Crappy Poetry

I don't know what to write, and yet something compels me to write on this, for all of my fans - I think it's in the single digits now...anyway. It's a poem. It's pretty crappy, and self-indulgent. If you want a good web blog, try Warren Ellis's, at diepunyhumans.com. It's got some pretty good, messed up stuff going down there. Anyway. To my crappy poetry.

From A Young Man Leaving His Name

What did Peter call himself inside his conscious?
In those moments
In his head
"Don't worry, ____"
or
"C'mon, _______, get in the game!"

Simon, the fisherman
Who loved and was loved
Who felt
Who went out wherever he went
Who visited his friends
Perhaps discussed politics
(But not in front of the centurions)
Who perhaps didn't think he was cut out for anything, really
except for fishing
which was who he was?

Maybe he didn't do anything but fish
At least, we can't learn from
Matthew, Mark, Luke, and John
Editorial changes prohibited
God's word from talking about a Fisherman
Except to point out that he was a Fisherman
(Simon was inconsequential) until the
Moment
he saw a bearded man calling to him?

Or was it Peter?
The man who did everything?
The man who was remembered?
Who called Jesus by his true name, "Son of God, Messiah"?
The Disciple, The Apostle
Remembered after
(and by)
more powerful fellowships, even the centurions
A Rock that healed
A Rock upon which a Church was founded?
(But that depends on what name you call them by)
Who gave his life just because he would not renounce a name?

Did he use the name given to him by God?

I hope
He used Simon
To build Peter