Pelagius Pummelled by Petals

TULIP

I hereby smite thee with my flower, you simpering Pelagian.
By the five petals of my predestinating tulip you shall wilt, wither and die. My TULIP flourishes, watered by the blood of martyrs, fertilized and flowering by God’s sovereign grace. Away with your merely human worldly wisdom. Christ cultivates a blooming garden of grace, and our Savior hallows the Augustinian fragrance flowing freely from this line of flight. It’s time to stop and smell the TULIPS !
Tremble and surrender, worldlings, before the eternal might of my gentle flower as it sings, blooming on a theological stalk, waving gently in the wind of liberty, a floral banner proclaiming freedom. Away with your works; out, out, and perish, you preachers of what cannot save. Give up, give in and praise the Lord of hosts for redeeming grace and unmerited favor.
This eternal flower must go forth conquering and to conquer. To hell with human potential, free will and progress falsely so-called. Blessed are the Antinomians, for they shall inherit the empty ruined tombs of Arminian theology.

La Kumbia Kalvinista

La Kumbia Kalvinista no es ritmo vaticano
se baila todo libre con la biblia en la mano

La Kumbia Kalvinista es la onda reformada
las sectas sí prometen—pero no entregan nada

Esta cumbia trascendente, pero poco conocida
es la cumbre de verdad y predestina pura vida

La Kumbia Kalvinista es la nueva nueva onda
la cantan las iglesias y ofrecen otra ronda

La Kumbia Kalvinista no lo bailan los de Roma
si un padre lo intenta terminará caído en coma

es un baile teológico que es absurdo mientras lógico
lo baile cada tribu, cada etnia y antropólogo

el papa mismo, y su esposa
bailan esta cumbia fabulosa
tu estado de animo no es nada
sino gracia predestinada

 lo bailan los sajones con cojones

 lo bailan las alemanas si le dan la ganas

este baile está basado en un ritmo luterano
apetece a los gringos, a los indios, y a fulano

no bailaban los franceses aunque Calvin era suya
si bailaban los escoceses y gritaban aleluya !

 

GRACIAS al SILABEITOR

 

¿Haiku?  pues… no sé.
es algo chino, yo creo.
Es un poema.

Pardon My French

bacon_screaming_po_2352205b

Reformed Limericks for your erudite perusal:

You may cover the stench with a potpourri—
while you gag, as you finger your rosary.
Sacrosanct nourriture…
or decayed pourriture?
(Other patrons might label it Popery.)

Though the tepidly Protestant matron
of a church that is stagnant and state-run
does not care about Luther,
We’ll bother to truth her
with Calvin or Knox as our patron.

Though the Vatican’s bottomless coffers
make some very un-Lutheran offers,
I would rather talk Tetzel
(with beer and a pretzel)
and drink with the rebels and scoffers.

We forget that the birth of the Kirk
was a vicious, un-Catholic work
One recalls Bloody Mary…
and Knox was no faerie.
His doctrine drove Satan berserk.

Many chairmen, deficient in wit
who on flimsy theologies sit
with no justification
hate predestination,
reviling it more than a bit.

Barthelemy (in French: St. Bartholomew)
was unpleasant, as most of the martyrs knew
Roman Catholic correction
or violent deception?
In heaven, they’re getting the overview…

People gag, and then murmur the rosary
seeking solace in incense or potpourri
you must pardon my French
but this damnable stench
smells like nothing so much as like Popery.

 

    ♗♗♗♗♗♗♗

Rastafari live !
JAH bless all the Haiku, dem.
Haile Selassie