"clergy" poems
"This is the day we've been waiting on. It's ok to be nervous but don't be scared. You are the sacred vessel" said the tall dark skin woman as she looked down into the eyes of the ten year old boy. Dressed in a red and black robe the ten year old boy says "I'm not afraid. I'm just ready to get this over with." "That's just what I wanted to hear Levi. It's time to get started. Please follow behind me" said the tall dark skin woman. "Yes mother" said Levi as he followed his mother out of his room. Leading Levi down a long hall that was illuminated with red light his mother says "When Priest summon the spirit Cruelty remember not to fight it. Just let it take over." "Ok" said Levi. When Levi and his mother entered the worship area Levi's mother had him stand in front of the altar and the clergy. "Thank you Harriet for escorting Levi to the altar" said a tall figure wearing a black hooded robe. "You're welcome Priest" said Harriet. Stepping down from the altar holding a baby creature in his right hand and a knife in his left hand Priest stood in front of Levi. Priest stabbed the baby creature in it's stomach and ripped it opened. He then dipped his finger in the baby creature's blood and anointed Levi's forehead with it's blood. "Bring me the Book of Sins" said Priest. Stepping down from the altar holding the Book of Sins a short figure wearing a black hooded robe brought Priest the Book of Sins. Turning to the chapter of Cruelty, Priest began reading. "As night blinds the sight of the male and the female and Hate stands on the grave of Love. Only then will evil reveal it self. Like Death stalking the living Cruelty will crush Kindness. I offer this vessel to the mistress Cruelty. Come forward I summon you Cruelty." When Priest finished reading from the Book of Sins the red lights that illuminated the compound began to flicker off and on. From out of no where a gust of wind began to circle around Levi. Slowly the wind began to transform into black smoke. Over taken with fear Levi was unable to move. Entering through Levi's gaping mouth the black smoke took possession of him. Shaking violently Levi fell to the floor. "Levi are you all right?" asked Priest. Standing to his feet and looking Priest in his face with eyes as black as death Levi says "The child is no longer in control." Walking up to Priest, Levi sticks his hand in Priest's stomach and pulls out his intestines. "LEVI YOU KILLED YOUR FATHER!" screamed Harriet as she ran over to the lifeless body of Priest. "I am Cruelty. Like I told the child's father Levi is no longer in control but for amusement everyone may still call me Levi" said Cruelty as she looked at Harriet. Pointing at the robed figures on the altar Cruelty tells them to get rid of Priest's dead body. "Yes Levi" said the robed figures.
Written by Keith Edward Baucum
Sep 29, 2015
Sep 29, 2015 at 10:33 AM UTC
Jesus runs in Everglades, Mohammed climbs the roof
The Angels stamp in anger as the Devil stands aloof,
A wandering Pope in la-la land while Jewish hands do writhe
Those apoplectic Muslims glare while Catholics pay the tithe.
Religion, girls, has hit the skids…the game is up on God
With rosaries rotating hard, theologians do nod,
While Mormons rant moronically with frankincense and myrrh
The irreligious bark and howl in Rastafarian fur.
Sectarian’s recant Sanctum’s Shrine the rite of soul is lost
As neophytes are dancing… the High Priest counts the cost,
Theocracy unbalances as Voodoo’s stamp the floor
And the Prophets throw their hands up, fast retreating for the door.
It’s transcendental disbelief that’s nailed it to the Cross
With the Priesthood chasing little boys all credence here is lost.
With sanctity’s monastic plunge the pagans roar and shout
As Shamans scream their incantations…God declares a route!
There is silence in the Temple now, stillness in the pews
As dust lies thick on altars, a nervous clergy holds reviews,
What, once, was good and vibrant here, is now as dead as dust
As the Blood Red Wine evaporates and Holy Bread…to crust.
Marshalg
Feeding the pigeons by the dusty, open door of the very, empty Chapel.
30 November 2013
Nov 29, 2013
Nov 29, 2013 at 2:55 PM UTC
I remember when MTV was in its prime,
A new voice to represent the new boom
Babies growing up since the 80s
Louder still through the troubling decades
(Maxed out credit no head room)
After —the punks in nirvana and rapping clergy
It was the only channel on
Youthful rebel yell —honest news
I remember it pretty well
Shaping us generation x y and Personal Jesus
New wave good bye to when
Childhood then without pain of malnourished
Africa or nukes threatening our
Cruel summers
Were we happier then?
So what happens to the music
Rockstars rip van wrinkle
Geriatric hall of fame
(No one lives forever
Reruns with the ****** & mr. Ed
Now that old neighbor’s dead)
Television
Nowadays
Seem more gangster
School shootings terrorists
On the train, kamikaze planes,
It’s all the same ole
Bling kablam oh bits
******* please
Redirecting our attention
To WMD
***
Where the hells are we?
I remember back then
On MTV —Nicki Minaj says
Between the hysterics of police brutality
She said Happiness is living your life
Without struggle,
That stuck with me
Because we all watch the tube
We all search for meaning
Sadly defining what happiness
May look like
Real World and paradoxical reality
TV
Para socially defunct
Clarity
Conditioned to continuously
Stay tuned
Brief message of empty
Hypnosis a pure form of business
Wall Street
Boulevard of broken dreams
I want my
Happy. What do I mean
To be?
Life ***** lately
The human condition
Talking too much
Refusing to see
No more talking heads too much
Bla bla ********
I want my
MTV . Happy .
My generation
We are the world
freedom And yes, Peace.
Man kindly as one
Symphony
And street, a melting ***
Of diversity
I remember the music
The future
I had hope to see
Behind the shades
Circa 80s 90s
(Fossils)
What time is it then?
When will we
Begin
Again
Don’t worry be happy
Run Forest run!
Jan 7, 2019
Jan 7, 2019 at 11:55 PM UTC
did you know
that the
self effulgent light
of God it self
is **** shaped
as above so below
the inner revelation
******* above...light woven
*** hole below ...flesh woven
does this not infer
a magical operation
perhaps a hermetic
ritual of adoration
perhaps a puja
to the ****
with ornate
kaleidoscopic mandalas
replete with wrinkles
and folds
emerald toilet bowls
silk *** wipe
with full color florals
to be ingratiated
by **** art prints
and to be fussed over
and judged
by certified *******
clergy
then to cleanse
with fragrant ointments
that it may remain
unsullied by its
birthing labors
voluptuous
smoldering
fecundations
for purities sake
as god remains
free of limitation
it too
must remain
free of its forgetful
tarnished children
i build temple of ****
high above the people
the little *****
do they
even know
where they come from
how they may
devote themselves
to the grandeur
of the solar ****
and its bestowals
of clumpy torpedoes
the catechism
of the solar ****
to know
to adore
to prostrate
to proselytize
the glory of ****
to the
for corners
of the earth
to be faithful
unto it
to be obedient
and present
your *******
for ritual manicures
by the true initiates
the fussy
******* faeries
those who have
the secret knowledge
and remain true
to the lore
and precepts
set forth
of divine correspondences
to fully appreciate
its eminence
its glory
and have no
God before it
that mercy
will follow them
all the days
of there lives*
Jul 16, 2016
Jul 16, 2016 at 8:35 PM UTC
Composed
wandering the Commons, quietly listening
to the sounds of Childish Gambino
Confused
Looking for the sixteenth time for
An escape from the Pru
Sipping a glass of Sam Adams Boston Brick Red
at a corner of WHISKEY'S on Boylston
Stopped in at Ben & Jerry's on Park:
Bought a cone of ™
Paid for it with
my Bank of America® VISA® P L A T I N U M P L U S ®
Checked in on foursquare and
read the protest tweets on
my verizonwireless® hTC® ThunderBolt™
with Google:
@OccupyWallSt
#NYPD collapses on #Sanctuary and begins arresting clergy and occupiers
inside. #D17 #Re-Occupy #OWS
\_Retweeted by Occupy Boston
@HoraceBoothroyd
@OccupyWallSt Links to sanctuary/clergy violations?
Erst I wandered the sights
and thought of thoughts
Tweeted a picture of the “pro-corporate” march
Pictured Headlines:
Area Cop Arrests Area Man for Obeying Traffic Signal
"Didn't anybody tell him that's not how its done round here?"
Cell of Young Idealists with ties to
Low-Level Terrorist Organization Busted & Detained:
Found Plotting the Grassroots, Digitized, Non-Violent Overthrow of the Status Quo
Op-ed:
City upon a Hill: “Whose city?! Whose hill?!”
#SOPA #NDAA
#OCCUPYBOSTON
~D.B. Guy, 12/17/11
Nov 3, 2012
Nov 3, 2012 at 3:35 AM UTC
Oh, the sensation, the media frenzy,
The spotlight, the fame, the hullabaloo,
When anti-evolution laws
Were challenged by the ACLU!
The year: 1925.
The place: Dayton, Tennessee.
To say it was an extravaganza
Wouldn't be hyperbole.
For many people it was hard
To find a way to reconcile
Biblical accounts with science,
So science found itself on trial.
A young teacher, John T. Scopes,
Was willing to face prosecution
For breaking a Tennessee law for having
Given a lesson on evolution.
The "Monkey Trial" it was called.
The challenge meant swimming upstream
For the feisty lawyer Clarence Darrow,
Who helped to lead the defense team.
A prosecutor was William Jennings
Bryan, who with no apology
Loved to stir up outrage against
Evolutionary biology.
Defendant Scopes quickly found
It wouldn't take long for him to know
What it was like to have a part
In a multimedia reality show.
The courthouse received a make-over:
Platforms for newsreel cameras were built;
Extra spectator seats were added.
They were playing the trial to the hilt.
Concession stands sold food and drinks;
Toy monkeys were on display;
A chimp was dressed in a suit and fedora;
The clergy also joined the fray.
The media and the public loved it!
The country watched the trial progress.
What would win: science or scripture?
The answer was probably easy to guess.
After an eight-day trial, the jury
Deliberated. Nine minutes later
They had their verdict: guilty! How
Could someone question THEIR creator?
Scopes had actually never given
The lesson. That's what he later said.
Strangely, five days after the trial,
Williams Jennings Bryan dropped dead.
Laws later changed, but even during
Current times, some people feel
That stories from the Bible should be
In science textbooks. Now THAT'S surreal!
-by Bob B (11-6-18)
Nov 6, 2018
Nov 6, 2018 at 9:00 AM UTC
She knows she’s in
the sepia photograph
but doesn’t remember why
or who the others are
or why she dressed
as she did back then
or why there was a dog there
at the front
she keeps the photograph
tucked between
the pages
of the black Bible
some clergy gave her
and a dark secret
she was forbidden to tell
and sometimes
that short woman
with the Mongolian features
steals it to gawk at
then she has to go get it back
sometimes violently
which brings the nurses running
with their rough hands
and strait jackets
or that skinny woman
who always stares
takes hold of it
and stares at it
pointing to the various faces
of the males and females
and at the dog
and smiles and wets herself
and then laughs loudly
which causes
the other inmates
to bellow or laugh
or cry or scream
bringing the nurses trotting
with their what’s going on?
or what’s all this then?
she holds the photograph
to her ***** when she can
or tries to remember
who they all are
staring back at her
including herself
and when the quacks
question her
about the photo
as to who is who
or why she has kept it
she doesn’t have a clue
and one said
she ought not to have it
as it disturbed her
but a nice nurse
(and there were some) said
o no doctor she needs that
there will be hell to pay
if she doesn’t have it
tucked between the pages
of the Good Book
she kisses herself some days
talks to one or two
of the others there
but who they were
or to whom she speaks
she doesn’t know
and on cold wintery days
she looks toward the sun
for a message
or a warming glow.
Feb 16, 2013
Feb 16, 2013 at 5:09 AM 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
Another year, another Paddies day,
Here in New York, hope for sun to play.
So the Irish celebration, takes winged flight,
Green is the color in everyone's sight.
Parade in the street, down fifth avenue.
The master of ceremony, we don't know who?
But the master this day, stands as St. Pat,
Clad in green, with a leprechaun's hat.
Hear the bagpipes, the drums pounding loud,
This is the Irish day, to stand and be proud!
A Catholic holiday, dietary sanctions they lift,
Eat meat and drink alcohol, is the Popes gift.
What are we celebrating? Let's take a closer look,
Power up the computer or crack open a book.
St. Patrick was born under English rule,
His family was clergy, formally educated in school.
Kidnapped by the Irish, and held as a slave,
To journey back to England he must be brave.
He returned one day to the Irish shore,
About the eternal Trinity, the Irish learned more.
A bishop now, native clove he did use,
To teach the Irish, about celestial clues.
About the father and son and the holy ghost,
The three leaves on a shamrock, they will forever toast!
The three leaves of a shamrock, and it's circular shape,
Are the same as God's Trinity, the logic you can't escape.
This is why the shamrock is so highly revered,
Wear one on your vest, or tucked into your beard.
Enjoy the day, celebrate with family and friend,
Toast to St. Patrick, may his legacy never end!
Visit poemsbypaul.com
Mar 13, 2013
Mar 13, 2013 at 12:56 AM UTC
God’s desire
Is no more
Than that of
A primate
The nature of
His call
Priesthood
The clergy
Is utterly
Cemented in place
And it claims
It is molding
I laugh at
This as I
briskly walk
on the sidewalk
I trip and
Nearly fall
I laugh
At that
too
Sep 12, 2010
Sep 12, 2010 at 4:52 PM UTC
Keep the youth medicated & sedated, then wonder why the literacy rate is doomed to decline. Birth us on a pedestal, then wonder why we have no incentive to climb. Build us from a violent genocide, then wonder why we've got guns pressed under our tongues. Kneel us before the clergy. Strangle us with your rosaries. Brand psalms into our wrists & make laws to control her ovaries. Value groupthink over independent thought & induce aversion to curiosity. Hang us between your revolving doors & shoot nationalism into our veins... Then wonder why we're so addicted to drowning our insides.
Apr 3, 2013
Apr 3, 2013 at 10:52 AM UTC
Men of Reason: bold, progressive
hammer wielders, depth resounders –
shout from the helm your Godless missive
as our Bible-lifeboat flounders.
Send that Flying Spaghetti Monster,
our imaginary friend,
to the myth-conception dumpster:
let the Bronze Age folktales end.
Make the idols bow to Science.
Your progressive task: to mock –
seek that end in brave defiance.
Down with the shepherd’s useless flock !
Laser-focused human reason
serves to clarify the matter,
strips the symbols from the season,
superstitious tales to shatter.
We, mere rubes in need of crutches,
simple children, willing tools –
must be rescued from the clutches
of the fables preached to fools.
Seamless garments, bushes burning:
are but schemes for fleecing sheep…
We are plebes devoid of learning;
rouse our silly souls from sleep!
Flood us with your noontide wisdom
decimate the weaker link.
Blow away our card-house kingdom
show us Christards how to think.
Then, like you, we shall no longer
cling to ignorance and lies.
Missing links make chains yet stronger,
dragging fairies from the skies.
We shall join you in assurance
that there is no great beyond
thus no need for fire insurance
clergy, staff or magic wand.
We shall celebrate together
joyful, freed from superstition
endless, godless sunny weather:
non-existent non-perdition.
Having thus improved the light
and magnified Man’s modern day,
God’s angels will expire in fright;
the Lord shall meekly fade away.
Sep 9, 2015
Sep 9, 2015 at 8:34 PM 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
Finger tips, so freshly pricked
The blood, drips so sweet
Dark red, falls and stained
The socks, covering my feet
Finger tips, covered in red
The blood, flows so fast
Dark red, stains the dead
My shirt, torn across my chest
The night has only begun
As the moonlight showers
So does my everlasting fun
Chaotic energy
Demonic Clergy
Sweet sun falls
While spirits rise
Dancing, prancing, gallivanting
Underneath the sweetness of a dark moon
Such a delectable array of freedom, yet it ends so soon
Sun rise, ruins our freedom
Tomorrows day, drags us back
A year, we wait bleeding
My chest, still dripping red
Sun rise, the end of holiday
Tomorrows day, I lay lifeless
A year, we repeat the ritual
My chest, healed by my king
Oct 31, 2018
Oct 31, 2018 at 2:19 PM UTC
You will not break my spirit burning bright,
turn my day to terror'd night
you will not break my cities tall and proud,
run my family underground
you will not break me!
you will not rob my leaders of their will,
clergy of their faith,
you will not peel stripes from my face
poke holes through my stars
you will not get away with this!
you will not turn my red, white and blue
into painful black and blue,
you will not break my children's acrid innocence,
my freedom to endure,
you will not take my mother and hold her hostage,
break my back first man, 'cause I'll seek justice
I'm an American!
My colors do not run,
I'm black, white, brown, yellow and tan
I'm an American!
You broke into family's home
killed brothers and sisters
one day I will get you
because I'm an American!
and
you will not break me,
you will not break me,
you will not break the hope in my child's eyes
peace will prevail to your surprise,
love is strength in numbers,
your will is bound by hatred
America slumbers no more,
the giant has awaken and
years of complacent, fat-cat politics
is now down to ***** out heretics
I got *****
I got *****
I got ***** swinging from the hips of
Crazy Horse and Sitting Bull
ready to bounce you out of your holes!
I got soul,
I got soul
I got soul like no others got soul,
got soul like Tina Turner, James Brown,
Ella Fitzgerald and the New York City Fire Department
I'm an American!
I got heart,
I got heart like no others got heart
I got heart like the Tin Man found
I got heart like Tony Bennett, George Foreman,
Marlon Brando, Jesse Owens, BB King, John Belushi
Johnny Franco and the Miracle Mets!
I'm an American!
I'm an American!
and
you will not break me
you will not break me
you will not break me!
Frank Messina. 9/11/2016.
Sep 11, 2016
Sep 11, 2016 at 12:44 PM UTC
I once ruled a small kingdom…
I was lord; and I was free.
But as I looked out over the land
From atop my royal throne
I saw no nobles, no knights,
No clergy, no servants…
I had, finally, risen to power,
But now everyone was gone –
Mysteriously vanished,
As the children of Hamelin.
So, there I was, alone;
And the silence haunted me…
.
Jan 28, 2019
Jan 28, 2019 at 12:25 PM UTC
Sometimes my identity,
Feels like my enemy,
A charred carcass of the artist with Bohemian symmetry,
It feels like my brain leaks from my ears,
When anxiety has poked holes,
My nauseous kicks gears,
But in the sky,
I study these black helicopters circling ,
A merchant clergy demigod machine that can grant me serendipity,
Am I that peanut gallery displaying a wickedness grimace?
At the show where the iceberg never sunk relationships?
I'm just poorly cataloged,
And I'm here with a lion in Oz curse,
Dispersed into realms where courage is brought in a hearse,
Now let me wish these helicopters,
Were an implied gesture,
Mankind and nature divorced in court,
That's why I'm messed up,
So to the wings of machine mystique please come true,
I am desolated greatness on the apocalyptic ground below you,
Mar 31, 2015
Mar 31, 2015 at 7:00 PM UTC
Ornamental graves set like feasts
for unfaithful lovers,
the broke marrow of virtuous phantasms,
now swaddled rapture
chanted as basilisk verses.
Scarred Alice wraps it around
torn limbs--
festering gauze--the cynical made anew.
"Creation moves," the gluttonous moper speaks again,
"to erase itself."
Alice's children blasts
the afterlife caboose
to the front of the freight
--saeculum saeculorum--
"Wake again and again
without ghosts and wrath,
dear children." The wind whispers their souls
back to her--"the molding of men
and women attend to sponge the graves dry."
They will raise themselves
--chanting the basilisk verses,
mother Alice
departs her children twice
to the corridors of rose fields
in her naked cloud.
"Come back, dear mother...."
"Come back, dear mother..."
they chant,
"Your salted epitaph
still lingers in our throats."
Not fit there
or here.
Nowhere, Miss, nowhere--
Sin is the party
that doesn't die
and neither does the health
of lyrical sand.
--Floaters like discontent
Alice,
recreate the world,
--our world with
pastels and finger-paints
doodles on Arlington headstones
--messages for our ear bones
--disasters on eleven
turning stones roll over--tortoises play dead
but whisper,
"Clergy cerebral
won't wisp away
beds of jewels.
I pity people who think
themselves powerful.
"Frost-bit devices dilate
like the hands of a watch
tearing time apart with
rusty blades.
"Counting fingers--useless freedom
--bothersome slavery."
Alice knows what the basilisk knows,
we would sacrifice
the only righteous heart in *****
& Gomorrah
to save
&n
Feb 27, 2013
Feb 27, 2013 at 9:22 PM UTC
Let me introduce the royal players:
Everyone wants to corner the King
He may be Lord of the board
But he's the most powerless thing!
His lady has to defend her man
He's pretty much a sitting duck
And not one to take command!
The other pieces....what will be their fate?
They exist to save the wimpy monarch
All the wrong moves...Checkmate!
Manning the front row are the peons, the pawns
Lucky to make it across to promote their rank
Like helpless turtles, they inch forward on
The Bishops, like royal clergy in robes of red
Diagonal in direction, they stride and they glide
Moving this way..and that way...behind or ahead
Shapely horse heads, the gallant Knights
In L - shaped ways, they gallop in battle
Noble beasts who prove their might!
Set upon the four corners are the Rooks
Castles, they have straight-line tactics,
Advancing away from their nooks
Oh, the lovely, noble Queen, not forsaken!
She rules! Nearly limitless, so watch out!
Yet if not careful, even she can be taken!
If Her Majesty is captured...you've lost the very best!
You might as well admit your defeat
You, who play this game called Chess
Let the games begin!
Aug 19, 2010
Aug 19, 2010 at 6:04 PM UTC
in italy, there were fascinating times while reminiscing about how mesmerizing the feminine foreign specimen populace.
gazing at feminine foreign beauties i saw while staring at the multitudes beyond them made me know they were a perfect ace.
a monastery would educate me in the clergy as i walked up steps, my firm grip ceased to coexist with my ecclesiastical tomes and they went off steps that were steep.
a foreign gentle *** appears out at the corner of my eye behind a ruined wall, and for a minute, she bit her index finger nail in accordance with her beautiful white teeth.
as soon as her eyes connect with my eyes, i knew there was a visual connection going on between us two; the attention to details, the physical aspect of ****** human interest.
we continued to look at each other for over an hour and i had such an attraction to this young tan brunette, brown-eyed foreigner who had a t-shirt logo of a moon crest.
Jun 16, 2014
Jun 16, 2014 at 6:10 AM UTC
In the darkest of our valleys
By dark angels demented,
‘Twas once a regal temple -
Serene spring - tauntingly tormented.
A Queen in her Domain,
It stood there!
Under Lock and Chain;
A maiden so fair!
Lavender curtains laden;
On this Temple may flow
Along the Times of this Maiden -
In the ****** snow.
And every gentle air in that field,
Of Doomsday,
From the Black Rose’s shield -
Their aroma passed away.
Witnessing this Ominous blolly;
Through luminous windows -
Spirits sing in melancholy,
In the malicious meadows.
Upon this throne I bore;
A tintinnabulation of air -
Befitting glory’s chore,
Of this realm’s affair.
With many a jewel gleaming,
Against the Temple door -
The River’s light came beaming,
Sparkling for evermore.
A troop of Angels; on their duty,
At my doorbell, sing -
For the Silent beauty,
Who burdens the King.
Then, the Reaper came,
Along the Temple’s River -
For the distressed dame;
And the sorrows within her quiver.
Above this temple of glory,
Sagacious scenes bloomed -
Of the maiden’s story,
The clergy that loomed.
Now; Within that valley -
Through the reddened windows see,
Figures dancing delicately;
To her disbanded melody.
The river - now a pale white,
Is her decor,
Night’s sweetest silent fright -
And flows - Nevermore.
Dec 14, 2015
Dec 14, 2015 at 4:13 PM UTC
I grew up on heroes old and new
Thinking there was no wrong they could do
But get rid of rose glasses and they're the worst
And I woke up to a clergy that turned. out to be cursed
Now I can't trust people I see
On the internet or TV
Because half of my childhood celebrities
Turned out to be pedos, grifters, and Nazis
Some times you have to let your heroes die
Give a wave and a nod goodbye
Send them off with a middle finger up
And hope next time you have better luck
Can't trust the storytellers that made your fantasies
They want you and queers like you deceased
Can't play pretend in a superheroes game
When all the directors fund your personal bane
I wouldn't trust the beliefs that raised me
Because I've grown old enough to peek and see
That its foundations are corrupted by empire
One more genocide and I'll set the **** pulpit on fire
Some times you have to let your heroes die
Give a wave and a nod goodbye
Push them away from who you see
And rethink all those memories
I once trusted some political heads
Thinking they had good interests in their stead
But red or blue they all bomb and starve and censor
Now I have to try to get my own beliefs and center
I blindly trusted the medical process
Until I saw prejudice and the reproducibility crisis
I blindly followed the worship of success and riches
Until I saw the dead that world left in the ditches
Some times you have to let your heroes die
Give a wave and a nod goodbye
Shoot them yourself if that's what you need
Because how else can you move on and succeed
History was taught to me in one way
Every account matching up to the day
But I looked back and saw a library
Of stories the classroom never did see
The people who raised me said they were saints
And that's the picture their friends all paint
But get home at night and you'll find out
What the kids don't know to talk about
Some times you have to let your heroes die
Give a wave and a nod goodbye
Never look back for a second glance
Don't give the ******* another chance
Some times you have to let your heroes die
Give a wave and a nod goodbye
Because if power corrupts and they're infested
Don't reminisce long enough to get invested
Some times you have to let your heroes die
Give a wave and a nod goodbye
Throw down your celebrities and your idols
Be your own hero and disregard titles
Dec 2, 2020
Dec 2, 2020 at 10:45 PM UTC
"This is the day we've been waiting on. It's ok to be nervous but don't be scared. You are the sacred vessel" said the tall dark skinned woman as she looked down into the eyes of the ten year old boy.
Dressed in a red and black robe the ten year old boy said "I'm not afraid. I'm just ready to get this over with."
"That's just what I wanted to hear Levi. It's time to get started. Please follow behind me" said the tall dark skinned woman.
"Yes mother" said Levi as he followed his mother out of his room.
Leading Levi down a long hall that was illuminated with red light his mother said
"When Priest summons the spirit Evil remember not to fight it. Just let it take over."
"Ok" said Levi. When Levi and his mother entered the worship area Levi's mother had him stand in front of the altar and the clergy.
"Thank you Harriet for escorting Levi to the altar" said a tall figure wearing a black hooded robe.
"You're welcome Priest" said Harriet.
Holding a baby creature in his right hand and a knife in his left hand Priest stepped down from the altar and stood in front of Levi. Priest stabbed the baby creature in its stomach and ripped it opened. He dipped his finger in the baby creature's blood and anointed Levi's forehead with its blood.
"Bring me the Book of Evil" said Priest.
A short figure wearing a black hooded robe stepped down from the altar and brought Priest the Book of Evil. Priest turned to the chapter Evil and began reading.
"As the night blinds the sight of the male and female and Death stalks the living and Hate stands on the grave of Love. Only then will evil reveal itself. I offer this vessle to the spirit Evil. Come forward Evil I summon you."
When Priest finished reading from the Book of Evil the red lights that illuminated the compound began to flicker off and on. From out of no where a gust of wind began to circle around Levi. Slowly the wind transformed into black smoke.
Over taken with fear Levi was unable to move. The black smoke entered through Levi's gaping mouth and took possession of him. Shaking violently Levi fell to the floor.
"Levi are you all right?" asked Priest.
Levi stood to his feet and looked Priest in his face with eyes as black as death. "The child is no longer in control" said Evil.
Evil walked up to Priest stuck his hand in Priest stomach and pulled out his intestines.
"LEVI YOU KILLED YOU'RE FATHER!" screamed Harriet as she ran over to the lifeless body of Priest. "I am Evil. Like I told the child's father Levi is no longer in control but for amusement everyone may still call me Levi" said Evil as he looked down at Harriet.
Evil pointed at the figures on the altar and told them to get rid of Priest's dead body.
"Yes Levi" said the robed figures.
Written by Keith Edward Baucum
May 30, 2016
May 30, 2016 at 11:20 PM UTC
Uncle Sam reclines and unwinds
In his Adirondack chair
The Statue of Liberty reminds the Mater at Arms
Of the time when he was put in a peyote trance
It was only then he caught on
He rammed his head against his headboard every night
Wracking your brain, trying to wrap it around the concept of the excommunication of those who have had their mouths washed out with soap
There will be no fanfare for the stray lambs
They are only meal tickets for the clergy
Concord grapes and word of mouth
Raise the question, "what is in a hot dog?"
Don't latch on to me after I dance with you into mad denial under a brass florescent chandelier in front of all the stock brokers and shareholders
I'll dismantle your silver lining with a spork
The cow pies disappear due to erosion
It's good to see you, I didn't know burlap sacks were all the rage right now
Stencil your name on it for good measure
How do you feel after your ego death?
Jul 4, 2014
Jul 4, 2014 at 9:16 PM UTC
they abused the children
in a multitude of ways
they weren't following
the good Lord's way
they fondled the innocent children inappropriately
they made them perform acts which did demean
they slapped the little children for the sake of it
they enjoyed every pleasurable bit
stories of the wicked clergy are coming to light
the public are seeing them in a new light
what they've done to the children has been hushed up
by the Bishops and Cardinals those men high up
the vestments of the Lord
which the men of God wear
they have a stained past
which is now getting aired
Apr 28, 2013
Apr 28, 2013 at 9:18 PM UTC