"My Funky Baby!"
I want everybody to meet my Funky Baby!!!
She's so funky now,
My Funky Baby--
She's so funky now--
She's making gravy!
She's so funky now;
I want her rabies!
She's so funky how!?!
Like peaches tasty.
She's gone funky wow!
Saves from Hades.
She shifts funky now!
Our luv is Mercedes.
And yes, crappy, distorted crayon art--it spat furiously from a questionable quill without the illumination of desk or lamp, like Benji Franklin's Autobiography trumping the Dr. Oz diet--only targeted towards "woman-kind"; specifically, a Southern Man says of the esoteric physician: "Boy! He comes from the Land of Oz."
PSEUDO-BLACK CANARY (possibly, a Funky Baby).
"Graveyard Womb 4; Moreover--Psylocke & Werecoyotes"
Alas, Serpens, the Constellation divided into the synergy of two--
One, possibly patriotic--other: invasion of our soothing Earth/Superman Blue;
Thus, Bernhard respectfully invoked the Wise Iroquois
Schooled NOT in that Myth is mere Myth; plus, allowing a serpent to rightfully annoy;
As a result, illuminated in the fashion of Crimson Savior,
Rolling Lando's dice, and betting on Princess Leia's true flavor--
He gives hearts--red, white, and blue,
Knowing: LIBERTY is sincerely keen for the downtrodden too!
And, while wolves are robust and foxes crafty--
It is the neutral coyote that wily precipitates sublimity--constructing beauty through crazy.
Oops--crappy crayon art, it cruelly forged and distorted by mercurial sip or two of Canadian lager--no crap . . .
"Graveyard Womb 3"
METAPHORICAL WELDER OF HEARTS
Bernhard blossomed beautiful--even more,
Feeling guilt and shame giving the gift of living after the score;
Next, knowing better authors always exist, hearing an angel's harp--
It playing Davidian love from the start.
BERNHARD TALKS TO THE KING OF HEARTS
King Of Hearts:
Yes--it shrinks the brain--if selfishly used.
Bernhard:
Then too, the reptilian brain stem constricts, binding itself. If only the greedy youth wouldn't bully, kill, and smear with misinformation--and out of envy, mostly. So, why the sword inserted into your royal head on your playing card?
King Of Hearts:
First love--she assisted me in a desire for self-mutilation; on the contrary, a Vegetation God can never truly die, resurrecting till Sun's golden kiss.
Bernhard:
Yeah, like a gorgeously smart girl says before getting ready for prom: "Take me for a ride in the Millennium Falcon."
"Graveyard Womb 2"
SUBLIMITY OF POVERTY
Bernhard heard snake-oiled politicians speak to the Middle Class,
Never once mentioning the poor, and how they work off their unrecognized ass,
Knowing: The spiritually poor can never be charmed,
For theirs is a tragic yet steeled love song,
Not selfishly holding onto the false deity known as the dollar,
Yet embracing faith and incorporeal love that shapes their ghosts taller;
Indeed, hardly anything by man is forged for the rejected,
So Bernhard shape-shifted his essence into a hero that Christ reflected,
Bringing King David's herb to a withered, old lady residing in an elegant shanty,
Giving her the squeezed sponge Christ drank of, which came in handy,
For the Messiah took all of the Earth's pain,
Psalming perhaps, at first, that of complain;
Next, relieved by Pilate's possible mercy--
Proclaimed: "It is done!" And was no longer capitalistically thirsty.
"Graveyard Womb"
Bernhard legally immigrated from Northern Europe (had many an ulcer sore)--
Into the bravery of the American South's "pretty girl" core;
Alas, only the merciful West soothes with God & Nature's lore;
Thus, local Black Market offers gateway with wicked arsenal of non-organic galore.
Still, Bernhard gallantly braved with healing steel,
Imbibing lab-crafted medicine giving toxic side-effects waaaay too real;
As a result, he resisted not evil, knowing: Christ resided under: "I AM" steeple.
So, Bernhard took the mask of the adversary in symbol, like might: SCARLET PIMPERNEL,
Soul-storming a gracious gift for all the wilted elderly--those absent of a diary's quill;
Plus, that of the youth gone sonically ill.
"The Secret Concerning Hot Girls!"
Flaxen barley, shimmering into symmetrical spun, champagne mane
Births: Freya's handmaiden; alas--nope, never a shame;
However, once gelled and a singular synergy fluxing,
Adversaries will spawn, your precious LOVE hunting--
Know: To dismiss beauty might be a sin;
Still, it will frustrate and craft hate's kin;
Thus, HOT girls require a man, even if in female form;
Hence, carry protection to humble envy with the mercy of KNOWN crowned thorns--
It is all a gamble, either which way,
Stay @ least semi-innocent and to a LOVING God pray,
Yet carry the steel, even in your mind,
Gleaming the blade by never leaving a man behind.
"Francis in Vatican City"
Dismissing the theological fight of fire with fire--
Pope Francis' flame is aqua-azure, soaring higher;
Plus, blessing the awkward and unwanted,
Never wanting the guilt-ridden to be venomously hunted;
Alas, as with Mahatma Gandhi, King Jr., & the Living Christ,
There is a bounty on morphing their perception--an insidious heist
Of sorts, desiring the continuation of chaos as it thinks itself proudly deserved,
And yes, but not at the price of sublimity being obscured.
