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A historian who retells humanity's triumphs and downfalls, only to their journal every night.

A preacher set on converting the masses, barracading the doors of the chapel from the inside.

A marine biologist on a mountaintop, speaking of the things of the ocean to the sky.

Passion and desire meeting the fruitless nature of distance and doing nothing to close it.

So too is your heart, searching for affection and adoration yet hidden from even your own eyes.
Don't reach for me from the other side of the canyon.
Glenn Currier Jun 2020
Some people are writers
some are speakers or preachers.

Some try to do both
but one side of them always presses forward
as if to say,
This is who I really am
This is my natural gift.
Bhill Jul 2019
Who out there has beans in their ears
The beans could be brains, they don't make it clear

Where did they come from, I want to know
Will they come out, I really hope so

Are the beans put there by your very own Teacher
I don't think so, maybe it was the Preacher

Are they put there for any kind of cause
Who knows for sure, it makes one take pause

I know I was told not to put them there
That's all I remember, I thought I would share....!

Brian Hill - 2019 # 179
This song is real people...
Who remembers?
Who remembers this ****?
Andrew Rueter May 2019
Preacher sees in black and white
So preacher sees he’s right
Justified by God’s light
To judge on sight

Preacher says secular music is evil
Not meant for holy people
He’s not even talking about Slayer
Or Jay-Z rapping about being a player
He uses Led Zeppelin as an example
When more relevant options are ample
My musical taste is trampled
Like some shameful scandal

He tells me not to listen to Crazy Train
So I think he has a lazy brain
That didn’t listen to what Ozzy was saying
That song wasn’t about foxy ladies
Or boxing babies
Or buying a Mercedes
Just diagnosing the rabies
Of a species in training

If I don’t listen
How can I help?
It sounds like a mission
To focus on myself
Instead of pain that is felt
By those who have welts
That kind of life seems reductive and boring
When outside it’s storming
And everyone ignores me
The music is God performing
Just for me

Preacher wants to delete
The musical elite
Until only gospel plays on repeat
At that point I’ll take a seat
Saying that’s neat
But I’m looking for more
Like opinions on war
And the dominion formed
Through judgmental scorns
That leaves our culture torn

The church is a microcosm of society
With the preacher dictating propriety
Saying ignore the secular entirely
To not live so direly

I found the divide between the secular and religious
When both take their culture to an extent prodigious
They start acting vicious
Once they’re comfortable in their niches
I cannot find any masterpiece
How then do I plan?
There are no shoulders on which to stand
Shoulders of any giant of great stance
How then do I view the remaining journey?
How do I understand?
Tell me, is there still hope for me?

The one I love does not love me in return
All along, I was waiting for a train at the bus stop
I was played — taken for fun
Can the heart still beat after it has been torn?
When will I stop hearing the 'pii pii pii' or 'puun puun puun' ?
When will I ever hear the train horn?
Tell me, is there still hope for me?

I walked with my greatest companion — my thought
Much was I shown
Even beyond what I seek, in gracious colours
Only to reach the journey end to be betrayed by my own thoughts;
What I seek, never sought me
Tell me, of what difference am I from a soldier who trained forever, only to meet his end in just a day, at the battle front?
Tell me, is there still hope for me?

Should I think less of my so called friends
or should I say much of them?
They only show up whenever I find a gem
They deliver panegyric when things are right
And they come by day to leave at night

Shouldn't I sink in thoughts of my home sweet home?
Shouldn't I say less of my very own?
Whom I danced to his great plans — plans for me alone
Great plans for the tomorrow that is never known
Only to find he never had a plan, not even of his own
Tell me, is there still hope for me?

Who should I run to?
Where do I go from here?
Please teach me how to stop thinking
So I may conquer my fear
For I've sought far and near
I've written to many eyes and sang to many ears
I've cried out my heart, but no one seems to care
Tell me, is there still hope for me?

Which leader would you refer me to?
Is it the one who preaches only what the people want to hear
Or the one who looks at evil and pretend not to see due to fear?
Is it the one who says what the heart cannot bear
Or the one who preaches, but does not want to be dared?
Tell me, is there still hope for me?

I am here
all alone
You may not understand me
that, I know
You are not under this tree
How then will you know the nature of its shade?

—JIBRIL ABDULMALIK
I'm left here, all alone, with nothing left. Is there still hope for me?
Brandon Conway Jun 2018
The preacher, the politician both the same
Nothing but swindlers spewing specious sermons
Noisome talk from their mouths came
Rapacious hands, oh what vermin!

I, as if compunctious for my fault
Left feeling only surfeited  
Fulsome factitious assault
I am left as the convicted
Benji James Mar 2018
Back on my high horse
Preaching, teaching
information, education
How to be a better creation
Of your own making
If I fall off my pedestal
I'll surely die
because I'm up so high
Stop trying to knock my know-nothings
Filling the air with empty words
They only fall on deaf ears
Inspirational quotes
Shared on virtual screens
You get lost somewhere in between

©2018 Written By Benji James
Brent Kincaid Jan 2018
Pastor Peter always had
A loving smile on his face
That hid the thoughts in his mind
And often saved him from disgrace.
He stood up in the pulpit
And looked right in place.
He coddled the congregation
With a tear during Amazing Grace.

They called him a man of God;
And assumed he was on the level.
He spent mornings with Jesus
And evenings with the devil.
A perfect place to hide his sins
Smiling down from the pulpit.
All peace and serenity he seemed.
Who would ever have guessed it?

One would think the ladies would
Be wise enough not to permit
Their daughters to stay afterward
As if he was some sainted hermit
And they were visiting a cave
High on a distant mountain trail
Not leaving them alone, just him
And a far too trusting frail.

But there never seemed to be
An end to superstitious fools
Who gladly made their offspring
Unwittingly one of Satan’s tools.
That is the way it goes sometimes
When people trust in the image
Of what they want to believe
Regardless of the final damage.
Eyal Lavi Aug 2017
THE PREACHER GOODY GOODWILL walks center stage and steps up to the Dias; eyeing his congregation with a seriously serious frown. Clears his throat, takes a tissue and blows his nose. Then resumes eyeing all the families sitting before him. Finally-

PREACHER GOODY GOODWILL
Were you unsettled? Did my silence catch you off guard? Or was it my frown, sure that was it, you're not used to seeing me frown, you're not used to me stretching out the silence. And yet I wonder: why is it you were uncomfortable? Surely, even though you weren't prepared for it, it wasn't as if I came here with accusations of you - you Charlotte Ray, or you Jimmy Matheter, or any random one of you for that matter - accusations that you had sinned 'for you surely did as the Good Lord intended you too, you sinned and you will be forgiven if you simply give in to the Good Lord's Word and his wholly Holy embrace.
(BEAT)
And so I wonder - and I ask you to ask yourself - why were you uncomfortable when I stepped up in silence? Have you sinned and are ashamed? Too ashamed, perhaps, to confess said sin? 'For if that's the case then you are truly ******, having committed not just the sin you are ashamed to confess but now in the Good Lord's own House you are committing the sin of pride, you are certainly not humble as the Good Lord asks of us all, are you?
(BEAT)
Are we not told that "the meek shall inherit the earth" as written by the Good Lord's very own, very Good Hand in our Holy Bible?
(BEAT)
So who are you to walk with pride when He asks you to be humble, that's all he asks of you my friends; be true and humble, be meek among men, and He - the Good Lord Himself - will surely welcome you through the pearly gates of Heaven and into his warm embrace.
(BEAT)
It is not for you to be your own judge nor are you tasked with judging others; surely you must see how full of pride one must be to imagine he can rightfully judge others or himself, for that matter, and not be full of pride if he dares take on such a task.
(BEAT)
And let us be clear as He the Good Lord is clear, that to be Holy is to be prideless, to accept Him into your heart is to accept that you have sinned - and you have, each and every one of you - 'for we are imperfect beings in an imperfect world and who among you would claim to be perfect of His Own Son, Jesus Christ himself, was a sinner among men... oh, I see, I literally see your raised eye browse as if you truly don't believe me or perhaps you don't understand. So if I may let me give you just one example which is the one that speaks most true to your very own Preacher Goody Goodwill who does not and has never claimed to be great, oh no have I ever claimed that my good friends? I certainly have not 'for I choose to be good, just good at what I do which is all the Good Lord asks, while his own Son Jesus Christ, he too was a preacher like me, but he was great perhaps the greatest yes! the greatest of all time thus he wasn't very meek, to be great is to have pride and in pride we live in sin; and so, as the Holy Book informs us Jesus Christ died for our sins but consider that he, too, was a sinner among men and so he died for his sins too, he had surely lived in pride and he had not a confessor so he died a filthy man.
(BEAT)
Yes that's right he died as he had lived, full of pride and not so meek, do you see now what I say? You are not too full of pride that you'd consider your own sins and believe that you may judge what is right and what is wrong? No, I know you all as I do myself and you are Good Folks with good hearts and meek as lambs, are you not?

The congregation nods whole heartedly.

PREACHER GOODY GOODWILL
Good good, I know you are, you're good and meek at heart as the Good Lord intended, and so when it's your turn to confess I expect you'll remember this talk we just had, and confess as the Good Lord intended, let me hear all the sins you sinned for you surely sinned, and let me then offer you his Holy reassurance that the penance I deem is the key to your salvation and once you clean yourself of sin then salvation will be yours.

Now the Preacher Goody Goodwill scans the congregation, eyeing them all, one by one; then he smiles and they smile back - all is as it should be once again - and his warmth radiates within the Holy House as he concludes this Sunday's sermon by making the sign of the Cross across his chest.

PREACHER GOODY GOODWILL
You may rise.
Eyal Lavi
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