"baal" poems
Are tumhe dekha aj to lga ye sab tumhe bta du.
Haq hai nhi mera koi phir b thoda haq jata du ..
Or kehdu tum behad khoobsurat **
Ye jo tumne akhon ke kajal ko b palko ki had me dal rakha hai.
In aankhon ne jane kitna kehar sambhal rakha hai.
Kya chamak hai aankho me jaise ek choti si khush duniya ka sapna paal rakha hai.
Socha cheru thoda tumhe or thoda sata du.
Are tumhe dekha aj to lga ye sab tumhe bta du.
Haq hai nhi mera koi phir b thoda haq jata du ..
Or kehdu tum nazneen **
Phir kuch tumhare galon k un khaddo ki gehrayi dekhi.
Na us se gehri koi khaayi dekhi.
Nazar htane wala tha k us muskan ne rok lia..
Muje aj sambhalne se pehle tere chehre nadan ne rok lia.
Jane tumhe ye sab kehna lagta hai khata kyu.
Are tumhe dekha aj to lga ye sab tumhe bta du.
Haq hai nhi mera koi phir b thoda haq jata du ..
Or kehdu tum dilnashi **
Vo choti si kali bindi jo thik maathe k me kahi hai.
Vo b har shayar ko kheench rahi hai.
Jaise muje kehti ** idhar aao tumhe kano k jhumko ka pta du.
Are tumhe dekha aj to lga ye sab tumhe bta du.
Haq hai nhi mera koi phir b thoda haq jata du ..
Or kehdu tum dalkashi **
Ye phir thode uljhe thode suljhe baal hai.
Inki to ada hi bemisal Hai
Tumhe tang karte hai.
Manmarji chalate hai jaise tujse jung karte hai.
Chere pe aate hai tum unhe phir peeche karti.
Kabhi clip se kabhi rubber se kheenche rakhti **
Kabhi aaye chehre pe to shayad main b hta du.
Are tumhe dekha aj to lga ye sab tumhe bta du.
Haq hai nhi mera koi phir b thoda haq jata du ..
Or kehdu tum koi kehkasha **
Or vo sone ki nath ko koi
kaise taal sakta hai.
Jise tumne apni teekhi si naak me daal rakha hai.
Or kuch batein in sab se pare hai.
Tera chutkan sa Gussa hai jane tu kaise handle kare hai.
Phir vo pyari si hasi vo sharm haya vo bachpana vo nadaniya.
Samjhdari vo nasamjhi
Vo adayein vo shaitaniya.
Or sambko tumne brabar rakha hai.
Jane ye hisab kaise lagakar rakha hai.
Kya kehna hai kya sunna hai kya bolna hai kya btana.
Kab ruthna hai kab manana hai kab satana hai kab jatana hai.
Teri har ek choti moti khoobiyon ne dil me aatank macha rakha hu.
Jane tune kitne salo se khud ko ishq se bacha rakha hai.
Jane mujme kab se or kyu ye thode guroor k lakshan aaye hai
K tuje suna sabne hai samjh sirf hum paaye hai.
Tum jaisa or koi mere aas paas ni hai.
Phir kaise manliya jaye tum aam ladki ** tum me kuch khas nahi hai.
Ha aj maine ek kadam apne beech ki sarhad se thoda bahar aaya.
Tumne apna hunar azmaya tha vo pic dalke use shayri bnake maine apna hunar aazmaya hai.
ye padhke tum socho k inam du is shayar ko ya koi saza du.
Are tumhe dekha aj to lga ye sab tumhe bta du.
Haq hai nhi mera koi phir b thoda haq jata du ..
Or kehdu tum afreen **
Tum khoobsurat **
Sep 12, 2020
Sep 12, 2020 at 1:20 AM UTC
Olives, figs, dates and mastic, wyrd or oracles, fates and magic, wars and loves and all that’s tragic.
A Father’s lust, an Uncle’s hate, a puzzling labyrinth, through the gate,
A Cretan born, another covered, a starry symbol, placed in the cupboard,
Special place, where heroes meet him, mindless creature, murderous ******
South in winter, man below with a bull above, placed in the heavens by two father's love,
A strangeness here, the seat of trade, in forbidden tryst, a beast was made,
Man of blood, tortured soul, stalks the maze, that stalks the pole,
"Stranger still, this wild pattern, revolving Seventh, Circle of Saturn?"
Unholy corridors made of granites, trace out the movements of the planets!
Life of horror, a soul of pain, terrorizing, with no refrain,
Smells their fear, scents of sin, raging actions, threshing men;
“They call me Moloch! They call me Baal! Tear your body, festoon my hall!”
In trepidation, to gatekeeper sent, a ****** start, for your punishment;
“I collect the hearts, I eat the eyes, I eat the liver, before he dies!”
Olives, figs, dates and mastic, wyrd or oracles, fates and magic, life and death and all that’s tragic.
Jun 9, 2016
Jun 9, 2016 at 11:48 PM UTC
Tum bheegna chahti thi baarish me hanth me hanth pakadkar,
Tum aana chahti thi jindagi me meri khushi bankar,
Chahti thi tum kabhi k mai tumoo baahon me bhar loo,
Sona chahti thi tum mere seene pe sar rakh kar,
Kha tumne hi ek din tha k tham lo haanth tum mera jindagi bhar k liye,
Mujhe bas apna bana lo tum aane vaale har pal k liye,
Har baar dil ko mere sunahre sapnr dikhaye tumne,
Kabhi mere haanthon ko choomkar to kabhi hanthon me haanth pakadkar,
Inkar tumko bhi nahi tha k tumhe mujhse mohabbat hai,
Sirf mujhko hi nahi tumhe bhi mujhse utni hi mohabbat hai,
Tumhar bhi kabhi khwahish thi k baal sanwaroo mai tumhare,
Ungliyon se pajadkar kaan k paas le jaaun sare,
Saath bitayen jindagi baant le har muskurahat aur ansoo aapas me hi saare,
Magar tanha is dil ko ehsaas hua jab toota ye sapna,
Meri khatao se rooth kar rukh mod liya tumne jab apna,
Ab na baaki rah gayi jafa koi,
Tumhe vaapas bulane ki,
Tum mujhse door ** gayi ** chahat todkar apni,
Tum mujhse rooth jati ** ku vaade bhoolkar sare,
Ijaajat tumne hi di thi tumko satane ki,
Satata aaj b nahu hu,
Khata fir bhi ** jaati hai,
Chalo ek baar aa jao,
Na mujhse door tum jao,
Gunah mere kiye saare ,
Bhulakar dil ki ranjish ko paas aa jao tum mere,
Samajh jao dil ki tadpan ko nigahen mujhse na fero,
Aaajao is baar pyaar me kar le milkar k vaade sare poore,
Jo meri nasamjhi se abhi tak rah gaye adhoore,
Paas tum aa jao mere paas tum aa jao mere,
Ek tum hi to ** meri koi aur nahi kareeb shiva ek pyaar k tere.
I love u
May 11, 2019
May 11, 2019 at 7:43 AM UTC
People in the Bible worshipped idols time and time again.
They did it even though doing so was a terrible sin.
People once worshipped Baal, it was one of the idols.
People refused to worship God even though it was vital.
When God saw people worshipping idols, it really angered him.
They had to suffer the Lord's wrath when he punished them.
Some of those people's cities were destroyed and some became slaves.
Worshipping idols was a stupid and shameful way for them to behave.
Some people still have idols, one of which is movie stars.
Jehovah God is watching, he knows who these people are.
The Lord is the only one who people should idolize.
If you worship him, it is a decision that is very wise.
Jan 3, 2016
Jan 3, 2016 at 6:46 PM UTC
Even though false idols like Baal no longer exist, many people still idolize things today.
These people idolize money and *** when they should only idolize Jehovah God always.
God is offended when people idolize things other than him, it's something that he hates.
If you're such a person, you'd better change because it's something God won't tolerate.
God is the only one who should be idolized, not other wicked things.
People who idolize anything other than God had better watch out because disaster is what it will bring.
Mar 2, 2016
Mar 2, 2016 at 3:14 PM UTC
Loons in the vineyard – sound the alarm !
Satan is milking his metaphors.
Such silly music portends no harm;
call home the cows and open your doors.
Brian Hugh Warner, a paleface freak
after finding his mom’s mascara
darker enlightenment did seek
and crowned himself with Baal’s tiara.
Scary drag-queen, scandalous, vain
Marilyn – the creepy thespian
rolled that fish-eye and snorted *******
like Crowley… how pedestrian.
Flashing his glowing cataract,
he gave the mommies quite a fright.
Censorship launched; no badder act
did sail (or assail) our sinking night.
Gothic dim-wits purchased CD’s
bought the goods, pierced parts, wore black.
(Cause for certain parents’ unease:
MTV’s Antichrist on the attack).
Son of Man – or rather, Manson
Milked to the max his demonic cow;
playing Satan’s naughty grandson
showing the flustered milk-maids how.
Urban legend surrounds this fowl
(those ribs removed – like Adam’s sin!)
Is he a misunderstood night owl –
or a has-been loon in a loony bin?
Rock-stars age (well, most) like a cheap wine.
or else in the way once-ripened grapes
withering, sun-struck, off the vine
transform, with age, into wizened shapes.
No – I am wrong. They age like prunes;
plums thus pass into their glory.
Even Luciferian loons
find lakes of fire at end of story.
Sep 10, 2015
Sep 10, 2015 at 9:23 PM UTC
To the ancient Egyptians
hieroglyphics looked like
IMAX-HD blockbusters;
Renaissance art is so real
it's like the Holy Family's
really right in front of u!
gamers & pervs lose their
egos to avatars & **** -
the surplus visual culture
strikes future generations
like silent movies today;
commercials are empty &
expensive; drama, cliched
stereotypes for the money;
gone are the days of Baal
& Dionysus, & gone are the
ecstatic frenzies, gone are
realism & surrealism; space
is our new home, now forget
everything u've ever known
Jul 22, 2018
Jul 22, 2018 at 7:16 AM UTC
This is your reality, the brave new world;
i just hang out here:
birthed in the Cradle of Elam,
a mourning son of Baal,
smeared and anointed
with the oil from the
***** fingerprints of
countless scores of
sweaty neophytes;
carried, dropped, dented;
brought forth from eons passed,
updated for the 21st century,
gilded Krylon-gold.
This nebulous gift,
made tangible and
whole by blood,
a form fitting sacrifice,
transmogrified kudzu,
rootless, digging
talons' clutch into
our minds' construct,
seeks strength of
conviction, action.
Our ship is now
veering off course.
i must respond in kind.
i will not be led astray.
i will not have my good
intentions commandeered.
i will hijack your purpose,
screaming mutiny,
holding Occam's Razor-knife
to the throat of your jihads.
i issue a fatwa of peace,
as you once did,
before.
i renounce a kingdom of hate,
as you once did,
before.
i seek charity in effort,
as we once did,
before.
Let us rebuild.
Let us move forward.
***** a new Babel,
forsaking the sword.
Let our forks be on roads,
and not on our tongues;
a forging of union,
as we'd once begun:
My sisters, my brothers,
my family,
as one.
Oct 20, 2013
Oct 20, 2013 at 7:39 PM UTC
The Assyrian came down like the wolf on the fold,
And his cohorts were gleaming in purple and gold;
And the sheen of their spears was like stars on the sea,
When the blue wave rolls nightly on deep Galilee.
Like the leaves of the forest when summer is green,
That host with their banners at sunset were seen:
Like the leaves of the forest when autumn hath blown,
That host on the morrow lay withered and strown.
For the Angel of Death spread his wings on the blast,
And breathed in the face of the foe as he passed:
And the eyes of the sleepers waxed deadly and chill,
And their hearts but once heaved, and for ever grew still!
And there lay the steed with his nostrils all wide,
But through it there rolled not the breath of his pride:
And the foam of his gasping lay white on the turf,
And cold as the spray of the rock-beating surf.
And there lay the rider distorted and pale,
With the dew on his brow and the rust on his mail;
And the tents were all silent, the banners alone,
The lances unlifted, the trumpet unblown.
And the widows of Ashur are loud in their wail,
And the idols are broke in the temple of Baal;
And the might of the Gentile, unsmote by the sword,
Hath melted like snow in the glance of the Lord!
2.4k
This day your either caught up in Baal, Baphomet or Bethel.
Since I was a kid they was trying to trip me in a fairytale..
Dragons are Good and alittle magic won't ****
So far from the truth but some say who's gunna make these scars go away... Well tell me where did the scars come from?
Cause we know evil is bad and good is the truth!
If your caught in a lie dosent that mean that God told you?
Certainly not!
It came from baphomets mouth, so why are listening to liars mouth?
Dragons are real and so are unicorns
But dragons destroy and it takes a sword and one man to overcome him..
Maybe it's me?
Maybe it's you?
I just wanted to show you Baal is what we create for fantasies and selfish ways.
Baphomet is the Devil who lies right in your face.
Bethel is a holy place that keeps truth as it's king and good as it's God.
Wake up!!! For one day we will be on one side or the other...
It's hard to tell the truth and love someone who dosent know Good, but it's easy to fall and give up for a lie and at the end never notice that lies were getting life from you.
Forgive me.
Jun 20, 2014
Jun 20, 2014 at 11:08 AM UTC
Transported
by the waves of sound
so transcendentally human
I am swallowed, surrounded
The basses are an ocean swell
the tenors, a hull of solid oak.
We stand upon the altos’ sturdy deck,
gaze upwards at soprano sails
swollen with song
What strange creatures we,
to join and mingle so
to vanish in the whole.
This ritual enacted
for this God, or that
has outlived immortals and still
floods with lifeblood
Anu, Enlil, Enki, Baal,
dived divinely
in the sea of song
and vanished.
Forgotten gods adrift
in harmony, in melody
And while I wish
all gods forgotten
I would abase myself
before Jehovah’s golden toes
to be a part
of this eternal choir.
Dec 19, 2016
Dec 19, 2016 at 12:54 PM UTC
Baal was a phony god that was worshipped by many, including King Ahab and Jezebel.
Jehovah put it upon Elijah to prove to the people that he was the true God of Israel.
Satan created Baal to turn people away from Jehovah God.
It took Elijah to prove to the people that Baal was a fraud.
Elijah knew that he could show the people the truth and make Baal falter.
He told them to slaughter a bull and use it for a sacrifice on an altar.
Elijah told them that Baal would be the true God if he could burn the bull but no fire came.
But then Jehovah God sent down fire and burned the sacrifice and that put Baal to shame.
Even though Elijah had the wood and bull covered with water, both still burned.
The people saw that Jehovah is the true God, that was the lesson that they learned.
King Ahab and Queen Jezebel promoted Baal worship and it was something they came to regret.
Both of them ended up dead and God was pleased with Elijah who was the boldest of his prophets.
Mar 11, 2016
Mar 11, 2016 at 5:28 PM UTC
Come down, O Christ, and help me! reach Thy hand,
For I am drowning in a stormier sea
Than Simon on Thy lake of Galilee:
The wine of life is spilt upon the sand,
My heart is as some famine-murdered land
Whence all good things have perished utterly,
And well I know my soul in Hell must lie
If I this night before God’s throne should stand.
‘He sleeps perchance, or rideth to the chase,
Like Baal, when his prophets howled that name
From morn to noon on Carmel’s smitten height.’
Nay, peace, I shall behold, before the night,
The feet of brass, the robe more white than flame,
The wounded hands, the weary human face.
2k
7000
Israelites would not bow to Baal.
They served God.
Jul 7, 2015
Jul 7, 2015 at 7:38 PM UTC
i was living life on my knees when
I met JB, he was a song with a body part
in the title, a guardian, a saint, maybe a one-time
guitarist for Kiss.
(The last man to see Jesus, as far
as I am aware of, was the apostle John.
sometimes in his sleep he still whispered
“please don’t bury me, please
don’t bury me, please”.)
but JB had bowed to Baal, had kissed him,
bought a 20 dollar nosebleed from
a man with seven stars in his right hand,
a sharp thing in his mouth.
JB was not an apostle,
but he knew the knees of my heart,
gave his knees to the needy,
shoved soldiers, stared.
we spat in our gloves.
he said I have a swordfish mind,
but I have left 7,000 in Israel,
loved the oh of his mouth as the
stone rolled away, I have
met Jesus, face-to-face.
please don’t bury me.
these were the Great Days,
the First Aid: a myth that cost lives
taped us tight, and when he told me
that 150,000 people die in Britain every day
I said “instead, tilt your head forward,
pinch your nostrils shut and breathe with
your mouth; a half-sitting position with
your knees bent and head and shoulders.”
he did as I said and, later, John
put his **** in my mouth.
Reactive arthritis
affects the large joints, the knees,
causes pain, swelling,
an ectopic tongue on the floor
of the mouth.
Oct 27, 2014
Oct 27, 2014 at 11:41 AM UTC
They’d crashed the party at midnight
Surely, a motley looking crew,
All of them dressed in the weirdest best
That the Monster Shop could do,
There was Beelzebub, and Astaroth
And the pale Witch of the North,
Ahead of the Prince of Darkness in
A goats-head mask, of course.
They didn’t look out of place, for all
The guests were dressed to ****
One attired as a Fairy Queen
While others were dressed to chill,
Out of the mouth of Frankenstein
The blood poured in a stream,
And though it was only cochineal
It brought the odd party scream.
Most had thought it a great idea
(Except for her folks, who’d cursed),
They’d all dress up in the neighbourhood
For Emily’s twenty-first,
They’d even formed a committee so
They knew what they had to do,
And each would be wearing a different face
So there’d only be one, not two.
They studied the Ars Goetia
And scanned it for demon names,
The butcher had come as Malphas for
He only had brawn, not brains,
The newsagent was Vapula
And his errand boy was Baal,
While the postmaster was Sallos
And he came there, bearing mail.
They all were full of the grapes of wrath
As it chimed the midnight hour,
While Emily surged out like a goth
From the depths of her wardrobe bower,
The house, at 22 Rankine Street
In the ‘burb of Astral Downs,
Was built where an ancient charnel house
Had piled the bodies in mounds.
Her folks had put in a swimming pool
Where there’d been a village well,
Right on top of a demon school
In the seventh circle of hell,
The water began to heave and churn
As Beelzebub drew near,
And it cooked a few of the swimmers there
As their laughter turned to fear.
‘You thought that you could make fun of us,’
Said the Prince of Darkness then,
‘For that, we’re making you one of us,
You won’t bother us again!’
The ‘burb dropped into a bottomless pit
That glowed with the flames of hell,
‘A subterraneaun coal seam fire,’
Said the Fire Chief, Adam Schnell.
Emily’s parents came back home,
Sat in the car, and cried,
‘I told her that Goth stuff wasn’t good!’
‘Too late! Our Emily’s fried!’
They filled it in, there’s a parking lot
Where her parents had sat and cursed,
I’d like to bet, they’ll never forget
Their Emily’s Twenty-First!
David Lewis Paget
Jul 29, 2013
Jul 29, 2013 at 10:53 AM UTC
Wisdom has built her kingdom
She has set it on top of twelve pillars
All Killers
Who have ate the meat of the pigs and turned water into wine
And have invited Pharisees, adulterers, meth-heads; all combined.
Then Jesus said
"I'm pretty sure hominins are **** sapiens with back problems."
And they all laughed.
Socrates and Aristotle
Plato is undeniable
Something like eating food in the secret
Gloating on society like a stolen bullet.
"Are we right or are we right"
Or are we like Apollo
Who ride the muse and have love affairs with every girl in sight.
They have no shame at all
All them Freudians and the unconscious
Bearing information that is tied to foreigners
Who would steal and ******
Burn incense to Baal and other gods
Who misleadingly guide us like untamed dogs.
We have evolved
Brought the flies with us and turned them into stone
Patiently awaiting for the next evolution
Or a different revolution to tie us down
Like the gods we are not...
Jan 20, 2013
Jan 20, 2013 at 12:21 PM UTC
Je tremble des lèvres et des cils
Tout en moi se raidit, je bande
Je suis possédé
C'est Ma Phénicienne qui est à la manoeuvre
C'est ma diablesse qui se manifeste
C'est Jézabel, muse fatale, qui est à l'oeuvre
C'est l'esprit de Jézabel qui m'infeste.
Telle Anat, la Cananéenne, la Sanguine,
Ma prêtresse de Baal, ma Sidonienne
Se farde les paupières d'antimoine
Et se coiffe langoureusement postée à la fenêtre.
Ses yeux de gazelle me dictent les mots
D'une rare luxure
Que je dépèce comme une meute de chiennes lubriques
Ses lèvres entrouvertes dégoulinent
De mots adultères
Et la débauche s'empare de mon trône.
Et le désir me piétine de ses chevaux emballés.
Mais **** de m'apeurer à l 'approche du combat qui s'annonce
Je m'agenouille et je vénère ma guerrière,
Ma prophétesse, mon YHWH
Ma souveraine et seule voix sur terre
Vierge de toute armure ou parure,
Jézabel, mère d'Athalie,
Jézabel dont je suis l 'homme de paille,
Le prostitué rituel,
Le moine poète
Qu'elle a défenestré !
Aug 21, 2019
Aug 21, 2019 at 2:07 AM UTC
Celtic and warrior spirits reside amidst the undergrowth of our shallow and contemporary delusions.
So, let us take stalk of farmers’ fields where crop rotation is subject to the ritualistic attempts of the prophets of Baal.
There is something which is delectably acceptable about Jack the Ripper, where powdered noses spread their orifice of congestion across alleyways of Victorian London.
I love the smell of cobbled streets as they convey an aroma of coconut and damp resilience.
Let us not lament the death of sophistication where contemporary entrails spread their distance across the tank of customised motorcycles.
What are you lookin’ at?
Feb 26, 2014
Feb 26, 2014 at 12:25 AM UTC
The mailbox that bears my name was filled with notes from God's secretary,
each notarized with an antioxidary,
regretting to inform me
| a meeting cannot be yet arranged,
{that} the schedule will just not allow |
And as my eyes palavered with each and every flowing word,
{The clerk had impeccable penmanship}
the sorrow hit me like a God ****** hammer,
falling flaming from the gloomy clouds,
splitting my skull without a sound,
and if I could accurately express exasperated stammering,
my letters in return would be that-
So to temporarily occupy my infinite time,
dine do I, on plates of leaves, as the guest of hounds from Hell,
And O! they do not bellow but whimper quietly.
They softly said as I was fed to second-guess my piety,
but whether they meant to be so dour it was difficult to tell.
So as I ate my mind escaped and I fell and fell and fell
(not unlike a hop/skip/jump straight into a well.)
The hounds with zeal! they laughed at me
as I tumbled into darkness.
O! how lonely falling is, it can only end in pain.
As I swirled into the pit I see my past is feigned.
The darkness then began to waste away as light unfurled,
and fast and sure my flailings ceased, and I landed on my porch.
The force my feet had bent the boards and my mailbox erupted.
The letters God had sent to me fluttered coyly in the breeze.
I remembered how the lamb I had eaten was most oily,
and I vomited-
But all that came from my tired organs was the milk of human kindness.
I rose and stood la'statuesque,
frozen,
like a victim of a Gorgon-
My limbs then quit;
I acquiesced,
and fell again onto my porch.
I could hear the cackling that drifted from the matted muzzles of the hounds,
hiding in the shrubs nearby.
I tried to yell
but hounds from Hell
can only hear a lie;
I whispered, "Yes, I'm doing fine, I ask you, don't assist..."
The laughing stopped a'suddenly and silence took ahold.
I lied, I lied!
I lied as I were dead.
The hounds understood and turned to dust, vanished with the wind.
O! how lonely falling is, the landing ostracizes,
and there I sat, a porch pariah,
until the mailman returned with the sun,
bringing bills and notes from God,
and soon my mailbox will again be filled |
| And confound me like a divining rod in a boat
When everything points to true and right,
abandon do I all my hope |
Mar 27, 2010
Mar 27, 2010 at 12:54 PM UTC
Two whole chapters have been written, about a ***** so Great
The ***** of Babylon, and what shall be her fate
-
They are written in a Book, the writer was Saint John
The Author is the Lord, the ***** is Satan’s spawn
-
This all started at a tower, Babel is the name (note present tense)
She will be destroyed, with burning fire and flame
-
Baal is her god, Astaroth as well
This ***** and all her gods, are going to burn in Hell
-
Today she has a High Priest, he wears a special cap
He wears the hat of Dagon, the “faithful” to entrap
-
You can go and pray with him, beneath his Golden Dome
Go and kneel and pray, go to the city Rome
Dec 22, 2014
Dec 22, 2014 at 2:37 AM UTC
His chin dipped low, eyes lifted, hovering
Scoping me up and down
Perhaps sizing me
Measuring, maybe
I couldn't decide even if I wanted to
But that's the problem
In that moment when our eyes met
I couldn't think
I believed in matrimony,
I believed in the 3 fold cord
I could not imagine betrayal
Understanding was confusing at best
Like layer upon layer of searching thoughts
Thick with textures, lost in a maze of unending questions
Clouding my mind but not my memory
I remember truths while I cannot forget the lie
I never understood what was taking place
Love, lust, punishment, anger....... And for what?
For my honest heart? For obedience and submission?
For loving my husband?
I indulge now in scripture
I relish in my burning desire
A desire to expose your devilish deception
To expose you
Your evil lust
like the ****** of Baal
Treating someone like me as a temple harlot
disgusting as the Roman bathing pools
You are ungodly..
Dec 1, 2013
Dec 1, 2013 at 11:54 PM UTC
The winter here is proper,
not like the weak attempts
of childhood.
I put on one of my father's old records,
and sinkdrown
into the swirl
of old memories -
the scent of oil and wood
his workshop
the musicdrone of cicada's
(that signaled the arrival of hot summer sweat and slick)
the scent of musk mixed with coffee grinds
and bodyperfume made sick with wine.
Old roofs
in the distance -
redwashed and orange
by the blood of a dying sun,
trickle blue smoke
from the mouth of an ancient-
Baal of cold nights
Suburban Moloch.
Hands are turned palecold.
Dove's once ,
dexterous fish now -
white and roasting
on the hot whisper
from a cup of coffee,
sometimes they
(mechanically or artfully)
invoke the means
to my own blue trickle.
A time machine
to that junkyard of stolen moments
we christen "memory".
Yet the sun still bleeds
and the sky is cauterised
by it's sacrifice.
Jun 29, 2015
Jun 29, 2015 at 10:24 AM UTC
We make our own hell
Trying to sleep
I can hear the click click of demon claws
Terror
Seeing death moments away
Darkness begins to sway in
Hearing the whisper of beautiful maidens
As they entice me to the mouth of hell
The lick of crusted sulfur
Bellowing halls of flesh-scent smoke
The hollow of darkness
The squeeze of far off screams
I feel Baal wrap his claws about my ankle
The talons digging into my flesh
Like a dog I drool and scream-
Begging for respite
I was born and died a fighter
My naked feet kicking out at the face of embers
Searing my back against an obsidian boulder
My feet find weight against the razor sharp stones
I climb away from death
Crying out when her whip of flame
Opens up my back
The choking is all I know
The crying
The sorrow
I bolt upright in my bed
Covered in cold sweat
My sheets holding me tightly in the black
And I swear although I am all alone
I can hear my family down the hall laughing and talking
Jan 9, 2012
Jan 9, 2012 at 1:03 PM UTC
Atheists
Atheists who believe in evolution
Lying
For example, evolution
Stealing
Satan worship
Judas
For example, Darwin
My neighbor Will
Who manipulated me into bad Pokemon trades
Witchcraft, for example, Atheism
Women’s sexualized Halloween costumes
Sexualized women, for example bikinis
Prostitution
Cussing, which is prostitution of the spirit
*** with someone other than your spouse
*** before marriage
Pictures of ***
***
The word ****
The Ancient Greeks, who rejected Jesus
The Ancient Romans, who rejected Jesus
The Ancient Jews who rejected Jesus
(The **** Pharisees who rejected Jesus via ******
The Ancient Samaritans, who rejected Jesus
Except one; that guy’s all good
The Ancient Babylonians, who would’ve rejected Jesus
Marrying a non-Christian
Helping your Atheist spouse to cuss or ******
Divorce
Not forgiving someone
Gollum, for several reasons
Not praying
Praying to Mary
Praying to Allah
Praying to Baal
Child sacrifice
Saying “Just water please” but then getting pop
Bill Clinton, who did all that
Dec 12, 2018
Dec 12, 2018 at 4:26 PM UTC