On Homosexuality ((A deadly sin) (Poetic Prose))

Reading from day to day, the changing moods of the world, how Homosexual behavior is being accepted as less than a sin, and socially for tranquility by leaders, like Obama, and many clergy: not rejecting them, and passing law after law in their favor, allowing this unnatural lust to be an act favorable to heaven, which will only allow the recipient to lose the gift of divine sonship, to become a child of God by grace (where just fifty-years ago it was abhorred.)  Thus, I am forced to write this poetic prose out of necessity:

Homosexuality is a behavior—like a double-bite axe (it’s unnatural,

     and against God’s laws).

             We are not talking about desires, but rather acts—here it is deep and

       wide.

Desires are like emotions; they come and go—like winter and

       summer, or like leaves falling off a tree in fall.

Often times with little control, but acting them out is where the sin

       comes in.

                                                      In the Book of Genesis,

two angels in disguise visit Sodom—

Lot is ordered to hand over the men for homosexual intercourse—

In the darkness between the stars and city’s streets, the angelic

       beings blind the godless seekers!

Does God exist? No doubt of that, Sodom was destroyed, and it was

       not because of the lack of inhospitality (although that mattered)

And so was Gomorrah destroyed, says Saint Jude—

       because each other fitted together—

 Both, “…acted in…unnatural lust.”

“You shall not lie with a male as with a woman; it is an

       abomination….” reads the Old Testament.

Are the Old Testament sins, still sins?

In Paul’s Epistle to the Romans, he writes:  “…since they did not

see fit to acknowledge God…for this reason he gave them up to unnatural relations”

(inferring men with men, and women with women—as they preferred)

“God gave them up to a base mind…improper conduct. And since

       they know God’s decree…”

“Do not be deceived…homosexual offenders…nor drunkards will

       inherit the kingdom of God” (1 Cor. 6: 9-10)

And for those who like to quote the word ‘Homophobe,’ God is not

       afraid of homosexuals—he knows they are overcompensating

       to hide this fact, lest they condemn themselves.

#3814 (4-6-2013)

Notes:  Gen. 19:13/Jude 7/Ezek 16:50/Lev. 18:22 and 20:13.  Also see, Rom. 1:2:26-28, and 1 Cor. 6:9-10.  Also, Pope Benedict XVI, and Pope John Paul are against same-sex marriage, gays adopting children, gay services, and usage of Church facilities, some have inferred, Homosexuality is a disorder. Not only do the Christians feel it is against God’s laws, Old and New Bible Testaments, but so does the Jewish religion and Muslim faith. Perhaps the Homosexual is being called to Chastity, who’s to say. In the book of Leviticus, the consequences of homosexuality were death. Also, the act of inhospitality was a sin but clearly what angered God was the homosexual behavior of the Sodomites.

“Wake up!”

“Wake up!”  Why do you keep on sleeping?

Night is over, are you ill?

Do you not know, other people have bought and sold

       some have even found treasures…?

You have not even made your bed, instead you spend your

       life, sleeping, drinking playing—

Living at home with your parents, bellyaching—now past

       thirty, closer to forty…

And you have not grown because you have not moved.

“Wake up!” Soon you will be retirement age, and have not

       even a bed: and your parents will be dead.

Do you not know God will make you accountable for every

       hour you’ve lived?

#3790 (3-28-2013) /Poems one through six were inspired in part by revving, reviewing and reversing,   insights by Kabir, whom was a Spiritual Poet, with a  Moslem and Hindu background in traditions, lived in the 15^th Century, and lived to be 118-years old, so it is said.

For Paul, Fernando and Jessica

The Eyes of North Korea

((Short Poetic Prose anecdotes) (get drunk, March 4, 2013))

So you would like to know why they hate each other today. No doubt it will be easier for them to understand this cause and effect than others, than for me to explain—for example, short days for us, seemingly long days for them. Why the round-cheeked soldier boys of DPRK, are pulled along like leashed dogs? Why all the outstretched arms for all the decorated Generals in North Korea, like colorful obelisks. Why straight in front of them, is a road to their neighbors house, they never use, peacefully? Why the graying bearded men, have done so little to nothing about North Korea’s prosperity with the rest of the world? Carried along like little creatures too feeble to walk. Everyone performing duties like little children; and those not in uniform all in rages; while Pak Pong-ju the new premier’s face is so serious. Why are the US B-2 stealth bombers doing flyovers on the North Korean peninsula? Why is there no peace treaty signed since 1953? Why has nobody done anything for five-years concerning Pyongyang? Why have we sent the USS John McCain, destroyer to that ‘dangerous’ and ‘reckless’ spot? Is China waiting for an explosion, testing the waters between us and them: them and South Korea? Watching three countries play chicken? Don’t they all know, what is not done today, will have to be done tomorrow? And what will tomorrow bring—better or worse? Do not think these people do not have their eyes wide open, they want to make it unbearable, they want to become the manager of the café—figuratively speaking, and get the free lunch—among other things.  You see friend, how difficult it is to understand Kim Jong Un, who seemingly is choosing to be provocative. Be wrong just once, being stupid just once, and the eyes of this little country—that feels no shame, will blackmail the entire earth. Woops, it has already; if they can not blackmail, then what—another Hiroshima?

(Solution to end a war that hasn’t started): My suggestion, and it is only a suggestion, is that the people of North Korea simple: get drunk. That’s all that should matter, that is really your need, essential need; so as not to feel or think when the time comes—that horrible burden that you will be sent out to do. You must get drunk without ceasing, and then you will not feel the pain. The problem is as I understand it to be, ‘With what?’  With whatever you can find, make, and sit on the palace steps, the green grass, or the winter ice, and show Kim Jong Un, drunkenness has increase, give him groans, not salutes. Don’t look up at the wind and waves in the star of the flag, look at the clock, that is what speaks—the calm just before the storm, just before war, it is one minute to twelve—showdown time. Do this for the world; get drunk, so that you may not be the martyred slaves of time, of Kim Jon Un’s ego. Get drunk and never cease or rest, until Kim Jong Un, is taken down from his throne.  I know, it’s not quite the Christian way of doing things, but it’s is better than nothing—and pray, pray, pray…!

#4005 (4-4-2013)

Cloud-muffled Moon

((A Short Poetic Prose Tale) (a true account while in Vietnam, 1971))

                                                                                                                    

The heavily armed Vietnamese village was somewhat dug in, not far

       from our base camp and the South China Sea—

It was a cloud-muffled moon evening that slightly lit the night sky;

I had snuck in—a hundred rifles, a few machineguns waiting,

       should I show my Caucasian Irish face—, I’d leave in the Morning: I had just snuck in for the fun of it, to see if I could, and

       have a night of it, to perk up my adrenaline.

Not a wise decision—yet silently I jumped the high barbwire fence

It all mattered on timing.

The Vietcong ruled the village by night, the South Vietnamese Army

       by day…it was always that way.

This evening the Vietcong was everywhere—

However, this was not the real danger, so I felt, it was the guard

        towers in the morning I’d have to overcome—

Manned by our friendly Vietnamese, not the enemy, but they could

       and most likely would, mistake me as an enemy, an infiltration

Party, armed to kill—or shoot me just for a thrill—it was not

       uncommon; actually they’d simple be lost to think otherwise.

The ground was soft in the morning dew, even pressing up against

       the high barbwire fence—at the cue of the moon disappearing: The grey morning lifting; hence, I reached the edge of the top:

“Don’t move,” my mind whispered, and froze half bent over the

       prickly fence—

I must have blended into the moment, the guard’s eye, in the tower

       nearby, not irritated with my slow sequences, did not catch my

Movements—thus, I rolled over the prickly top of the fence, and

       once I landed on the soft ground, I left no shadow as daylight

Broke…

I must have been in those far-off days, a cat with nine lives, or else

       God was saving me to write the poetic tale…!

#4004 (April 2 & 3, 2013)  

In the Face of Despair

Sister Marleny, my dear friend—

Her congregation is frightened 

By the ‘Heads’ of ‘Divine Providence,’

That comes from North America!

Those snakes move slowly,

I tried to tell her a year ago.

Also, I inferred:

You have to watch the walls 

They have eyes and ears!…

She’s now locked the convent doors,

Notified the police,

These are desperate cries!

They want to throw out the thirty-two

Little nuns into the Lima Streets

—Why?

Because the original nuns all want to

Live alike, under the eyes of Christ

With His blessings—

Unlike the North Americans

Whom now

Are like convicts shaken loose.

#3996 (4-1-2013)