I don’t know the last time I felt so light; as a cloud on a summer day or a sigh from a sleeping baby.

I think there might be daisies or daffodils blooming in my rib cage-

I think the sun may have seeped into my skin and found its way into my bloodstream turning it to rivers of honey-

I think my skin has begun to smell like pine and my breath like frankincense and myrrh-

I think the moon is watching me tonight with her wide mother eyes, wondering how I shine so bright-

I think I may ignite-

I think I may collapse like a star into the dark beauty inside myself and burst forth again in even greater splendor-

It’s almost too much and yet it’s not enough! I could drink of this river until I drown in agonizing bliss.

Heaven! Earth! Seraphim! Desert dunes! Raging seas! Cedar trees! Frozen fjords! Hummingbirds! Are you watching?

I think, I think I am becoming!

Do you think God laughs?
If so, what at?
Perhaps at some gathering storm...
Or cats?
Or maybe every warm and loving act?

Do you think God cries?
And that’s the rain from the skies?
Does he express his ethereal woes?
Or is the rain the runoff
When he washes his ethereal toes…

Do you think God Cowers?
Like when there’s a spider in the shower…
And if he does, what does he fear?
Is there something up there…
or something here?
Is he afraid of towers?

Do you think God rages?
Does he pout?
Is the thunder when he shouts?
Does the world shake,
Does the ground quake,
When he snores?

…

Does God have chores?

Limericks VI - Religion

Pell-Mell for Hell Mel
by Michael R. Burch

There once was a Baptist named Mel
who condemned all non-Christians to hell.
When he stood before God
he felt like a clod
to discover His Love couldn’t fail!

###

Why I Left the Religious Right
by Michael R. Burch

He's got Jesus's name on a wallet insert
and "Hell is for Queers" on the back of his shirt
and he upholds the Law,
for grace has a flaw:
the Church must have someone to drag through the dirt.

###

Hell to Pay
by Michael R. Burch

A messiah named Jesus, returning
from heaven, found planet Earth burning
with children unfed,
so he suggested: “Instead
of war, why not consider cheek-turning?”

Indignant right-wingers retorted:
“Sir, your pacifist views are distorted!
Just pull the plug quickly
on someone who’s sickly!
Our pursuit of war can’t be aborted!”

###

The Heimlich Limerick
by Michael R. Burch

for T. M.

The sanest of poets once wrote:
"Friend, why be a sheep or a goat?
Why follow the leader
or be a blind *******?"
But almost no one took note.

Keywords/Tags: limerick, nonsense, light, humor, humorous, religion, Christian, Christianity, religious, right, Jesus, Christ, bible

In secret place where once I stood
Close by the Banks of Lacrim flood,
I heard two sisters reason on
Things that are past and things to come.
One Flesh was call'd, who had her eye
On worldly wealth and vanity;
The other Spirit, who did rear
Her thoughts unto a higher sphere.

"Sister," quoth Flesh, "what liv'st thou on
Nothing but Meditation?
Doth Contemplation feed thee so
Regardlessly to let earth go?
Can Speculation satisfy
Notion without Reality?
Dost dream of things beyond the Moon
And dost thou hope to dwell there soon?
Hast treasures there laid up in store
That all in th' world thou count'st but poor?
Art fancy-sick or turn'd a Sot
To catch at shadows which are not?
Come, come. I'll show unto thy sense,
Industry hath its recompence.
What canst desire, but thou maist see
True substance in variety?
Dost honour like? Acquire the same,
As some to their immortal fame;
And trophies to thy name *****
Which wearing time shall ne'er deject.
For riches dost thou long full sore?
Behold enough of precious store.
Earth hath more silver, pearls, and gold
Than eyes can see or hands can hold.
Affects thou pleasure? Take thy fill.
Earth hath enough of what you will.
Then let not go what thou maist find
For things unknown only in mind."

Spirit.
“Be still, thou unregenerate part,
Disturb no more my settled heart,
For I have vow'd (and so will do)
Thee as a foe still to pursue,
And combat with thee will and must
Until I see thee laid in th' dust.
Sister we are, yea twins we be,
Yet deadly feud 'twixt thee and me,
For from one father are we not.
Thou by old Adam wast begot,
But my arise is from above,
Whence my dear father I do love.
Thou speak'st me fair but hat'st me sore.
Thy flatt'ring shews I'll trust no more.
How oft thy slave hast thou me made
When I believ'd what thou hast said
And never had more cause of woe
Than when I did what thou bad'st do.
I'll stop mine ears at these thy charms
And count them for my deadly harms.
Thy sinful pleasures I do hate,
Thy riches are to me no bait.
Thine honours do, nor will I love,
For my ambition lies above.
My greatest honour it shall be
When I am victor over thee,
And Triumph shall, with laurel head,
When thou my Captive shalt be led.
How I do live, thou need'st not scoff,
For I have meat thou know'st not of.
The hidden Manna I do eat;
The word of life, it is my meat.
My thoughts do yield me more content
Than can thy hours in pleasure spent.
Nor are they shadows which I catch,
Nor fancies vain at which I ******
But reach at things that are so high,
Beyond thy dull Capacity.
Eternal substance I do see
With which inriched I would be.
Mine eye doth pierce the heav'ns and see
What is Invisible to thee.
My garments are not silk nor gold,
Nor such like trash which Earth doth hold,
But Royal Robes I shall have on,
More glorious than the glist'ring Sun.
My Crown not Diamonds, Pearls, and gold,
But such as Angels' heads infold.
The City where I hope to dwell,
There's none on Earth can parallel.
The stately Walls both high and trong
Are made of precious Jasper stone,
The Gates of Pearl, both rich and clear,
And Angels are for Porters there.
The Streets thereof transparent gold
Such as no Eye did e're behold.
A Crystal River there doth run
Which doth proceed from the Lamb's Throne.
Of Life, there are the waters sure
Which shall remain forever pure.
Nor Sun nor Moon they have no need
For glory doth from God proceed.
No Candle there, nor yet Torch light,
For there shall be no darksome night.
From sickness and infirmity
Forevermore they shall be free.
Nor withering age shall e're come there,
But beauty shall be bright and clear.
This City pure is not for thee,
For things unclean there shall not be.
If I of Heav'n may have my fill,
Take thou the world, and all that will.”


ስጋና መንፈስ

ከለታት አንድቀን ከኝኝ ብላ ወንዝ
በድብቅ ከቆምኩበት ሰዋራ ስፍራ
ስለአለፉና ስለሚመጡ ነገሮች
ሲወያዩ አደመጥኩ
ሁለት እሕትማማቾች፡፡

ስጋ ለበሽ ትባላለች  አንዷ ፣
ግብዝ ሆና ምድራዊ ነገር ላይ
ዓይኗን መትከል ነበር ልምዷ!

ሌላዋ ደግሞ ነፍስ ነው የምትባለው፣
የትኩረቷ ክበባዊ ማረፊያ የተቀነበበው
ምጡቅ ሆኖ ሰማይ ስላለው፡፡

(መጠሪያዋ ስጋ የሆነው)

እሕቴ እኔ የምለው
ቀለብሽ ምንድን ነው?
መመሰጥ፣ በመመሰጥ
ዝምብሎ መስመጥ?

አስረስቶ ሁሉን ነገር
አስከዓለም ዳርቻ
እንዴት ቀለብ ይሆንሻል
ሃሳብ ብቻ?

ግምታዊ ምልከታ
እንዴት ነው የሚፈቅደው
ሐሳባዊ ዕይታ
ተጨባጭ ሁኔታውን
እንዲረታ?

ታልሚለሽ ስለሁሉ
ከጨረቃ ባሻገር
ቦታ ለመያዝ
እዚያ መንደር?

እዚያ ብዙ ሃብት አለ
አንቺን የሚጠብቅ
ምድራዊ ሃብትን
አጠልሽቶ የሚያስንቅ?

ምናባዊ ምልከታሽ ትንሽ
አልተሳከረም አልተምታታም
እነኛን ጥላዎችን የሌላቸው
አካላዊ ድንበር
ለመያዝ ሲፍጨረጨር?››

ስሚኝማ ስሚኝማ
እኔማ  ቀልብ እንደትገዢ አደርጋለሁ
‹‹ጥረት ይገዛል ግርማ
ደምቆ በውጤት ሸማ!››

ምን ልትሺ ትችያለሽ
ከልዩነት መሐል
የአይንሽ ብረት
ከሚያየው
ተጨባጭ ግዝፈት?

ክብር ትወጂያለሽ
ለመሆን ገናና
ልክ  ለማግኘት እንደጣሩት
ሞትን ተሻጋሪ ዝና?

ትፈልጊያለሽ ዋንጫ ማንሳት
ስምሽን ለማስተጠራት
እርጅና የማይገድባት?

በጣም ትቋምጪያለሸ
ሀብት በደንብ ለማግኘት
የሱን ክምር ማየት?
መሬት አላት ገና
መዳብ፣እንቁና ወርቅ
ዓይን የሚሰርቅ
ክጅ እቅፍ የሚተርፍ፡፡

ደስታ ተፅኖ አይፈጥርብሽም?
ልምከርሽ አትንገልጀጅ
የምትፈልጊውን ድርሻሽን ውሰጅ
ሑሉ ተትረፍርፎ
ከመሬት ደጅ፡፡

የምትመኚውን ስታገኚው
እባክሽ እንዳትለቂው
አስበልጠሸ ነገሮች ወና
እነኛን  የምታስሺያቸውን
በምናብሽ ዳና፡፡

(መንፈስ )

ግን አንቺ አሁንም ሳትፀፀቺ
ሆነሽ በስሜትሽ የምትነጂ
ልቤን አትጉጂ!

ታውቂያለሽ ምያለሁ
(በርግጥ አደርገዋለሁ)
አንቺን አንደጠላት
አሳዶ ለማጥቃት!

በርግጠኝነትእንደቤትሥራ
የግድ እንደሚሠራ
እፋለምሻለሁ
እስካይ ተንኮታኩተሽ
ከአቧራ ተደባልቀሽ!

እሕቴ እርግጥ ነው
መንታነታችን
ግና ታውጇል
ፍልሚያ በመሓከላችን
ምከኒያቱም አባታችን
አንድ አይደለም?
አንቺ የአዳም
አምሳያ አይደለሽ
የተገኘሽ ከሱ  ስጋ ና ደም፤
የኔ ግን ስሪት ከሰማይ ነው
ተወዳጅ አባቴን እንዳፈቅረው፡፡

አስመሳይ ነሽ
የምትይው
አይሆንም በጭራሽ
አንቺ መልቲና
ሸርዳጅ ጉዳተት አድራሽ!

ገና በደል ታደርሸብናለሽ
ስለዚህ ያንቺን ከቱ ሙገሳ
ነኝ ወዲያው የምረሳ
በዚህ ምክኒት
ምንም፣ ላምንሽ አልችልም !

ስንቴ ያንቺ ባሪያ
መናጆ ልሁን
ስፈጽም
አንቺ የምትይውን?
ከአሁን ወዲያ
ጆሮዬ ለምክርሽ
መስሚያው ጥጥ
ነው የሚሆንብሽ፡፡

በአንቺ እኩይ ደስታ
በጣም ነው የምናደድ
እንዲሕ አይነት ሃብት
አይችልም አኔን ሊያጠምድ!

አንቺ አንደጀብዱ
የምታነሺውን ተግባር
አልችልም እኔ ላፈቅር
ጭራሽ ስለሚስገድደኝ
ቅንድቤን አንድቋጥር!
ምከኒያቱም የኔ እይታ
ከፍ ካለ ቦታ
አንዲሁም የኔ ስኬት ደስታ
አንቺን ስረታ
በመለጠቅ
የድልአድራጊነት ካባ ሳጠልቅ፤
በካቴና ተጠፍረሽ
ሳይሽ‹‹ ምሪ ቀጥይ ተብለሽ!››

የእኔ የኑሮ ሁኔታ
ምንጭ  ሊሆን  አይገባም
ያንቺ ሐሜታዊ ደስታ፡፡
ስለኔ ስጋ ቀለቤ
በጭራሽ ሊኖርሽ
አይችልም ህሳቤ!

የኔ ስውር መኖ
የኔ ምግበ ስጋ
የህይወት ቃል ነውና
አንቺ ምድራዊ ደስታን
ከመሻት፣ ከምታጠፊው ሰአት
የኔ ምልከታ
ያጎናፅፈኛል እርካታ፡፡

ጥላ አይደለም የማባርረው
በብልጭልጭ ነገር
አይደለም የምደመመው
ሁሌ አርካብ የምረግጠው
ከፍ ወዳለው ለመውጣት ነው፤
ግና ለክፋቱ ይሄ ነገር
ይዘለላል ከአንቺ
አንኮላ  ጭንቅላት ድንበር!

ለሰማዊ አሴቶች
ነፍሴ ተመንጥቃ ሥታበቃ
እኔማ፣
እቀየራለሁ ልክ
በምስኖ አንደለማ፡፡


አይኖቼ
ሰንጥቀው አፍላጦኑን
ያያሉ ስውር የሆነውን
ካባዬ የተሰራው
ከወርቅ ወይ
ሐር አይደለም
ወይ ከተመሳሳይ
መሬትላይ ከሚታይ
የኔ ካባ ልዩ ሆኖ ይልቃል
ከምታንጸባርቀው ፀሃይ ፀዳል፡፡


የኔ ፀዳል
ዘውዴም ከቶፓዘ እንቁ ከወርቅ
ይበልጣል መላኮች ራሰ ላይ
ክብ ሰርቶ ከሚታይ!

ያከተማ
ልኖርበት የማስበው ነው
መሬት ላይ አቻ የለው
ግድግዳው ረዥምና ጠንካራ ነው
በሩን የሚጠብቁት
መላዕክት ናቸው
መንገዱ የተሰራው
አይን አይቶት ከማያውቅ
ብርሃን ከሚያሳልፍ ወርቅ፡፡

ከዙፋኑ ስር ተነስቶ
የወትት ወንዝ ይፈሳል
ቀልብ ገዝቶ!

ለህይወት የሚሆነው ውሃ
ኩልል እንዳለ ይዘልቃል!
ለፀሃይ ለጨረቃ
ማንም ደንታ የለውም
የግዚአብሔር ግርማ
ለሁሉም ስለሚበቃ
ሻማ መለኮስ
መብራት ማብራት
የለም
ስለማይኖር ለጨለማ ስጋት፡፡

ከህማም አንዲሁመ ድካም
ነፃ ይሆናለ ሁሉም
ማርጅት የሚባለ  ነገር
አይታስብመ ከቶ
ውበት ስለሚታይ
ገዝፎ፣ደምቆና አብርቶ!

ያፀአዳ ከተማ ለአንቺ አይደለም
እኩይ ነገር እዚያ የለም፡፡

የኔ ድረሻ ከሆን ከሰማይ
መሬትና በቅፉ ያሉት
ይሁኑ ያንቺ ሲሳይ፡፡

(በአን ብራንደስትሪት/ ትርጉም  በዓለም ኃይሉ ገ/ክርሰቶስ)

When you feel confused, picking up from thousands of standards, are you really right?
But as you get older, the same standard's felt right at day but wrong at night.

With the continuously changing of judgemental behaviour, how sure are you?
Without having counter explanation of your standard doesn’t mean you are not wrong at  now.

More "being afraid of Quantity" than "being amazed at Quality",
Avoiding from being a "fish out of water", are you sacrificing the sense of " calling a ***** a *****" in you?
Giving it a thought, you know, democracy doesn’t work when truthfuls are only a few

Are you sincere, side effects that are cumulatively threating us, of the amusements that are cheap?
Burning your brain, you know, getting a good reward requires thinkings that are deep.

Will you be stable with your temporary feeling of satisfaction?
Or learning to believe, before measuring with scale, your scale's required correction.

Can you see a wall Between us?

With every second's ticking on the clock, increasing the strength, increasing the space between us
With the increasing strength of the wall, truths are becoming reddish through the wall made of glass

Do you know this wall? With every truth striking here, mixing with lies, makes confused reflection
And this rays, which your eyes couldn’t see, do you consider breaking up through prism, with proper inspection?
Before judging the ray, did you check the light? Are you sure your eyes aren’t in deception?

What's pushing you back? Did you look? Is there enough ground on your way back?
Looking forward, are you walking backward? When you find someone instead of something... Who's pushing you back? Still hesitate to check?

Why? Didn’t you notice it’s only reflection of the glass?
The metal that shines at day, don't think it precious,
The same thing you see golden, i see colorless
Are you sure you're not in wild-goose chase?
The same optical illusion you will feel,
When waking up from the longer version of your dream

Can you stop, take a breath, blowing away the leaves that has no root
Can you listen to me, traverse the nodes of my words, untill you reach the truth, zooming it out

Will you prefer "connected dots" over an arbitrary dot?
Are you ready to strike the wall, with the hammer of truth?
Over and out

I feel the turning once again of this world on which I stand.
I feel the steady cosmic motions and ponder if it is planned.

Do you stop to think, as I am on occasion inclined to do.
To speculate if plans and turning are meant for me and you?

So short the time we witness the revolving of the world.
Seemingly too short a time to see purpose in any plans unfurled.

Do you know a faith that assures you of what tomorrow brings?
Or have you come to question any meaning in religious things?

No one has ever truly known if it was made to turn for me or you.
I know the world keeps turning endlessly no matter what I do.

The flow of time and its expanse argue against a mortal plan.
At least in terms of one centred upon the species we know as man.

Why so big and why so long and why be here at all?
Why believe ourselves important when we so obviously are small?

So short the time we play our piece in what a plan might be.
And so far the plans horizons... too far for our small minds to see.

And yet my mind is caught in the fact that we are small...
Why something seemingly insignificant witnesses or thinks at all?