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Glenn Currier Feb 2019
Which church corner should I go to
which is safe with green lights?
It seems every one has glue and goo
rays of sun and dark of night.

Being a follower - not my big skill
not comfy on the disciple ship
but I’m hungry and want my fill
trying to get God in my grip.

But I keep finding him all over the place
can’t capture and save him just for me
see him in a cat’s and a child’s face
he won’t be my prisoner.  He is free

like his forgiveness and open heart.
So this ship is one I might board
the ship of joy about to depart
the cost of this trip I can afford.
I write this in response to something I read in Dietrich Bonhoffer’s book, The Cost of Discipleship.
mderdun Feb 2019
St Paul stands
stiff as a stone
recovering from
centuries of sinful sorrow
buttocks bare
waiting next to an Itsu.
adrien Feb 2019
10%
"This is church, this is where you come to forget"
listen to our pastor confirm
prescribed frail justification
bless my bruises, drink my blood?                                        
we will give you our food money if you will allow us to make an offering
i promise you, it's more than 10 percent.

we will go home after this halted hour
march to our waiting stations                                       
she would leave her bedroom if she could.
she has a headache again.
your mother is busy praying.                                                         ­                     

Father shows us grace.
Father shows us heaven.
Father shows us stars.                                           
Father shows us stars, too...                                          
every night, I pray to them.
i don't think anyone will get it, it's cool.
Ofelia Jan 2019
The moon is my goddess,
her beams lights my path.
In this religion, enlightenment is not a process
but a forever state of mind to have.

The forest will be my church,
roots will be my holy text.
I want trees instead of gravestones
and the wind will listen as I confess.

I will taste the moonlight,
will become one with the goddess.
Since heaven isn't on earth,
and I must have access.
s Willow Jan 2019
Wispy moonlight beams,
enter the barren church
a place of dreams.
Outside next to a silver birch.
Inside women in search for someone,
someone long gone.
I kneel upon the alter.
The pain fills the void with slaughter.
A slave, frozen to his peace.
Nothing left to hang on.
It’s the end run.
Robbed forms,
lifted the storms.
However, my naked flesh spared not.
Poetress2 Dec 2018
She stood outside a Church one Morn,
deciding if she should go in;
Would they judge her for the clothes she wore,
or see through her lifetime of sin?
~
The people hurriedly passed her by,
without a glance or a smile;
So she lit another cigarette,
and decided to wait for awhile.
~
They were all wearing fancy clothing,
she knew she could not compare;
With the ragged dress she was wearing,
nor the wilted rose in her hair.
~
Another person passed by her,
should she enter or simply go home;
But her spirit was yearning for love,
a love she had never known.
~
She decided to go in anyway,
no matter how ***** she felt;
Their lofty glances encompassed her,
as her tender heart started to melt.
~
Where was the love she'd expected,
the love she thought she'd find there;
She sat alone in a Pew,
as the Congregation just stared.
~
Then she saw a Cross o'er the Pulpit,
oh how her Spirit was touched;
For Jesus was hanging upon it,
then she knew His love was enough.
~
She quickly rushed to the Altar,
not caring what everyone thought;
She slowly bowed her head to pray,
and she found the forgiveness she sought.
~
The Pastor knelt down beside her,
he seemed to know what to say;
"My child, if you have repented,
all your sins have been washed away.
~
She left that building soon after,
as a peace came over her Soul;
She didn't stay for the message,
for God gave her one of His own.
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