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you've been bad, said the Lord.

the Gospel is not a poem-in-your-pocket,
your public Readings smell of sham-theatre,
you sleep in the pews and you tread on the main aisle with no remorse.
none! nada!

all you think about is men, men, men, ***, ***, ***. don't even get me started on your thoughts while sitting during service!
******* disgusting!

lord's name in vain.
missing Sundays.
thinking you can get around by looking pretty. and the list goes on!

*****, go to ****, said the Lord.
cant blame him. really, really sorry if this offends anyone. it's a joke, and supposed to be a blunt, self-deprecating, God-is-a-chill-modern-dude version of Judgement Day.
belief is a box
open at the top
but still you stand

conscious like rocks
atoms like fear
lay tight
of change so
still you stand

aware the nuance of life
cannot be explained in one breath
so still you stand
... in the box
In this world,
good becomes bad,
bad becomes good,
religions just a word.
When I think of what yin and yang mean to me.
What means it, that I a man
Renounce the fabric of souls?
Lineage not in thought, but surely in clan.
Stay silent til perish. Yell out in anguish. Having holes.
Let us see,
Who I could be.

I am a pious man
And take this from my belief,
Death means nothing to us
Glory awaits loyal men.
I shall not know answers
Until I have long perished.
But God loves me, and her.
Must an angel fall for me?
Evil has Genesis,
In the majorities sake.
The world is to end soon.
**** opens to wicked men.
Barren, worldly ******.
Birth the christ unto our kind.
Visions of futures past
Are at the hand of my God.

I am a pious man
And take this from my kinship,
Children grow in heaven
And grow ripe in jesus’ reach.
Though not as one being,
God, Jesus one in purpose.
Do not indulge in fruit,
But replenish the Earth’s land.
With those of my ***** birth.

I am a pious man,
And take this from my namesake,
We are generous men.
Neighbors above our purpose.
We proselyze our word
Golden and Holy Teachings.
I pray to my Savior
As if he sat next to me.

I am a Pious man,
And take this from my Wife’s love,
I am glad I changed me.
Abandoned the world, two years.
I love our children so
Reflected of Holy light.
I have so much more faith
Than any men ever needs.

I am my own man,
And take this from my questions,
Few answers manifest thoroughly in session.
And inconsistencies are greater than.
I love a Pious Woman,
I fear what she must know
I know no gladder Teachers,
Than a priestess in her veil.
But give her another man.
As I’m cursed with knowledge so.
I await her enthusiasm
To convince my soul to grow.
But I mostly know my answer
So I fear her response.
I am no Pious man.
What awaits me at the morrow.
Be Myself I can.

I am no Pious man,
And take this from my hardships,
I love a Pious Woman
While on a Godless trip.
It changes things when your ex girlfriend thinks you go to ****. I thought I could believe in what she did, but I couldn't lie to myself. Alternating in Rhymes, and 5 to 6 syllables.
Guilty by choice
Guilty by rage, not by faith
Guilty to crave, to thrive, to smile
Cheer on for you are guilty of all these charges. Proclaim your hunger for your right of passage.
Jo 1d
I was brought into the world more delicate than a flower skin
With a heart so pure it was as if it was meant to be broken
The world took advantage of it
Inflicting fear and anxiety upon my innocent soul
Over things that I couldn't control
The pain simply wouldn't ease
I was sure it would be the end of me
Until one day something broke inside of me
The devil swooped out of his hiding place and made his way into my heart
He hardened every part of me until I was unrecognizable
Another one of his soldiers
Destined to carry out his deeds
A girl made of stone with no remorse left in her soul
Hungry for a chance to prove just how deadly she could be
Honestly I have no idea what this is about it's kind of just me looking back on how I truly believe the pain I've been through has changed me into an unrecognizable person, a bad one
Do we pray if in the universe alone?
Are our hearts void prone?
Fill them with what our hearts make known.
For she knows, beautiful on the throne.
To her the universe and its nature was shown.
Her mind is her universe, her perceptive zone.
And everything around it, proof set in stone.
But be it so, from conscience desire we take a loan.
For many on points may agree, in our own little worlds we are lone.
For what does a God make but things to atone?
Only but victims to sanctification, deified backbone?
But she sees it, beyond our eyes and senses a capstone.
Our evils we disown
Our deeds we enthrone.
I cease to understand, this love gemstone.

I do what I think, and from it know what I feel.
For reality and it’s perceptions I know not the deal.
I know what it isn’t but not to it’s spiel.
For reality in a basket was packaged and sealed,
I know not the inscriptions, but I know their look and it’s seel.
For I take pride in my work, and to thank need I kneel?
Must I sacrifice the heart and the veal?

But it is in her heart, Jesus her hero.
Pointing out her path, in a linear arrow.
Predisposed and into it’s comfort borrow.
Change is menacing, of a ruthless bureau.
But look at the stars more clearly.
Must a human like being, put us here his villains to him and his son the Heroes?
But I feel scrutiny drawing nearer.
As my era of silence draws to a close, I must either rebel or cry “ditto.”
Worship is communalism, it is understood through a collective limbo.
They know some things are wrong but not why, and others mirror.
You cannot have it both ways, at night and in morrow.
Yet there she is, sleeping through sermons but claiming them thorough.
Perhaps she is afraid of a Godless sorrow.
Of those who drift too far, from morality they widow.

But morality is not in every deity.
Morality is Mortal and Ambiguity is Immortal.
Commands change, principles are idle, ideals and idol.
But inward, subjective observation reaches divinity.
I must let her know this, my Goddess.
She reminds me of humility, to love, my lord.
Her reminders of myself are divine.
And her arms are better than heaven.
What is of Satan but condemned from the moment of creation?
Love is the thing that reigns Almighty.
To others my wise sounding works I hope to bless.
And her and I, lovely we are not saints.
But Saints are of God, Ethnocentric to Abrahamic virtues.
Cut your *****, supply ****** no mercy.
**** your sons for your liege.
God is violent, Jesus is peaceful.
How must they agree? Let alone be the same person?

Love across the veil
Doubt only in these moments
“We pray to thee God.”
A kind of hot take on some things my Ex believed in, if you are not a fan of Religious commentary do not read.
my father
the holy spawn
who swims in black and blue catharsis
white needles
now grey and gold
empty gun chambers
that leave dead air for dead deers

the smoke from your frozen lips
causes a destruction that no one sees
except for the Father you keep

you roam around at night
it seems you've lost yourself in the moonlight
you leave trails of dust behind you
when you leave pieces of your life for death to find

i don’t see eyes
i see glass and vapour
and a life, that was left unloved
by a holy one
the river chose
to pull you away
to take you into an unknown place
unsafe for your unlearned heart

you hid in trees and fled to empty houses
and ran for miles
from suspected treason  
your river grew wild
and you grew unafraid
of the currents that kept you aligned  

alive in the shadows you became
in the places where eyes didn’t tread
you dreamed an old life into submission
and sang songs that caused showers of dread
for the minds that owned closed doors

take me away and into your open country
where it is safe for youthful rage to reign
for this world is unsafe for those who dream in daylight
"Hey. Are you giving to the Yemen charity? There's a UK nationalist appeal for the refugees from the conflict."

"Yemen? You mean that bit on the edge of the Red Sea, yeah?"

"Wow. I'm impressed. I thought you failed Geography at school. I did so you must have, too. Considering..."

"Yeah. Well, it was boring as ****. All I remember from Geography class is ******* oxbow lakes and irrigation. That's something for your ****, innit? Pipes and that..."

"I don't think Ethiopian farmers shove pipes up their arses to grow crops..."

"But they do use ****, innit? Same as here. We grow like... potatoes and carrots in ****. You know that, right?"

"What...? Just stop. I haven't got time. I'm collecting for the Yemen appeal. Are you giving?"

"No chance, bro."

"What?! Why not? You've got a ******* heart, haven't you? Imagine if it were your kids, your grandmother starving to death..."

"I'll tell you why, bro. This t'ing in the Yemen, this war...religious is it?"

"What war isn't religious"

"Actually most of them, bro. Religion might be a flag to wave but it ain't the reason for war. There's always something hiding under the god-cloth, gee. Trust. Might be greed for resources. Might be land border control. Politics, bro then religion. That's war. Even if it looks the other way around."

"Have you been watching David Ike again on YouTube? What did I tell you? Once a racist, always a racist. The man thinks he's the ******* Oracle of Delphi."

"No, man. I don't watch him anymore. He looks like one of the ******* Village of the ****** kids, grown up. And he chats ****. Mainly that, innit."

"Well, anyway. Look. War is bad and any help is good..."

"Is Britain helping?"

"Yes. Of course. This is a UK appeal."

"Then why is it selling Saudi Arabia guns, planes, tanks and bombs to fight the war against Yemen, innit?"

"Umm...well, countries need security, I suppose."

"Nothing to do with Al-Mahra then, no?"

"Where are you getting your information? What is this? I feel like a criminal here!"

"Just asking, bro. That's all. Just wondering why you thought this war t'ing is kicking off? You like politics and that, don't you?"

"The war is because of rebel insurgency from Houti partisans trying to take back land already given to Saudi Arabia in previous agreements and depose governments in line with Shia Islam laws."

"Why don't nobody stop it? Like Iran if its Shia versus Sunni? Or the ******* UN?"

"Are you off your meds? You seem... different today. More paranoid than usual..."

"Thank you, Mister Propaganda. Now can I tell you the real reason, gee?

"Please do. I'm all ears."

"At the ****-end of Yemen is al-Mahra. The Saudis want a transnational oil pipe through to the coast.
Yemen has oil but the pipe is more important, bro. It'll bring in big dollar and ease transport of oil to other countries.
Every country bar Yemen stands to profit from the pipeline. Even Iran. Which is why it does ****-all but denounce the war, innit?
Same as everyone else. They cry wolf, say 'shame on you' and collect money, innit? But under the table, they're selling the guns to hurry up the result and it works two ways for the UK.
Not only do they get rich funding the ******* war but if the Saudis win, Britain will get rich, too. And if the war carries on for all time, they get rich. Its win-win, gee. A bless t'ing."


"So why would I give money to a country that's backing a war out of greed?
The charity is British, yeah?
So I'm then funding more ******, right?
I'll give money through crowdfunding online, gee. Straight to the people who need it, not through some conscience-money charity ****.
Trust that ****, bro. That ain't David Icke. That's me."

"I never thought..."

"You people never do, bro."

"You people? You have been watching Icke, haven't you!?"

"I mean you conscience-monkeys. People who jump on a good cause because it raises their esteem and public profile.
Something to write on Facebook, innit?"

"You're damaged. I can't take much more of you."

"... Said the wound to the salt, right?"


"Crowdfunding bro. That's all I'm saying. Hey, you fancy a curry? I'm buying."
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