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Poetry

grass is always greener in the summertime

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Photo by JOSHUA COLEMAN on Unsplash

grass is always greener in the summertime

like a burqua, women
wrapped around his
demeanor, rebels. he
gave the middle finger
saying, grass is always
greener in the summer
time. the sun spurned
this long black Friday.

rabid speculation
death for bethel’s children.
hands, mouth, feet, iron-
bounded. parents
blamed it on one horrid
baby boy. he groomed,
bewitched, excelled, beguiled,
erectly sprouting forth.

mother took for granted
forever will i am: we
miss your energy running
the streets like damned,
fool? false. for they said
you lost your mind,
possessed by beelzeboul.
a jerk, a tortured soul.

he was not fake,
never phoney,
“sham you!” they screamed:
later paying homage.
quiet remains, but
i confess יהּ
when beloved left
they penned his fairy tale

fits of covert passion
tempered as women, wait
outside the synagogue –
he debated with the
rabbi so every thing changed.
יהּ voice betwixt his lips,
for ever sealed & raised
above the people.

wandered off sheep miss,
guided from the path when
fell the night suddenly
en-lightened by sudden
incantations evoked from
a man with lighted face –
jude, twinned, grew in skills
oratory spells mastered.

mother took for granted
forever will i am:
we miss your energy
running the streets like damned,
fool? false. for they said
you lost your mind
possessed by Beelzeboul.
a jerk, a tortured soul.

he was not fake,
& never phoney,
“sham you!” they screamed:
later paying homage.
quiet remains, but
i confess יהּ
when beloved left
they penned his fairy tale.

By Luke the Evangelist - Unknown source, Public Domain

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