A Saint I Ain'T Poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar

If there is anyone seeking,
Anything in my life to taint?
I'll be the first to say...
A saint I ain't!

There is too much to explore.
Too much to experience,
Than to choose it to be ignored.
I want to adventure my life!
And that freedom nature offers.
And I can well afford.

Why should I deny myself...
To please those with their noses in the air?
With their stiff necks.
And their tight high lifted derrières!

People like that...
Can remove their behinds of my track.
The path on which I place my steps...
May shock others to hold their breath.
In fact...
Many like that,
Are busy body pests!
You know the kind...
Those who find time,
To wine and dine their displeasures.
As they pour someone's tea!
And I don't mind at all...
Serving up a full pot of my own for starters.
I want it known...
I can be quite cordial.
Even in the midst,
Of my own possible degradation.
I like to sit...
And listen to this mix of gossip.
The 'seriousness' of it...
Is worth a hasty limited visit.

I choose to do the unexpected.
With God's blessings,
Of course.

If there is anyone seeking,
Anything in my life to taint?
I'll be the first to say...
A saint I ain't!
Or profess to know,
What my 'Creator' wishes.
Like some hypocrites...
Quick to quip from scriptures.

I keep my eye on folks like that!
They can become defensive...
When questioned about their lack of facts.

Nor do I choose to walk on water.
Today...
I probably could.
Much of it is too polluted anyway.
Like some people with minds...
With nothing else to do,
But define how others should be living their lives.
Like 'themselves'...
Who have been certified self righteous.
And gossip as they sit in church pews.
Discussing where the pastor's wife,
Purchased her brand new shoes.

A saint I ain't.
Especially after observing...
Those who make claims,
They are the elite of 'christianity'.
And you can find them anywhere.
Once they have been seen...
Like roosters with hens pecking,
On any scene they pronounce as qualified...
For their self indulgence.