Free verse № 133052
I LOVE A PROSTITUTE
Yes, I love a prostitute,
And whom are you brother
To dictate whom shall I love
And whom not?
Yes, I love a prostitute,
And she disarmed me
The moment I saw her first.
My fingers have touched the sacred
While feeling her cascading red hair.
Yes, I love a prostitute,
And in her eyes I can see
The twinkle of my unborn child.
She carries within her bosom
My unseen legacy.
Give me not that menacing look, O'brother,
For I know I'e loved an innocent soul
A soul as pure as the sublime waters
Across which only the purest could sail.
Yes, I love a prostitute
And today, I shall hesitate not
To return that wronged soul
Her rightful innocence and respect.
Yes, I love a prostitute,
But whom was it brother
Who made a princess lose her existence,
In the dreary world of prostitution.
Come here and gaze with me
At the ever flowing holy waters
And you shall find your answer.
But brother, move no closer,
It' no longer for you to touch.
17 comments
Your use of whom is pretentious and wrong. See usage note: http://dictionary.reference.com/search?q
Some letters are missing after your apostrophes.
2) You can be pretty sure she doesn't love you. Or even feel you, technically.
Supposing you DO love the unredeemed Mary Magdalene - well, I just don't think you can love someone whom you want to redeem. I think that means you love some idea of what she or he will become, and not the person as she or he is. You're welcome to disagree. That's also one of my biggest problems with Christianity - probably coming from the Christian belief in a soul that somehow exists above and uncomplicit in sin. Like THE REAL MAGDALENE is a nice, beautiful person just kind of floating around while the Unreal, Earthly Magdalene does all this whoring. I just don't buy it. Like I said, feel free to disagree.
The obvious answer to all this is, Jesus loved Mary when she was a prostitute and nothing He did was wrong. My answer to that is, That's exactly right.
Questionable and controversial!
WEIGHTEDAVERAGE = 5+((avg-5)/(1+e^(3-votes/3)))
Poets are the worst kind, we like to parade our words hoping others buy what we say.
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