The bane of Heresiologists
The scourge of Polemicists
Even Peter didn’t like me
He wouldn’t take a bribe
I was formidable
I was a sorcerer
I was a magician
I could levitate
I could fly
I was the bad boy
Of religion and I
Never knew why
They said I was
Malevolent
I said Nobody’s
Perfect we all
have our
Imperfections
In Rome I
Was redeemed
And deified
Name’s Simon
You probably
Know the rest
Bob Boyd
Author: BobBoyd
Age 80. Cancer survivor since 3 years ago. Work out 3 times a week. Ride my exercise bike 2 hours a day. Live a solo reclusive life. Retired a year ago from working with the elderly in a nonprofit. Started writing poetry a little over a year ago; most poems I write are fictional but some are not. Spiritual with a permanent spiritual experience. Write poems on many subjects. Always researching for many of my poems and because of my unquenchable thirst for knowledge. After reading and hearing about many near death experiences and death bed visions, I believe death is the ultimate awakening and the relocation of a lifetime. You may believe differently, but you have the right to be wrong -- I'm just messing with you. :-)
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