#pulpit
I don't like medications,
But I've discovered a sleeping pill:
A preacher with all demonstrations.
Garbage ain't cabbage! Stop the anti-gospel spill!
Replaced the gospel with thick voice,
Still didn't suit you with your tailored suit.
The itineraries, English... wrong choice;
You're better off a prof or barrister at a lawsuit.
You said, and I quote:
"Enemy will fall and die and roast in hell." For real?
At this "gospel," you must be the GOAT,
'Cause how good a news does your gospel feel?
You want dead whom Christ died for?
Who has bewitched you, MOG?
So, if I'm sleeping at your gospel or sad humor,
Make no usher wake this sleeping emoji.
Feb 22
Feb 22, 2026 at 5:17 AM UTC
you sit in your pulpit all holier than thou
claiming if it was the 50's
you would fight in the civil rights movement
but now you are sitting back doing nothing
so
shut the **** up
you don't get to watch kids being
pulled from their parents and do nothing
while saying you would have fought for
people of color
you are lying there is no other way to put it
you ******* coward
and by the way the fight for
people of color isn't over so
get off your *** or shut up
Apr 22, 2019
Apr 22, 2019 at 12:41 PM UTC
Looming over deep dug dale
with wending fjord below,
the Pulpit Rock stands over all
in Norway's chilling snow.
A sunny day it was that time
when I fared with my kin.
Up the Pulpit Rock we marched,
met with glory's din.
Imagine now, a cloudless sky
with sapphire blue abounding;
folk from far and wide had come;
the beauty was astounding.
That ancient Northern land in front,
home to the god of thunder.
Though sweat dripped from our weary brow,
we stood and basked in wonder.
So if you've never hiked that way,
you're in for quite a shock.
You'll find a world beyond your own
upon the Pulpit Rock.
Jan 21, 2018
Jan 21, 2018 at 8:10 AM UTC
in the valley
referred to
as the church
of aggressive
amnesiacs
a family
of pickpockets
gathers
for a group
picture
only to find
the single
use
camera
forgotten
and the boy
responsible
missing...
I’ll dream
(when I
die)
of all
the sleep
I didn’t
outside
of mother
get
Nov 18, 2014
Nov 18, 2014 at 4:27 PM UTC
Most peculiarly of most things was that I thought all of this very fishy, daudry, drab, and boresome. This is where I turn on the second table lamp...
In a muster I arrived to the home of my aunt, where at once she drew me into the back of the house, down a flight of stairs made of tusk and bone into a catacomb where she kept a alive collection of wooly mammoths. She said the upkeep wasn't awfully horrendous as she had an invisible backdrop which led to a lion, a witch, and a wardrobe sort of thing. I stood in the gangway behind 10 foot high thigh bones waiting for one of the monstrous red beasts to come greet me, but what arrived was a very large elephant with longer tusks than usual. None of the red sillyness which I had dreamt of seeing in my previous years.
She could see I was not that impressed, and so I was led to another part of her home. Around the corner walked in my uncle in is superb and luxurious dress, reminiscent of 18th century British military fatigues. He said, "I bought the E.T. ride from Universal Studios, but as bringing the whole ride to my home I had them adapt a more suitable version to fit the property. A hangar opened and inside there were four chariots of orange and blue, diamond shaped school buses with their undersides aimed at withholding a V-shaped street. Then in two and two single file order all the classmates of my K-12 years arrived and took seat into the strappings of this 'ride' we were to take. Music played, John Williams even was produced by hologram, and after the ups and downs for several minutes we arrived to what I thought would inevitably be the forest, but rather was what I perceived was a Finnish town. The chariot I was in was stuck in the street, mud, rain, and soot entrenched us. I unbuckled the polyester straps and when I stood I realized that though the seats had built in urinals and toilets they were utterly noiseome to the senses. I followed a local girl to a food mart where I asked how I could find where I was but no one spoke a drop of English.
I corraled the group and told them to wait for me. I followed this girl who seemed quite younger than I to a small apartment in the uppermost floor of a very unsturdy chapel-like home several suburban blocks from our ride. She immediately removed her pants and I saw with my very own eyes that she was hairless and nubile. She insisted that we have a **** and after I caressed her and complained too that she was far too young, she insisted that the age of consent in Germany was actually 13 yet she was 16. I remember it clearly. The most gigantuous feelings of pleasure as I mended a studio closet for my dining room furniture inside her ripening channel. Eventually after an hour we finished, she offered me a towel and some biscuits, which I consumed joyously.
Upon leaving her home I remembered that she had said we were in Germany, and so I produced a measure of Deutsch that I had been saving in my repetoir for the right moment. As Finnish is not my strongest language I was pleased of this and became instantly popular among the other candidates of our journey. This E.T. ride is far different than I remember it having been. Moments later I awoke quickly, a tuft of her black hair on my eiderdown comforter and a veil of tears from the merriment of glee shrouded over my face. After I rolled and balled into the soft feathers of my bedding, I twisted myself again into a knot, and allowed myself to rejoin the soporific treatice I was aiming for.
This is now where I turn off both lamps and go on watching films of a similar style.
Wishing You The Very Best,
Sir Martin Narrod
I keep my family of conscience
I shred my folly of heir
In case of torment or fondness
I never wear underwear.
Jun 5, 2014
Jun 5, 2014 at 6:09 AM UTC