Oh beautiful for specious lies
where Christless values reign;
for superficial battle cries
above the muted strain:
Diversity, diversity
God hides His face from thee—
and frown he should, while planethood
distracts humanity.

How sad it is when victim groups
monopolize the floor;
enabling the marginals
to agitate for more.
Diversity, diversity,
Your queer agenda rules—
with Balkanizing tendencies
imposed on witless tools.

Degenerate in decadence
the ailing eagle flies;
in spirals of irrelevance
through clouded toxic skies…
Diversity, diversity
the Left defines your terms;
the weakened body politic
grows sicker as it squirms.

Oh Lord we need a miracle
before the patient fails;
celestial intervention please
to purge us of what ails.
Diversity, diversity
We shall not overcome—
Unless the Lord reveal His word
twixt here and Kingdom Come…

Lights are twinkling,
My eyes are blinking,
Bulbous deer are shaking.
Across the street
Bloated Santa Claus
Rocks to the season's flaws.
It's Christless time again.

The trees are hewn,
Stores are spewing
Free wrapping,
Ribbons and bows.
Wreaths are hung,
Good tiding flung,
Frosty's song is sung.
It's Christless time again.

We've planted seed
That feeds the greed
In the old and young.
We know the songs
That should be sung
To vanquish mammon.
But it's Christless time again.

Still, on that Eve
Gift reprieve
With a silent, Holy Night.
Hear the bells
From distant years,
Before the yule log light.
It's Christmas time again.

An old, mad, blind, despised, and dying king,—
Princes, the dregs of their dull race, who
Through public scorn,—mud from a muddy spring,—
Rulers who neither see, nor feel, nor know,
But leech-like to their fainting country cling,
Till they drop, blind in blood, without a blow,—
A people starved and stabbed in the untilled field,—
An army, which liberticide and prey
Makes as a two-edged sword to all who wield,—
Golden and sanguine laws which tempt and slay;
Religion Christless, Godless—a book sealed;
A Senate, Time’s worst statute unrepealed,—
Are graves, from which a glorious Phantom may
Burst, to illumine our tempestuous day.

An old, mad, blind, despised, and dying king, –
Princes, the dregs of their dull race, who flow
Through public scorn, – mud from a muddy spring, –
Rulers who neither see, nor feel, nor know,

But leech-like to their fainting country cling,
Till they drop, blind in blood, without a blow, –
A people starved and stabbed in the untilled field, –
An army, which liberticide and prey

Makes as a two-edged sword to all who wield, –
Golden and sanguine laws which tempt and slay;
Religion Christless, Godless – a book sealed;

A Senate, – Time’s worst statute unrepealed, –
Are graves, from which a glorious Phantom may
Burst, to illumine our tempestous day.

Another day another crisis
In this world that feels Christless
Full of lives that must be priceless
As they spill out on the concrete
New disaster, a new hurricane
Mass shooting, new Garner, new Freddie Grey
The patriots pledge and turn away
As their own cry, "I can't breathe."

This, our land of the free
Bound by our own iniquity
Where are the hands, where are the feet
Is the church not called to more?
In her mass modern transgression
God's command we made suggestion
That we run towards oppression
And unlock the captive' s door.

Will the Church choose to stand tall
For every  victim of the fall
Show binding love and light to all
And act upon our creed
Or will we simply hide behind
Our pristine pulpits and our pride 
While those for whom Christ Jesus died
We blindly leave to bleed?

|b.g.|

Loved with everlasting love,
Led  by grace that love to know,
Spirit breathing from above,
Thou hast taught me it is so,
Oh , this full and perfect peace !
Oh, this transport all divine !
In a love which cannot cease,
I am His , and He is mine.

In a love which cannot cease ,
I am His, and He is mine.

Heaven above is softer blue,
Earth around is sweeter green!
Something lives in every hue,
Christless eyes have never seen;
Birds with gladder songs o'erflow,
Flowers with deeper beauties shine,
Since I know , as now I know,
I am His , and He is mine.

Since I know , as now I know,
I am His, and He is mine.

Things that  once were wild alarms
Cannot now disturb my rest;
Closed in everlasting arms,
Pillowed on the loving breast,
Oh, to  lie for ever here;
Doubt and care and self resign,
While He whispers in my ear--
I am His , and He is mine!

While  He whispers in my ear --
I am His and He is mine!

His for ever, only His;
Who the Lord and me shall part?
Ah! with what a rest of bliss
Christ can fill the loving heart!
Heaven and earth may fade and flee,
First born light in gloom decline  !
But , while God and I shall be,
I am His and He is mine.

But while God and I shall be,
I am His, and He is mine?

Behold your public funds at work:
Trash-strewn gutters, loitering thugs;
Sidewalk dancers start to twerk
While tattooed clowns deal circus drugs.

Social workers check the pulse
In clouds of menace: sick-sweet smoke.
The cities brain and guts convulse:
Mad laughter for an absent joke.

Such Godless faces, Christless souls
Whose gazes show malign defeat
Evoke dysfunction. On it rolls:
A harsh, reptilian urban beat.

The ghosts of absent fathers fade
In methadone . . . the guttural yells
Infect the *****-reeking shade
Of demons bound in welfare hells.

America—reduced to this.
Fragmented, begging for repair.
A vicious and unkind abyss
Beyond all hope and all despair.

I want to flee such streets of noise
Where fate is read in scraps of trash
When sirens urge the circus boys
To pocket their illicit cash.

Everybody's living in the fast life trying to afford a Lamborghini
But none of them know about sacrifice because these lambs be greedy
All of them wanna be speedy but their logic exceeds me
And I cannot fathom, just getting mental spasms, thinking of God saying "Look how they treat me"
They look for something easy and affordable so they spend their money on a Prius
And the vehicle is so important to them they can't even spend a second with Jesus
Getting so comfortable in their Toyota they toy over His word and its absurd that these are the same people who call themselves believers
And its grievous, because the whole world is going down the drain
Just shifting into the fifth gear and switching over to the widest lane
Ignoring all the stop signs, and running all the red lights like it was a videogame
Everyone is just so fast and furious with the need for speed with devil behind them in a hot pursuit yet no one's ashamed
See while everyone else drive's like their above everything like their on Saturn's rings I drive like a BMW
And that stands for a Blessed Man Working in faith because when you close your eyes and let Jesus take the wheel the devil can never trouble you
So can you even imagine that there's a Father who stopped you from going off course and Ramming into wall
A Father who helped you Dodge every obstacle, a Father who stands above all
A Father who decorated your interior and only ask for you to come forth and answer His call
A Father you overlooked and tossed aside yet He still picks you up even when you fall
See, we're too ungrateful to understand how privileged we are, but only realize when it's all gone
Do you want to be the Paul who was a slave to Christ or the Paul who crashed and couldn't carry on?
We ask everybody for directions, pull out the gps and forget that He never showed us wrong
God already laid out the track for us, but we freeze like Ice Cubes because we don't have the Hart to Ride Along
See I rather drive a Chrysler in this crisis to seek out the Christless
Now I didn't say ride in a sleigh to see if I'm on Santa's naughty or nice list
Because there's only one with undying love who presented me with the greatest gift
And no one can ever amount to my God who sugar coats nothing and keeps it all explicit
We were meant to love our brothers and sisters the same way we love ourselves right?
So why do we contemplate offering a ride even when our tanks are low? I thought we were supposed to walk by faith not by sight?
Of course we're going to experience a lot of bumps along the way and a few potholes amidst the asphalt
No one ever said this journey was easy, peasy or lemon squeezy, yet we still choose this road and when things get tough say it's God's fault
We move too fast, go past the speed limit, order a recipe for disaster without looking at the cons, and even swallow before we chew
We spend our last, even though we need gas and stuff our faces in sin just to make ourselves look the fool
We pile our plates up high thinking we can stomach everything and even try to consume the forbidden fruit
We need to watch our diets and what we allow to enter our bodies because our body's a temple more precious than a jewel
So many search for soul food others eat Little Caesar's
Not realizing that it was the romans who wanted Barabas over Jesus
And that conundrum was a two piece combo that was able to shake up the whole world
It was like watching the toters coming to the party and wrapping up all your food in ferl
This fast food has us all lost in the flesh all dying because of our fast livin
Eating from the Burger King when it's really the bread of life that has risen that we were given
To feast upon, because this Holy Communion was blood shed and a body broken for us all to live
He was able to feed the five thousand so we should have nothing short of our lives to give
This fast life will **** us all if we don't repent
Time spent feasting with the devil isn't time well spent

Forlorn bells
of a christless church;
dangling children
of Mary's scorn.

The Raven's crying,
lustful tears of longing;
a longing of thriving,
of presence and life.

Hanging, ghastly brown little men;
in wait of her Mother, offering a hug.
She must be smart, for she cannot decide
which of her children should she leave behind.

The Raven's wings,
filled with missing and hope,
spread and offer, like those little men beneath it,
a motherly tribute
to care and protection.

The Mother, however,
of her many children knows she not;
she, then, indifferently leaves
onward to paradise,
a six-feet paradise!

I've been crying my eyes shut,
i could barely see the world,
-failing to see myself in a mirror
reflecting on how my fragile state is
made of glass.

I tried to be ahead of myself,
but wasn't on top of a lot of things,
so i behead myself, just to cut off old thoughts
and i could have sold my soul, but i tend to
sell myself short; as i can no longer pour
out my feelings,- i guess i'm too poor.

I hope I at least pass through people's thoughts,
but i know i'm a bit too passive, and make
passes on all of my best quotes
and i'm always stuck in one particular
moment,  like an old photo.

I tried to sleep with my thoughts,
but i've got a restless kind of mind
waking up to the days, of another sleepless night
nowadays when i pray less, cry less
and don't seem to care about my midlife faith crisis
when i'm doing things that make me seem Christless
still i wouldn't advise this.

I know my attitude don't always match
my soul's latitude; especially when
everything in my life goes south
as the magnitude of my worth, puts me
in a foul mood,- i played a foul move
flying my cold heart away from winter,
but still had a fowl kind of love.

I haven't been to church in a while,
telling myself, "I'll be there Sunday"
But I misheard myself, he was really
saying, "someday, someday"
Work always calls me in, before Mondays,
and Mondays are so mundane
every feels the same, the same; please can
i feel something, something, someday.