#clergy
I think the patron saints have all been left for dead.
The lies have all been said,
and payments been arranged.
The depositions all went down behind the scenes.
The clergy spilled the beans,
but somehow the guilty never found
Have you heard of Jesus?
He was very wise,
now he lives up in the sky.
sing along, sing in spite of all the pain
sing in spite of all of the pain
Children start out in the world so full of dreams.
Then come the philistines,
who run those dreams into the ground.
Yes, it’s been confirmed, the patron saints are dead.
The church is in the red,
and we are all concerned.
I can imagine Jesus,
with a mighty spell,
sending all those guys to hell.
sing along, sing in spite of all the pain,
sing in spite of all of the pain.
The sordid stories that were hidden from us all,
except those on bathroom stalls,
which turned out to be the facts.
Children start out in the world so full of trust,
their faith was easily crushed,
and now we’re filled with a righteous rage.
Now we’re living in a new enlightened age -
sure that we can be the change.
Can we live like Jesus?
Can we avoid lies - can we be compassionate and wise?
sing along, sing in spite of all the pain
sing in spite of all of the pain
Feb 6, 2024
Feb 6, 2024 at 11:30 PM UTC
The Hindu girl was very poor.
Christianity offered her a better life.
The church bribed her to Christianity.
All she had to do was very simple.
She was very beautiful and slim.
All clergy wanted her to be their exclusive Ecclesiastical Ecdysiast.
May 28, 2019
May 28, 2019 at 12:03 AM UTC
Reverend
lichen
careful man, hey
you
yes, you!
with the suit
and the beanie hat-
folded hands
hands bathed in contradiction
let those grinning demons in!
our crowded hearts echo of repent
each ringing in your hollows
Q-tip squeaky clean..
O, Reverend
Mend me!
teach me
how to take and take and take,
and still look upon this turning world with empty eyes
Like no lives are at stake!
Like we are actually brave
Like we are really awake
As if all is only
left or right
black or white
day until night
lines then spaces
words only prayer
worlds
built upon prayer
never can one do harm without intent
never would a holy man
two hands
sewn by God—
you must be remembering wrong.
Sep 25, 2018
Sep 25, 2018 at 8:53 PM UTC
**** **** as the world teaches you to,
And do not be ashamed that you do,
Nasty world clergy keeping you,
Keeping you rather restricted.
Wanking it off and easing the pressure,
Above *********** you always rise,
Not paying heed to their words,
Kiss oneself as much wished.
**** off your tensions and problems,
And do not be uncertain about it,
Nostredamus did it often too,
Kind of intelligentia do it.
Oct 26, 2016
Oct 26, 2016 at 1:43 AM UTC
Come and let me tell you
Tales of distant wizards
In far off foreign lands.
The speak in words of poetry
And magic incantations
Even they don’t understand.
They tell of arcane stories
Of dragons and the caves
Of gemstones where they hid.
They tell of verve and derring-do
And swashbuckling heroism
In legendary acts they never did.
They chant, these ancient shamans
To deities and gods of ancient name
Who they know well are fakers.
They foretell and portend wonders
And riches for those who rule, and
Call themselves movers and shakers.
These magic-minded soothsayers
Drape themselves in auras of mystery
And tell the believers they can heal.
And if the congregation fails to look
Closely enough at their performances
They believe the mythological is real.
And time can coat the stores in paint
That looks like the patina of the ages
So it passes the inspection of he willing.
No true believer looks for cracks
In the walls around the real facts
Or questions the truth they are killing.
Jul 27, 2015
Jul 27, 2015 at 7:51 AM UTC
**Unload your vetted earnings
in the collection baskets,
small price to pay
for holy water's kickback,
God thundered an indignant snort
'pon gold filled prospered coffers
within corporate excesses
of enriched gaudy churches
wondering when HIS word
had begotten misconstrued
in clergy's interpretations
of powers' self-aggrandizement
and pontificating gratification;
whilst the huddled masses
were starving midst the pews**
Jun 13, 2015
Jun 13, 2015 at 8:15 AM UTC
The hollow I am, habit, cowl of the sky, hand
Of the holy, mouth of the most high witnessed all
The bloodshed of the children He should love. A bullet
To the infidel set to flight, bore the dove. I
Don’t know what it was that inside me died, at the
Sermon in the woods, they were preaching in the dirt
It was faith in silence made the good man convert.
Bore the holy cross, they would bear the holy sword
Those defamers of His name, smoking sacred an
Offer to Adonai, the poor lamb they had lamed.
Christ wept, held his face littered by the holy man
‘Till he disappeared from vision became just an
Ordinary man, to walk in the valley of death.
I took from my shoulders the weight of debts past on.
Centeries’ share of ghosts of the ****** lived and died
Like this iconoclast and I blazed on that path,
Now penitent for everyman for all the love
That he may bring is surely shame to everything,
And to all by it abide. I shall revere no
Holy man nor the love he cast aside nor He
Who allowed the righteous to bear His name in vain.
Aug 14, 2014
Aug 14, 2014 at 10:15 PM UTC