FATHER, I'M COMING HOME

[Colin Combover in a ComaParticipant 5066]

You’re presence I knew from afar
Cushioning the blows
A guiding star

Judged only in kindness
Never burdened
When I was led in blindness

Let me grow in my mistakes
Were patient
However long it takes

Was there when lust was labelled as love
Snatched me back
When the fable turned to dust

Opened the windows that were shut
Cleared the mist
And cleansed the wounds that were cut

When all fell away and left behind
Ghosts in the cog
I could tell we had turned the tide

Came to you as all I am
Decayed and haughty
Whilst you embraced despite all the sham

In my most decadent moments of clarity
Yet still you were there
As you offered your charity

I continue to waver
Yet still you care
As you offer your favour

When all is done and past
Memories fade
But your love forever lasts

You were there from the start
Will you be till the end
When I depart?

Father
I’m coming home

Set a place for me
A place set in stone

But suffer then
Until I atone

Father
I’ll be home

[Anonymous 3]

I usually dont care for your style. But this poem was great.
Congratulations.

[BubParticipant 1403]

Happy upcoming Fathers Day
….

Just rolling down the road

[Colin Combover in a ComaParticipant 5066]

Anonymous wrote:

I usually dont care for your style. But this poem was great.Congratulations.

Cheers.

[Colin Combover in a ComaParticipant 5066]

Bub wrote:

Happy upcoming Fathers Day….

Wrong Father.

[Branched offParticipant 10926]

Nice one Colin.

I too got the wrong father. Looks like you are doing yaweh again tonight. Liked it better the other way but either way it is good and you will almost certainly get plenty of praise from the god squad if you read that out in church. Well done mate.

A woman is like fire -fun to play with, can warm you through and cook your food, needs constant feeding, can burn you and consume all you own

[Anonymous 3]

Branched off wrote:

you will almost certainly get plenty of praise from the god squad if you read that out in church.

I am not so sure.

Most religious types are scared to death of dying, and essentially ask to be spared. This poem speaks of acceptance, of embracing death. It speaks of the disappointment in life, and the unnecessary suffering.

It is totally red pill.

Blue pills would be horrified, and at best would offer the author the number of a suicide prevention line.

[Colin Combover in a ComaParticipant 5066]

Branched off wrote:

Nice one Colin.
I too got the wrong father. Looks like you are doing yaweh again tonight. Liked it better the other way but either way it is good and you will almost certainly get plenty of praise from the god squad if you read that out in church. Well done mate.[/quote

Afraid so Mr Branch. When I feel hormonal, the poems will either be about that hooker or “God”.
Cheers, hope your flying.

[Colin Combover in a ComaParticipant 5066]

Anonymous wrote:

Branched off wrote:

you will almost certainly get plenty of praise from the god squad if you read that out in church.

I am not so sure.
Most religious types are scared to death of dying, and essentially ask to be spared. This poem speaks of acceptance, of embracing death. It speaks of the disappointment in life, and the unnecessary suffering.
It is totally red pill.
Blue pills would be horrified, and at best would offer the author the number of a suicide prevention line.

It is about my sins, in particular the one where I fell in love with the Queen of the Harlots, and my coming to a higher entity in remorse and subjugation in order to obtain absolution.

It is more an acceptance of my knowing I have transgressed against not only myself, but a just judge……and only hoping that he/it is there for me when my outer crust transcends this capricious realm.

I beseech him however, to temper me a while whilst I am trying so hard to shed this despicable shell.

[Author]

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