Bamboo is a hue 

that God says is true.

From me to you.

I am the vessel 

used to cover you.

Bamboo is a prophetic 

holographic prism

to protect your reject

in the worldly prospect.

God will always 

protect you

through me

not the she

you see to be

in this fleshly flee.

this she will

never be better

or apart of your together.

this she is not true.

this she causes 

the pause of His All for you.

this she is the ruse

that fuses your refuses

and accelerates 

your drunkenness pitfalls.

this she is the wrong

throng song 

singing as the stinging hue 

in wrong rings you clung to.

this she will never 

be for you, 

this she is NOT your virtue,

because I am the blue hue

made just for you 

because you are blue too. 

this she is worldly prospects

that presses the play in 




and dismay.

this she as worldly prospects 

was your sleepwalking 

talking in a worldly schism.

this she is a worldly schism.

this she is a fleshly prison. 

A worldly schism 

will never be His Prism,

it’s just the lust 

filled rusty combust

distrusting fleshly prison.

You(r) is the he 

that God says 

is for me,

she is not me

and never will be.

God never said go

in this he’s she show.

God said he + He + her

biblically found bound

from Above 

in His Sacred Dove

of the book of Genesis

to make His Stir

he + He + her.

I & me are the her 

in His Stir

he + He + her.

God says we

are better together 

in His Kingdom Band

interwoven as 

His Chosen

in three strands.

Cognoscenti in 

month twenty (+ one)

is a talk,

that was the choice

as the voice

to walk in this 

hiss and diss 

of your poisonous 

kiss with this she

that is not me, 

is just a pain 

with no gain 

and all in vain.

The tears in 

the years I’ve 

cried and lied

silently made me die.

God revived me

to thrive not 

just survive and see.

131 is the SOS 

to my progress.

Tangibly you 

did not see

it was me.

Or wanted it to be.

God supernaturally 

made us three.

How can that be

when you’re united 

in an expedited 

benighted quicksand. 

You should 

be evicted

from my heart 

you’re a part 

of a no unity

night community

in a building

with no godly wings

wearing rings that sting.

Stinging in the sin

you fight with no light 

to see as a win,

Sinning will never be winning.

Winning is only His Destiny.

The fourth month

of the two thousand 

fifteen response 

was my ensconce 

to grow in that no

away from your show

you were determined

to not let go of.

Love not lust

is found bound 

from Above,

but you see 


with this she 

that is not me. 

But God 

keeps saying 

your tangibility

is a facade 

of irascibility.

At first it hurt 

but God made 

your cheap lemonade

with this she

that doesn’t follow

God as His Renegade

made this confetti 

hurt have worth

this pain all had gain.

I’ve been set free

to finally see 

I’m loved, 


and His Chosen.

I’m at ease in peace

with what you do 

regardless if it’s His true.

God is what I choose to lose in.

Bamboo is your prophetic 

parabolic assignment

for your supernatural alignment; 

just like Harper 

was your sharper sign.

That your pitfalls 

are a vow to make you bow

and allow Him to 

take your stake in fake

and break you into new.

Both Bamboo and Harper 

were told boldly not coldly: 

Three years ago. 

Before this she

who is not me


dragged you in 

this wrong hue

of two strands 

emotional blues.

Legalizing a lie

will never be 

what God decides.

That blue is

not what God has

for you.

Apart of me 

wants this strand three

but it’s like 

a bad joke

that feels 

like an ongoing 

choke and stroke 

because this she 

who’s not me

makes you look

like a hooked, line,

and sinker thinker 

now-sobering drinker bloke. 

This toxic,


and robotic 

fuse you pressed 

play in the decay

of yesterday in 

a ruse you clung to

stung and wrung me

to the core, where

I was on my knees

face down to the floor.

I didn’t know 

how else to grow

or what to do in

this pending cancerous show

you didn’t want to lose

your facade or 

stop the clock in playing god.

Since God’s truths 

didn’t match that

ugly backwards hat

that made you stagnant 

by this she as a maggot,

in this quicksand. 

Allow this show 

to cancel and 

for this quicksand 

to run its course.

Grab His saddlebag

and ride His Horse,

not your worldly 

version of jet lagged 

cheap thrills 

with this she

who’s not me

or for you.

Bamboo is a hue 

that God says is true.

From me to you.

I am the vessel 

used to cover you.

Bamboo is a prophetic 

holographic prism

to protect your reject

in the worldly prospect.

God will always protect you

through me

because I’m blue

and you are too. 

God makes all things new.

I’m new, so you will be too.

If God says 

you are bamboo 

then I say that too.

If God says 

you are Harper sharper

then I say that too.

If God says 

Trust me.

& Be Still.

Then I say that 

I too grab His Gills [with you.]

The foolishness of God

will never be a facade.

I say yes to the signs,

designed to biblically 

align us as three,

regardless of time

what I see,

or what you believe.

His Stir will always be: 

he + He + her.

They will always be 

better together in 

His Kingdom Band.

That’s how it was 

for the (wo)man 

and the man

in the beginning of time.

That’s the only way

to obey in the 

gift of today

for two flesh 

to become one.

Il n’y a pas d’amour 

perdu entre nous. 

Divine amour grandit. 

Aimez vos côtes bleu.


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