seas is The Lord, mighty; wail
Lost souls to Him for they have sinned and sinned!
"This Is Really Not That 'Weird'."
A.D. 10 / 22 / 01 In The USA
A Poem "On Early Creation"
By The Poet, Jeff Thompson
It keeps awake, me - that, nocturnal flight,
That turns to shed some brilliant tapestry
To wear inside me, like a gallant night
Which shines so stars rad'iance upon the free -
Ego eats frail id - it's violence, ere right
To mortal man, woman, and child to flee
May haunt us all far past the fall of light
In paradise recalled by some, as see
Ancient evolution's deceit so bright -
It which is blindness raged, religious tree
In the garden's nectars sweet source; of fright
The ways of disobedience - in bree
A woman's head . . . to start, backdraws - a plight -
Forbidden fruit - man first, as not a she! "Past The Conjurers Of The Baptist
Black Mass."
A.D. 10 / 17 / 01 Written In The USA
A Sonnet By The Poet, Jeff Thompson
"Oppressed to God". For this, the poor by rich
In secret come - aghast! The dead-beat roads
So long bewitched, as for the night,cruel twitch
Is felt that comes an inch beyond the toads
Evolving quickly, ere can rise to switch
Destined sidewalks by the old Church in goads
Of preaching they can't delve to stand nations
For long in the way that they choose fate - their's
Destined by God to the sidewalks', fashions
In hope they might achieve a bit of care's
Reminders that do hope in love's mansions
Of truth, decaying faster than bewares
Seducing cornerstone of peace legions
In vast armies of victories found, wears. "Maria / Mary On The Streets For
Amittee!"
A.D. 10 / 18 / 01 In The USA
A Sonnet By The Poet, Jeff Thompson
The Blessed Virgin walks around the town
To find music as she can read, to play
Upon recorder soft, new, past renown
Of which she once was then ago; replay
The vice that sounds a sin! Behold: a noun
Of vast display - inside was Christ to pray,
As die for sins of men - be much - forgive,
As well! Her name divine - Mary - Virgin
To take a walk so that the lost may live
Again in Heaven's home - Mary! Born in
The sin of men that stains humans who give
But share of sin - o, me! Maria: win;
Your child be born in hide away - the days
Be still, or storm,or current spent on strife
Of men beneath the moon of night - the sways
Of breeze are mood of trees - Jesus: Son - Life! "A Poem Is A Structured Thought - And
I
Search For Ideas . . . I Confess!" A.D. 10 / 19 / 01
Written In The United States Of America
A Sonnet By The Poet, Jeff Thompson
I want to tell a story so - is but
It good enough to share? The cost is free,
But doubts allowed, a mercy - not a cut
That tears the frame - of common man; a me
Who wanders past sacred place, blessed, and shut
Not when the truth is found - a being we
See? Don't; (it's just a sonnet pushed to rhyme) -
A sweetest thing, as meadows rich, pristine,
As virgins blessed to Yahweh pure, sublime
Are gone 'yond chore to doorways shine a clean
Reminder for a man anew in time,
Today who makes away call his wean
A hallowed, blessed gift - queer, the weirdoes chime
A pulse to Devil's Waltz they learned - so keen!
"Am I A True Virgin?"
A.D. 10 / 19 / 01 In The USA
A Sonnet For Our Blessed Mother, Mary,
As Written By The Poet, Jeff
A Virgin counts her cost at night - a wage -
One she's unpaid to learn the price! She burns,
Silence is from the frogs enchantment gauge -
Like Geiger counter lifts, her heart so yearns
For spirit free - and past the days of rage
Is listen towards an inward call, blessed, turns
The soul so free - it feels so good, as what
We seek - humanly, all. Desire to, then
Be quite He who doves are like - search so but
The Earth to find a mansion? Spreads to when -
As water - time - a luxury / a hut -
Enough! Of mine: sick scars - in threads of ten
Virgins in build abode - tapestry find
Of the ancient virgins so with one, kind!
"Do I Just Write My Sonnet For Sonnet's
Sake?"
Written A.D. 10 / 19 / 01 In the USA
By The Poet, Jeff Thompson:
"An Exercise In Exorcism Of Evil, Per Se."
Because I say I prove nothing so just
As His cause, witched inside me, parts, away
To shambles, threads of dreads . . . so lushed, I lust
For gardens, more, for some to come and pray -
I've seen A Virgin's blessed; my mind, I trust
To God alone who cares me for - delay
Not here! Corrodes the heart in sin's decay -
I've sought for some abode of peace - decreased
By pleasure? Caught like thieves in joy's array
Of stars - are they mine? Slain I've none; deceased
In graves are good,and wicked, too - I say
A very little past rebuttal creased
My head to constant dreads - evil: away!
The haunts that taunt my mind aren't Christ - released! "Some Just Bop To The Devil's Own
Beat."
A.D. 10 / 19 / 01 Written In The USA
A Sonnet / Psalm ( For Christ, Jesus Of Holy Mary),
By The Poet, Jeff Thompson
It's fair as natural, queer to some who pulse
Of theirs to the Devil's own beat of lies
As his murders committed, past slow waltz
Of longsuff'ring's patient gift's; grieve not ties
The wicked come to sow in truth results
I am tangled with sores beyond the writhes
Which bleeds but from my own pure blood - reptiles
Are they! Evil is sown by secret cries
Of their hypocrisies as myths - their smiles
Hid them in their own night of despise -
I do not hear a pleading their own trials -
May they be consumed - crushed by the demise
They cleaved to crush me with! May their own vaults
Be full of gold - in squanderlies, their pulse!
"God Is Dead."
A.D. 10 / 19 / 01 In The USA
A Sonnet Written By The Poet, Jeff Thompson
My eyes did seen something unseen - I'd but
To write a poem 'bout all this I've said,
Before, at the way next to Heaven's what
Which strikes a few so deep to been of dread
With walls to count woes theirs upon of cut
The care of which is not - for god's a dead
One, pierced the wicked best to most, the ####,
She pried inside, of within . . . sin I fled,
It for to find me down crushed with the shut
Door slammed, my own words crammed for joy as led
To treason's time - evil the Jews who strut
The streets - my, God has died, tenderly bled,
And rose again - as did I say; Virgin's
Own womb begat the Christ - in Him, die sins!
"An Unnamed Sonnet For The Unknown
God."
Written In The United States Of America
By The Poet, Jeff Thompson (10 / 19 / 01 A.D.)
It's Heaven's right to write in this me through -
Of what I've seen and that is heard, believed -
Proclaimed by the angels! All knowing God, view
Me in a way escaping judgment grieved
As sinned the world, so comes one Christ - all new
He made things; blessed, the King, Jesus! One cleaved
By many as the truth alone, and too,
Tenderred His flesh incarnate, light He weaved,
Virgin's begotten Son - God's love so true,
Ripe fruit of faith, disgraced by many, heaved
To dishonored fashion to die for sins we do
And don't, He now is risen - and deceived
We are? So much to tell of Heaven's dew,
So sweet in my eyes souled in me - bereaved
I am from which was once emerged me to? "Yeshu' Haiku"
(b. 6 - 24 - 2001)
By Jeff Thompson
(b. 3 - 3 - 1968)
Sir, I'm a strange one,
Your friend, till The OMEGA,
Again - the ALPHA . . . . "Five Tankas Of Jeffrey"
A Created A.D. Saturday, May 18, 2002
In Grafton, Ohio USA, By The Poet
Lord "Pac-Man" Jeffrey Thompson,
While Listening To Mahler's 4th
Tankas meet Jesus -
The Christ Son of God's only
Virgin Mary; love's
Living Sacrifice is not
Her womb's error as Virgin.
Tankas meet Herod -
Off, killing the first-born boy
Baby child to each
Family; rots my wounds as
Sick as the sores that rot Job.
Tankas meet David -
The psalmist: he - and he not;
Toy perfect is mine -
Guitar stated as a harp;
Perfect discovery! Mine?
Tankas meet Saint Paul -
There, Saul's name left to a fix
Of some surgery;
Doctorate wisdom counsels
Humor; who's to fall the next?
Tankas meet Jeffrey -
Last summer, I think; just woes
Meet me as sorrow -
Joy's courage running naked
As if I never learned . . . WHAT?
Rainbow Haiku No. 6
(b. 6 - 24 - 2001)
By Jeff Thompson
(b. 3 - 3 - 1968)
Visit my rainbow,
And see: have no doubt - that's it!
"Judeo-Christian."
"Poeme."
(b. 6 - 24 - 2001)
By Jeff Thompson
(b. 3 - 3 - 1968)
Christ Yeshua says, "My burden is light, and my yoke is easy."
Teach ME, O benevolent Lord, "that there is more to life
than writing."
Plain and simple, "THAT's the way the POEME goes!"
Hearken, o earth, for:
"Good-day, ev'rybody!" (HIS name is: "The LORD.")
I have been eaten by worms . . . and just: "Swarms sting me,
nigh . . .
",
O Lord . . . like an infamous song: "Tell me: 'I have been
done wrong . .
. '."
