"mammon" poems
Revelations of the heart
regarding how one's money is spent
echoes volumes about character
and our God-given talents.
For Jehovah is far from being poor;
He owns the cattle on a thousand hills.
He's not into ungodly extortion
to keep you from paying your bills.
By serving two masters,
one will be dearly loved - the other sorely hated;
so one can never be truly happy
until settling the God and Mammon debate.
The wealth of God lies in His Word.
His principle of tithing is a mechanism
to pour out financial blessings upon us.
Therefore, purge your mindset of secularism.
Jehovah desires our faithfulness
to fulfill our ministry to the Earth.
We won't be judged on our daily income -
Know that money can never define... Our true worth.
Author Notes:
FYI - Mammon is the church term for the "God of money".
Learn more about me and my poetry at:
http://www.squidoo.com/book-isbn-1419650513/
Apr 13, 2012
Apr 13, 2012 at 9:27 AM UTC
Luxuria (Lust)
Asmodeus demon of lust
carnal manipulator
****** captor
Castitas (Chastity)
Embracing virtue
honorable wholesomeness
not through one’s weakness
Gula (Gluttony)
The egocentricity
with which the Lord of the flies
upon us relies
Temperantia (Temperance)
practicing restraint
prudence to judge with regard
remaining on guard
Avaritia (Greed)
The Mammon demon
controlling the warmonger
with vows of power.
Caritas (Charity)
Crave unselfishness
give unreserved empathy
love and sympathy
Acedia (Sloth)
Deny grace and God
so evil shall become fact
when we fail to act
Industria (Diligence)
Fortitude is a must
persistence in conviction
zealous for passion
Ira (Wrath)
In its purest form
presents violence and hate
Satan’s fate
Patientia (Patience)
mercy to haters
receiving the grace to forgive
rewards are massive
Superbia (Pride)
Lucifer’s downfall
for excessive vanity
destroys humility
Humanitas (Kindness)
Sympathy without bias
belief without bitterness
inspire kindness
Invidia (Envy)
resentful passion
an insatiable desire
potent cause of dire
Humilitas (Humility)
think of yourself less
and not think less of yourself
don’t exalt oneself
Apr 6, 2013
Apr 6, 2013 at 3:36 AM UTC
Revelations of the heart
regarding how one's money is spent
echoes volumes about character
and our God-given talents.
For Jehovah is far from being poor;
He owns the cattle on a thousand hills.
He's not into ungodly extortion
to keep you from paying your bills.
By serving two masters,
one will be dearly loved - the other sorely hated;
so one can never be truly happy
until settling the God and Mammon debate.
The wealth of God lies in His Word.
His principle of tithing is a mechanism
to pour out financial blessings upon us.
Therefore, purge your mindset of secularism.
Jehovah desires our faithfulness
to fulfill our ministry to the Earth.
We won't be judged on our daily income -
Know that money can never define... Our true worth.
Author Notes:
FYI - Mammon is the church term for the "God of money".
Learn more about me and my poetry at:
http://www.squidoo.com/book-isbn-1419650513/
Jun 28, 2012
Jun 28, 2012 at 5:07 PM UTC
Day and night vie for each other
now, but the darker is winning;
The moon mourns in her ruddy veil:
tonight, the garden's wet by tears.
Incredible, the attraction,
of carbon for carbon.
Even more, the attraction
of carbon for gold.
In the wild, they rarely bond.
But in man, inseparable.
Carbon and mammon: be not yoked,
says the jewel diamond of our race.
Who cares? The cross,
an adornment nice.
Mammon in mud? Silicon
too, says the IT guy.
Fullerenes in the sky: on this
Guy Fawkes night, sparks truly fly.
Carbon will **** for gold.
This the oldest maxim of old.
Nov 21, 2013
Nov 21, 2013 at 2:42 PM UTC
14th Feb 2014
They are all around us,
within, without, above, behind and before us;
Fanning the flames of the famous, the wealthy and fortunate
with secret agendas and infamous fame of their own.
I throw a stone
send it crashing through houses of glass; I see their
comings and goings in the Grove of Bohemia;
drinkers and liars; role-playing fraternity fools.
There are rules.
It takes more than just peeing at trees to be properly manly;
secrecy more than life is at stake when the fodder is human,
throw off your cares to the punitive furnace of hate.
Such ill-fate
that begets our world leaders, hatched out of a tangible darkness;
parasitic, calamitous, venomous world-gobbling evil
Mammon, devourer of souls, will preside at the feast.
And the Beast,
Fourth Beast of Daniel, squats at the head of the table,
fabled for pitiless torture of souls in transgression,
slavers and gloats over innocence lost and despoiled.
Feb 14, 2014
Feb 14, 2014 at 11:07 AM UTC
$ $ $
Because I hate money
as money hates me,
I will out-live my debt
and be buried for free.
My gravest desire:
die poor, with no coffin,
that Death may unharden
what Life could not soften.
Because money hates me
I sometimes hate God,
(though I never served Mammon)
so SHOVEL, you clod,
while I speak from the grave;
a cadaver with class:
come strew a few flowers
and cover my ***
(Or cover my assets
financially
so my corpse doesn’t lie
like a liability.)
Because money hates me
I’ll leave it to you
to savor my point of
funereal view.
Sep 17, 2015
Sep 17, 2015 at 10:30 PM UTC
O Babylon! Your God is a sport-utility vehicle, a VCR, and a two-car garage!
You delight in images of killing and artificially-large-breasted women!
Your arteries are clogged with Big Macs and a thousand pieces of Kentucky-Fried Chicken!
Your God is Technology. Your God is Progress.
Your skyscrapers rise to the heavens! Your astronauts fly to the moon!
You clone sheep! alter genes! make a mountain into a parking lot!
Your fields flower! Your grain-bins groan under the weight of the ripe corn!
But the land of your soul is a desolation.
O God of Henry Ford, the Wright Brothers, and Bill Gates,...
All the nations adore Thee!
(Pretty soon they'll be ordering Papa John pizza by cell phone in New Guinea....)
Your God is Mammon.
After the movies, after the Quarter-pounders-with-cheese, super-size fries, and a large Coke,
after the evening news, the Hostess cupcakes, golf, beers, and swimming 20 laps,
the hunger will be the same as the day you first felt it, O Babylon!
the thirst of the soul, O Babylon!
Aug 1, 2017
Aug 1, 2017 at 2:24 PM UTC
2019
was
the
year
I was
to do
more
only
to
find
I
should
do
less
One month in
I sent January flowers on the third day
without even telling him.
He needed it after that last week.
White roses.
To creep out the dead
and question the living stuck inches deep under water.
Thursdays were mine.
Everyone of them,
forever.
Fridays,
I fried colons in grease and became an adult
when I was thrilled to be greeted by the polished grill
adjacent to its elder and a former twin.
I became closer to gambling and God.
Or Mammon?
I am all of theirs at this time
and boy,
does it literally say I am not to love both.
Or all.
Also; January you child.
I know you were angry when you had to leave.
Three days cooped wasn't going to pluck a Buffalo.
All of those times you got away with building walls for fists.
Just target practice and misses every time.
Cut yourself shaving and cry for a month.
I don't shame you,
this is your voice,
only you spoke this long while
I let you ignore the roads of the west side for generations
and complain from the heated indoors of mine.
Staring at a bus stop
I'm singing already with her, February.
I given you addictions both grand and small.
One month of January,
thirty-one says and three now, February.
I Stand still; in frame of a calendar,
Reflecting deadlines on my face.
Dark circles around my eyes and dates.
It is due to be the fourth before I know it.
Twenty-five opportunities reside in secret paths.
I can't find possibility knowing her name other than, February.
Soon March.
Feb 3, 2019
Feb 3, 2019 at 4:05 PM UTC
I see you crystal clear,
A lover’s lust away…
For I dine with darkness,
Bidding you as your seer…
You shouldn’t have met me,
Playing with my dear blood…
All it takes is one spell,
Rising hell from the mud…
Fixed suns will bring famine,
All your love with starve out...
Begging God for mercy,
You will receive Mammon…
What love you have is lost,
Only for demons crossed…
Feb 25, 2022
Feb 25, 2022 at 9:32 PM UTC
Love, faith and forgiveness principal are in
Christian school. Torrid anger thou must flay
While it's still displaying on the eastern tray
Ere its set on the *** laude of thy sterling
Prize. The other meek cheek of thine turn--
Though tough--to him that seek thy burn.
Gladly go not one but twain miles with
Him that bid thee. Distribute cheerfully
To widows cream bread and wine; the needy
And orphans--whether you're rolling in it--
Never neglect, and make no open show
Of thy charity: its trumpet do not blow.
Make mammon thy master nay. Believe
The Bible though you cannot It fathom
Out--the Spirit thy heart will guide. Kingdom
Eternal chiefly pursue; to goodness cleave.
Both parents and priests honour, and men
In authority obey. Keep the Lord's pen.
Fast and pray, playing not to the gallery.
In heaven's safe thy treasure store, where
Robbers and rust have no access nor share.
For worldly wants, soul, never you worry--
Jehovah-Jireh above knows thy very need,
Who gives in season due to the sower seed.
Salt and light on earth be. Thy righteousness
The Pharisees' must exceed. All differences
Reconciled, lest thy balance draws offence
By heaven's audit. Loincloth of faithfulness
Wrap. At a lady be weary to leer, and thy
***** bridle. To God thy heart wholly tie.
The log in thine own eyes first remove
Afore thy brother's speck you see. Grudge
Not but ask, seek and knock. Don't judge.
Such measure from others expect to them give--
Golden rule. Strive to enter in at the narrow
Gate: the rough, rugged road to the end follow.
Apr 20, 2014
Apr 20, 2014 at 7:34 AM UTC
anthems sweet as honey
a cup overflowing
break the power of money
it is now or never
a short life i have
the width of my hand
oh YHVH save this land
from now until forever
drag the thorns from our flesh
make us whole
our parched souls now fresh
our governors hunger for power
they mimic mammon
but the Lord our satisfying Power
bring my heart to tears
make it after Your own
a love that tears all fears
to save the lost at any cost
bless those spiritually in arrears
oh YHVH, i beseech Thee
you have been so good to me
parch our land from greed
that we may wealthily drink from Thee
may this psalm that leaked from my hand
bring praise to YHVH in every land
Jul 6, 2016
Jul 6, 2016 at 3:39 AM UTC
In the first two watches
of dark Gethsemane
while Y'shua prayed for us
His lamps went out
and so He roused them
Encouraged vigilance
Again they succumbed
On the third watch
He just let them sleep
and see them slumber still
snoring through the final watch...
the watch whose number
calls forth Meshiakh
Those who've come to take Him away
are at the gate
yet still the mammon mesmer
blisses on
Oct 4, 2010
Oct 4, 2010 at 4:24 AM UTC
Zero One and modern blight
Travel at the speed of light.
We wondered on the Wandering Jew,
Or, in lieu,
Orthon, Urian or Lilitu.
We trepanned our empty skulls,
Searched our humours,
Were touched by Rulers!
Now troubling symptoms of want and need,
Have blighted growth of yesterseed.
Patient Zero left no lead.
East fingered West
(and vice versa)
Was Ireland really the cause of cholera?
Did Blacks languish in Tuskegee squalor?
We christened Mary, but drank the water.
Fracked Incubus and Succubus
From son and daughter.
Patient Zero left the slaughter.
We deprived women of their tea
To cure wandering womb hysteriae.
Deviances and leaking lesions
Were headwaters of women's *****
Patient Zero has no season.
The barber sensed it might be smell,
So our widened streets became a sulfurous hell.
And wastelands swelled
Where curled cats dwelled.
(no talk of Michelangelo)
II
Our children's blight has a techno name,
Like the rose, IT smells the same.
With zero tolerance I lay blame
On screens and phones and video games.
The world wide box stores flipped their lids,
Touching all who crawl the social grids;
From the base of Mammon's pyramid.
Now Jake believes he's a gangsta dude
Since posting whatever on You Tube.
Nothing to gain, nothing to lose:
No services rendered but expects what's due.
Inflated egos are a system symptom,
Clearing firewalls, reaching children.
Patient Zero is no phantom.
There is no tale of rat or flea
As cause of lost immunity.
There is no open sore to fester,
The Selfie is the X-ray picture.
Patient Zero is so much quicker.
In our gel of techno bliss,
On our elliptic petrie dish,
Bathed in more than we could wish,
Patient Zero will finish,
And with that whimper
All vanish.
Mar 8, 2014
Mar 8, 2014 at 8:53 AM UTC
you don't dare
unwrap the real gift
hidden under layers of hype
too hard to discover it
beneath mounds of plastic
under the glare of neon
falsities projected
aimlessly scrolling away your soul
Godless Yuletide
Christless Noel
sterile feigned joy
useless worthless feelgood frenzy
sentimental superficiality
televised consumer fables
cute trendy on the screen
market-driven fakeries of fake snow
Mammon's medicated stress-fest
passive-aggressive goodwill
American commercialism
angelic Antichrist malls of lost souls
waiting for the next explosion
trying hard to feel the warmth
in the winter chill
of hearts hardened
against the Christ
of Christmas
unwrap the past
to find the present
in your sold-out future
Christ is Lord
Dec 24, 2016
Dec 24, 2016 at 3:41 PM UTC
O Lord, how I appreciate having my character,
free from the carnal lust of mammon; for I,
don’t have to be concerned with avarice, greed
or the presence of possessions… that I can eye!
I’m truly thankful for my current circumstance,
knowing that You have promised to never fail me;
therefore, I’ll trust Your continued support-
since I’ve been grafted into… The Living Tree!
Having been comforted and encouraged, with boldness
and confidence, I claim: Christ is my Benefactor!
My spirit won’t be gripped by any dread or fears;
I’m ignoring the silly nonsense of all detractors.
Forged within Life’s, daily crucible of Faith,
inner steel and moral disposition were developed.
From Salvation through Christ, my soul was saved,
and my life by His Grace has been… fully enveloped.
.
.
.
Author Notes
Inspired by:
Heb 3:5-6; Rev 2:7
Learn more about me and my poetry at:
http://amzn.to/1ffo9YZ
By Joseph J. Breunig 3rd, © 2015, All rights reserved.
Apr 2, 2015
Apr 2, 2015 at 10:21 AM UTC
Judy Judy Kansas cutie / it starts in the heartland / Tornado = social change through manipulated crisis / Toto the only free agent / Dorothy struck on her head by the closing window of virtual possibility / She realizes that hope'n'change have reached the prairie / Alice in Wonderland Hollywood / Kansas as futurist narrative / Star Wars pre-dated / It's a Wonderful Mythic Life / Miss Gulch as Henry Potter / Witchery in bitchery: Hillary 2016 / Scarecrow as Celtic bog-sacrifice victim / Tinman as ****** therapy client / Did that hurt? No - it felt wonderful ! / Bible-belt Pentecostal subtexts: "the anointing" / obsolete leonine monarchies / Louis Quatorze the Sun King / enlightenment through concussion / the tyrant must be resisted from the heartland / populist progressives plot stealthily to justify their rule through the wizardry of science / the tyrant utilizes tech to manipulate the credulous / green state fascism / journey out of ontic inevitability into the futurist nightmare / eco-mammon bailouts / infantile mental midgets ruled by witch-tyrants = One World Munchkinland / Dorothy as redeemer-Messiah / Dorothy as Mary Poppins / America exports populist prophecy to the greater world / Glinda the Matriarch-Goddess / Glinda as transcendent Wisdom / the Anti-witch antidote / Patriarchy creates "special effects" subterfuge / flying monkeys: shock-troops of the witch / simian social justice warriors / Obama as Witch of West AND Wizard simultaneously / flying monkeys: brown-shirt armies of new multi-culti order / George W. Bush was the the witch the house ("Hope & Change') fell on / Over the Rainbow: somewhere beyond ****** identity grievance-mongering / There's no place like the Restoration of All Things
May 18, 2016
May 18, 2016 at 5:49 PM UTC
As he lay waste her bed , her
Body, body-bed, bed-body
As he lay waste her cushions and
a saree unfurled
As he lay waste in a haste
To **** the marrow out of her
Lay waste her blankets,
And entered the bed which
Wasn’t one of Matrimony
But a bed raised in pursuit of mammon
To sort things , the easy way out
He entered a bed and she too ,
Was entered
Body-bed , bed-body,
As voices cooed and quivered
As flesh writhed and squirmed
Tamed flesh
As pleasure heaved itself
And guilt oozed out
Somewhere, unwary children shouted
Finally, oh finally , passions routed
And people fled , a temptress left
In the temptress’ lair
And though the bed still lay waste
The pillows had a lot to boast,
A reward for the magnanimous host
Young tongues savoured dead flesh
On the largesse of a bed lain waste
In a temple of flesh.
Jul 25, 2017
Jul 25, 2017 at 7:20 AM UTC
Hegel’s Hero in Dream
Hegel’s Hero appeared with video of heroes
To teach me Ideas and dialectics in society;
I saw there, Lions and Foxes of Machiavelli
Fighting , growling , springing from bushes.
Aimless Dame Fortune moves in history past
Politics of India, snowy, foggy, and shadowy!
Shivering men squat passive keeping “ID card”
As Greek slaves, before the Democratic Lords.
General Will ,as Rousseau says ,forms society,
Nation, Governments based on Ideas extant.
Lords, and the wealthy ruled rudely the ruled
In the past, as history moved as cruelly as fast.
God’s own Universe sans universal concept
On Peace; builds walls around each groups.
Religions fail to link the parted and parched
People who worship vicious Cain and Mammon .
Marx, Engels , and Mao came with the legions
Stumbled, humbled and stifled by the Mammons.
Buddha, Christ and the Prophet Mohammad
Told of Love, Grace, Patience and of Pardon
My Lord, why, we fail to wipe tears and fears?
“Sambhavami yuge yuge” says hazy, Hegel fades.
parithranaya sadhunam/ vinasaya cha dushkritham/
dharmmasamsthapanardhaya/sambhavami yuge yuge.
When in India can we expect such a Hero:Kalki,in Kali?
To be trapped, jailed as terrorist protestant, really!
Jun 18, 2013
Jun 18, 2013 at 10:26 PM UTC
The non-overlapping magisterium,
a law stating that science and religion cannot intermix,
separate chords strung from the same cloth,
vines splitting at the intersection of faith and reason,
barbs flush against the skin of the common,
man thinks he learned,
but is far from wise.
To narrow your mind so steeply,
is to hold back all that you are,
to be cut off at the knee,
giving into a disposition for failure,
for often has both religion and science failed,
wars fought in the name of God and race,
non-existent color lines we paint on the inside of our sleeves.
Science does not represent evil,
and religion does not represent good,
they merely represent two sides of the same coin,
one the corporeal and the other the ethereal.
Aggression is as human as the need to breathe,
and kindness is a forced characteristic,
but do not cast aside the flame,
for love and fury are intertwined,
but do not confuse these with wrath and lust,
the difference is in motivation,
so if you seek truth,
stare both in the eye,
the material and transcendent,
God and Mammon,
the lord and the beast,
the father,
a representation of the good in the human heart,
hold close these virtues,
but do not suffocate them,
and if the father is good,
then the beast is the black sheep,
representing that darkness inherent in the heart of man,
this personification of evil,
a scapegoat,
although we are caught in the tempter's snare,
he is not the source,
and if he is your reflection,
love him first and cast him off second.
And if someone protests your belief in the abstract,
I say love them,
but I also say stand up,
and do what you feel is right,
and walk your own way,
not the path chosen for you.
Feb 6, 2014
Feb 6, 2014 at 1:07 PM UTC
What if I told you that your god is dead?
that supply and demand, economic forces
we trust more than the laws of physics
are not supplemented by a caring, Invisible hand?
That the holy scriptures, thin, green pages
in between the folds of a wallet
are no more valueable than this gum wrapper
blowing in the wind
Unless we all BELIEVE otherwise
Adam Smith said
"Many will enter, but few will win" -cite
What will give you a sense of purpose
or security when you try to sleep at night?
Everyone hope in the American Dream!
a capitalistic kushion to save you in your time of need
made of vapor to catch you when the stocks are falling
its appalling this heaven of prosperity
that depends on consuming more and more of the earth
Listen to The Economist's sermon
Watch how he reads the tea leaves
Will the Fed raise the interest rates this year?
We throw the dice and say our prayers.
All things work together for good
For those who love it.
Welcome to the worship of Mammon.
Jan 26, 2015
Jan 26, 2015 at 8:41 PM UTC
Deep in wood’s twig embrace
She lies beneath the leaf tessellation
Her hollow skull and hollow chest are friends with the burning winds
She is hallowed in her sloping waist
With child
She is mother bony
Woman with skinless face
She is grinless
For her jaw was stolen in ages past
Yet she is blessed with child
Her middle is heavy with boundless boy
A boy fated
To be *******
Emperor
Tyrant
King
To be lord of the shattered lands and even their scattered men
Destined to be crowned in fragments of skulls and silky fabric reds
He shall mate with fire
Be father of arson spawn
His face will be carved in Mammon’s silver toys
He will never be forgotten by any of history’s tedious scribes
Yet first he must be born
Now the winds are chanting
They push at her pudgy waist
They are chanting for the birth of the emperor ******* king
They desire the tyrant
They are the slaves of God
For they are catalysts that mold the shapes of futures’ lords
They will sing triumphant
When he is pushed through dusty hips
They will congratulate their oldest and most silent friend
He is birthed with great force
The spit of cadaverous womb
Crying shrieks in the forest
No one living to clean him
By spirits’ force he is taught
To eat the last of mother’s skin
To grow to be the friend of the whispering burning winds
He shall grow into great beast
With strength to wield the lance
He will enter the kingdoms of men
Appearing as a wild God
While he is shaping his role
His mother will often laugh
Ever since he left her
Her body was never again the same
Jan 8, 2017
Jan 8, 2017 at 6:52 PM UTC
Whenever I feel like
Hanging-
lolling my head, I turn to this book.
Words appear how they are- no more, no less.
The doors of perception are infinite, no boundaries.
I may have stayed up, late, just to write here. Or drop tears on paper like rain drops on lakes.
Smudging the lines, words...
into vast grey nothingness.
To enjoy the world in a room
Full of boring analogies and empathic wallpaper.
Artistic excellence thus dies
And with it my youthful, passionate side
When you're strange no one cares:
Like a customer in a pawn shop has only come to look at wares.
Superficial, empty.
And that ghost of my former self
Comes alive when I no longer care-
If I'm strange, sadistic, wicked.
I die a little inside seeing her joy.
Like the gypsy who comes to worship Mammon; she seeks wealth, fame prosperity;
Because she has no one she can value
She can only put a price on her folly.
Bought and sold, tossed around.
Moving from group, to group:
A nomad, a merchant, a nobody.
Like the Moor who threw away a pearl richer than all his tribe-
I throw away my artistic side.
Freedom is out of reach
And once again I have been swept up on the shore of an abandoned beach.
Indifferent. Garbage. Waste.
Jun 21, 2017
Jun 21, 2017 at 6:06 PM UTC
Something wrong somewhere?
River is supposed to carry water not silt!
It supposed to bless us with water and humus!
But not with sandcasting!
Something wrong somewhere?
Forest is supposed to encompass us with diversity of fortune not with weeds!
It supposed to bless with wilderness of life and opportunity to learn relationship
But not with generation of threat and depreciation!
Something wrong somewhere?
Road supposed to provides us way to transfer,
Transfer of goods and services of our toil
Transfer of knowledge, idea and skills for betterment!
Not to transfer all the venom of destruction!
Destruction of nature, culture and people!
Something wrong somewhere?
Ruler suppose take position for welfare of all
Not for material gain, congregation of power and arriving at fame!
Something wrong somewhere?
People supposed to stand by the people in joy and in misfortune!
Suppose to stand for brotherhood and posterity
But not to abuse and overthrow!
Something wrong somewhere in the commencement
We unable to learn
‘How to learn and make decision!’
Because every decision spoils our dream, robbed our mammon of life!
Something wrong somewhere
Need to start it again from the beginning!
May 16, 2018
May 16, 2018 at 1:32 PM UTC
Accepting the truth might cost your physical life
and if it doesn't, you might soon wish it had
by the time it's done with your wife
my daughters don't talk to me
they think I'm bad
now I'm free
*
that hurts a lot
but not nearly as much
as would the pain of their lot
when the dead in Y'shua are raised
for I live not the lie that ignores nonesuch
just to gain mammon and eyes that are glazed
Sep 16, 2010
Sep 16, 2010 at 11:14 PM UTC
In another time
Before clocks would chime…
Before submission and dominance
Before neglect and providence…
Before Boanerges and Mammon
There was a great chiasm…
The word came from the spirit
And darkness became clearer…
Oct 20, 2012
Oct 20, 2012 at 1:44 PM UTC