Our Father Who art in heaven Hallowed be Thy name Thy Kingdom come Thy will be done on Earth as it is in heaven Give us this day our daily Bread And forgive us our trespasses As we forgive those who trespass against us And lead us not into temptation But deliver us from evil
Amen
Jesus is Lord! Come Lord Jesus!
Come Lord Jesus! Christ is Lord!
The World was designed for no-one Then I found grace by a waterfall It happened all along More details than days in anger Hopeless as before, which was little And betting on emergency not A thrush threw a key And I inked a forever thanks, Fed to our wisdom And in this last, forever Cowardice without poem Or proper, with proof Here is the edifice The fighting example A place for sinners to re-appear, and shine as men Thirteen things proper And a Lusitanian pass Stairways for Winter And stars to be outstanding Then Heaven in between- That’s what the shape was for- An edict of the galaxy and of Rome Prices for our favour And mutiny for all To become a better pavement For our siblings to roll onto Exciting others With their way No matter what Story told And I am sure.
…
Ice on esteem To the barren Earth We were set up by the Sun And upon the Narthex column This loud sound to the Brigadier A flurry of captives Opening to their Cross In redempted colisée And open play- To sparks at dawn And Hillary speaks At their return To this Holy Hour Returned And passion proper.
Pretti
Soundings apprehensive Victory to the bone A place for end and seek The multitudes, and anger more Risen in predicate for death Asunder, and gone- to the ends of the Earth for freedom Fortune in escape The lucky men go reading And have this night to thank- for the cold, cold eligible For ranks to quash And citizens of day in trove Understanding what were, and what supposed- of a splinter of the weary Six times the death Making way for the enemy Trump astounds the autocratic Pilfering mercy from the good Stealing ahead of time Just to get by While the page turns Lantern’s regret- a specious home and making way Each pretence of someone’s diary In accordance with the election And the royal retoryate Finds no chance to blame A mole for the CIA- Waking loss for the Superwhites Opposing local surety Poring lands of wicked might And mercy on this man returned to him In a cannon of the underproposed- Seeking cue at ransom And defying the darkest death- Gavel and repent A stick of understanding To the gracious few Standing shard of the pretensk That Man is made for beating In all systems clear So be to nothing A victim leads the eon And the President- Is sunk.
Night Salmon
Fought and few to taste this sea of wonder Ports and calls to forest-see The fry and his future are low In scenes of magic upon this man Fitting mountain roams and to the true North- A fib world and early sign- of better rosted fib for cover And only this whole year to see the Wonder Isle And smolts taking off to browse- the intermittent thanks insipid to involved- A war for gentry palace and call This reef a sign of great espouse of inter-water shine The hope of Nation’s heart to begin and lose and see again Escape against the proxy roam And Heaven making waves For sheltered slander foeing few- but making Salmon rain and safe A porous watch to be the wild And best among the draining sound To hemorrhage litany but of walrus Picking tables in fashion time To be a star Implanting few And doors to aether calling Survival People and in this mode calling other Underway- Of boots to browse the part of nine And night is in her apathy- yet seeing share and self to worth A miniature and his size to not impart love And dameing his witness of shore and plenty Across the beam of dark Emitting light to proper shore And elvers ‘tect the reason near For fish to gaze t’ward Heaven- Thousand sign to this remark The stable in three years- In apogee of Heaven bliss For forty marks a splitting And thinking rouse to all in time The shallow and its Salmon
Refresher
In this solemn study of Ukraine We wished we could get high And do nothing but frail power In this obvious ruin, And states’ regard No one stood up to now, But rather someday A trance made of oats and steel The wondrous pure Are the dirty fights and splashing blood Wolves and tough folks Appeasing the throats Of an intern who is American It was beautiful that Summer eve When men met in Singapore And supposed their arrest Was leaking brake fluid As opposed to Berlin Where breaking news left fighting- In today’s win Against putin- and his overblown calf Screeching hallowed endurances Propped with Vaseline at the waist When children burn In his oversight They are calendar people, in Ukraine Some said performers And Donald said, He had no idea And what is Ukraine told to think And let’s harm them so they’ll listen To that FSB improv Which is a whirl of greatness Stinking run to the hills Of pleasant renewal In effect three degrees For the last house arrest Of American metals And soviet wine Because war- Made it for us This pleasant day.
Heroes and Their Grain
Giving thanks for recompense And orders of ovation Sipping wild leaves and hanging still in Fortis by the fire, a beckon of apostasy And using little days of Swindon Maximizing strength and running- places near and North Shining to a sale Ripping into water Making great amends Using heat for war- when matches near Proposed to ten more leaves To carbonize our year In a place five times the week Another year for Carney- Year of the invincible fight When truth supposes a way- to save us from the darkness In any way a prayer For forgiveness and works in the world Accepting prayers in judgement time While Donald reads the fax A spirit machine And a tripartite statement What comes of news is war And the Senate even supposed Whatever Norway chooses Is a risk to the untold We offer every golden rule To sow for prizes heard In remorse and about this fear That rain may fall on Winter Sending mosquito gifts For the first in quarter time A witness calls- Seeking better insurance Who treasures the ugly prize For picking up on pastures And then it snows- Affording to said Witness The cards under the table Are a long walk to Don The fallacy of gamesman days Besting those who dare To speak for what is fortune And hanging left to dry- the venerable year A palatial place of hell But in that garden we do grow With ecstasy and a fever And when our greens are ready We will send some in the mail About face: I am a drifter Wallowing in Canada Post My favourite type of office And liking your remain If it is fallen And darkest night The weary hear a beep For Jezebel the accountant Standing up for you, the money prophet host For which there is return Upon this hallowed ground And shunning court with hades While men pick up the news- Rome is here and ready While peace is months to be- No single war- can escape the Senate’s will Marks and calls for escape From Wildwood and its pen- the dealers of Upham calling To smear the great assumption That Canada isn’t ready Simple years and native wild- species to the garden Accepted by Man’s plate And feeding your return:
Gracious Canada, Lean into beginning As much as peace to happen The days ahead will call Go, Row alone And sacrifice the news For dirty years of Able And forceps to the new Raking dawn, Sin as war In these things we watch And the hero is the same, Pretending men of war- Will call us to the room Sight unsigned Proxy to this witness Failhead for the dowry And what is done by rote- the insubstantial A year’s quest by the page So this worry will abide And untoward thy name By pressure rank Sealing days of ore And often then We keep the Water clean Heaven’s rouse And home.
Blue Comet
And rains of the overcoat Sleighing safely- in Nuuk a place of burning refuge Days upon water on ice Feelings for venture Sequenced to night And the stars on offer Light our track Eyes locking- to an overbound comet The pattern and path Dreaming parallel Inspiredly- homing our range Feelings of mercy On the young, frail ground A pair of tiny whiskers Noted for style and senses at night Batches in order for lessons of peer Handheld with bells and mobiles And a crane and a comet
Could this be the one? Our new home? Murderous into They were here and left nothing But other people
Tidings and things The little bee That collected our signatures For the airlock Fortunes could be
The Americans are gone
Things with wings And clouds of twinflower and rain With no septic fear There is snow And we hurried still As before When we were new But not yet Danes And proud of the distance And we filled our stomachs With the fruits of our neighbour Selling beans and ochre and kale In return for no thing
The sustenance America brought Was nothing like the urge To send them packing
And the Danes won- as before Hiding hope just in case And we named them a fjord Our best Man and his day For the beautiful news We are new And renewed A new sense of home.
Trudeau the Son (Paint the Weary Stars)
In stars and weary dew A custom of men in Christ Changing at a glance To Heaven’s temporality A presence of greatness The truth and light in the world To know goals and simplify Ages between and many In Portsmouth a tree of Heaven And in the lights that men abolished To be well back at rise With prayers from will and yonder The will of many And luck to the resolute A captive of weary painting With best response of Christian men Resolute and respected The captain and the Chair In fixed, firm response With places ark for weary time A piece of better mornings And nine months on the line Brighter and bigger than the best That is you, Justin, and your fortitude is keen among men In Heaven, your fortune becomes here in early release It’s 9 captives who are calling you home In Earth’s capitals and into the weariness of Peter Your will is a cause among men Cometh all and see, your due course and pains to be shared- friends to you in sequence filling efforts Every day you will be great of this nation Be onward and strong, the months that are still In knowing it is Heaven that knows you Of Saint Peter’s mission to rescue you in Christ Mission of Heaven, be captive to the Earth that is yours.
Efran
On thoughts of war through gratitude and home A sweet command and cherished heart Through pain of this and victory near Man of witness and peace Through understanding and all things new The bells of Heaven ring and rise Be well and think of life around- this world of sighing love In instrumental views of home And daylight pierces now Peace, peace be yours abound In Heaven’s certain light For essence of and grace between Be brave and blessed; survive To you surrender all your peers Remember rain from Heaven To much espere and thinking day The lights and doors will open As comets come to light your years And efficacious row Bits of star and solemn cross Every tree is calling you home See mercy now and friends are yours The day and week of light Through you to witness our days ahead And Heaven will allow A simple cast and grades anew The loudest horn of Islam And courts between the one of Christ To you be gates of Heaven And gold and Earth and warmth- A Sarajevo prayer for you And iron home to fits of maiden The years and plus are many Solemn due at lands of war Within a temple there A prayer of wonder- seeing you home And Christ is not alone The dare of victory in exit rough Every chair is seated- for Kingdom’s near Appointed Efran of cheer Stand up and live your chance of favour And sixty years of light- Moon and Sun and days afar The dark has gone away In towns of must and breaking lost The light of noon is yours Through daily be to yours begin A place for peace, implores
—For Efran Sultani