We rise and stand to the praises of hypocrisy

We sit and listen to the opening speeches

The narrow minded preaches 

We rise and stand again fumbling for the right dog eared page of the bible 
Looking for the hymns we hum in disjointed rhythms

Feel the spirit 

Feel the passion

Fill the collection plate

We have to build a church for all the Buddhist heathens that haven't heard the Gospel

We sit and listen again
Hanging our heads and closing our eyes in prayer

I only pray I don't fall asleep this time

The preacher

The reverend

The pastor

The pope

The Speaker of God's Word

The man annointed to deliver the path to God and Jesus but only if you seek salvation thru his sermons

The only thing I can do is watch the seconds ticking away on the wall clock
We've been here for twenty minutes and I wonder if it's impolite to stand up and walk out

But I'm kept in my seat as a sign of loyal friendship to friends that dig this kind of entertainment 

Conversion is on the mind
Saved is a word repeated and replicated until all meaning is ****** from it
Feeding grounds for the imaginary hole that only Christ can fill

Another glance at the clock reveals that God is real and he has chosen to slow the seconds down to a slow trickle

Acrimoniously I keep my mouth shut tightly 
Resisting the urge to laugh at a photoshopped picture of a prim and proper white woman teaching a school of Africans about God and how he provides for all

I imagine the children praying
For food to feed them and all they know
For the wars that have torn apart their families to end
For the death of diseases we found the cures for long ago

But they don't have the money for such nonsense like that 

so please fill the collection plate
We need to build a church in Fiji

I hear its a real nice place for a vacation

(The purpose of this parsimonious pursuit of perplexed passion and phony persecutions progressed prophetically by pontificated prayer and perseverance promises pompous pension plans for prolific preachers and prostitutes preparing for purgatory.)

This church is built for social and business networking
High class socialites and low end born withouts trying to buy their way into heaven thru redemption and baptism

The doors open finally and the choir of angels sing their praises as if God has tired of this gathering just as quickly as myself

Shaking sweaty hands and spreading our words of false sincerities 
We walk out feeling more like heathens and atheists than we did when we entered

Next Sunday I think I'll just stay home like usual.

At a table set for two,
        in a quiet corner,
they sit across;
       an emotional sun
sets acrimoniously
       behind them.
She goes on munching
     something in silence,
never once lifting her face,
    to make the picture perfect.

He sits there, like dumbstruck
    not a single moment
taking eyes off her pretty face,
    as if, she'd vanish if he does.

Entwined in a
      mutually absorbing deliquescence?
Or each one beyond
     the reach of other's mind?

Over a cup of coffee
    going  too cold, to drink now
an intrusive character
     idling on the table next
staring  alternatively at both
        inanely wonder:
"The beginning or the end?"

Yes, I don't like life at the moment,
anxiety fills me but I am numb to emotion.
I'm ridden with fear, a plague
infected by what people have said
in the past
but the effects stayed,
they seem to last.
Repeating in my mind
played over and over all the time.
They speak acrimoniously
and use words unconservatively.
Unknown to them that their words are trenchant
and highly unpleasant.
I'm usually strong
but the pain caused has carried on too long.
I usually don't care how people have come to their reason
no matter what people say, they hurt! What ever the time, day or season.
I'm tired of hiding who I am.
I want to be free, not live in fear that others wouldn't understand.

I met a girl with
Lovable nature and  pretty mind,
Smart enough to fool people,
Ambitious character as she is very kind ,
Never will I meet another like her .

Ripped jeans with
Amazing outfit,
**** back off, she is mine,
Better take this wine,
Hand her to me and say goodbye ,
Acrimoniously I made him cry,
Nothing will be possible as they say,
Don’t give up soon ,just give it a try,
Awesomeness of mine ,
Reckoning me to be her husband was fine,
I would declare the poet name with first letter of each and  every line.