"synagogues" poems
Howls in the night
cross the threshold of savagery
Coordinated hate
of a hundred jackboots
stomping faces in the streets
Storefronts smashed
Crushed glass crunching
under the feet of unbridled violence
Doors bashed in
Swinging sledges smash
Women and children dragged
kicking and screaming from their homes
Beaten unconscious
then beaten while unconscious
Clothes rended
flesh roughly groped
******* mashed
by laughing barbarians
with teeth made of knives
Innocence of a generation *****
in a single evening
Ransacking hands
strangle the wealth of a culture
One thousand synagogues in flames
light cast magnified in the carpet of crystals
sparkle of hellish brilliance
Ninety one lives snuffed
they were the lucky ones
Avoided the camps
where greater horrors were wrought
in the forges of torment
from the pounding of flesh
beneath hatred like hammers
Jun 18, 2012
Jun 18, 2012 at 8:27 AM UTC
NO OFFENCE MEANT TO ANYONE.
JUST WORD PLAY.
Many thoughts of saviours.
Different deities.
Varied idols.
Doctrines unique,
Sometimes similar.
Holy books.
Different sects, yes I said sects.
Buddhists, Mormons, Muslims too,
Hindus, Jews and Rastafarians.
Pass the spliff, that one miffs me.
Too name but only one or two.
Garlands or flowers.
Holy cows.
Churches and temples.
Mosques and mystic synagogues.
Or even halls perpetuating to the Kingdom.
Gis' us a pint of blood or not.
Definitely not vampires,oops I forgot.
"Cup of tea, love?"
Welcome to the Mormons.
Latter day saints?
Jesus Christ, what a choice.
My explanation, I'm agnostic.
But, never on a Sunday.
I don't want converting.
(C) LIVVI
Nov 3, 2015
Nov 3, 2015 at 7:28 PM UTC
Demoralization.
The delinquency of this
day-and-age.
With clipped wings and
Gnashing teeth
we contemplate escape
from our gilded cages.
Material.ism
Nihilism.
New religion at large
Go into your churches
Your synagogues ,
Pray for your things.
Nov 15, 2012
Nov 15, 2012 at 11:39 PM UTC
I guess you really can not forgive me
in this beautiful country of yours
for I hold you so dearly, under those
Canadian stars, sure we may dream
miraculous things, but weight on
these feathers and waning wings
serpentine jealousy, babe, not envy
please, leave, me, be, innocent, of
steam, send onto me Jesus Christ
Girl, i need someone to clarify biblically
did the catholic we knifed, deserve
to call me a worthless being, or will i find him
in prison like everyone finds him I'm just
happy its 20 14, when Tupac is to be reborn
Judge his reasonings were, my Mother didn't raise me
Catholic, her mother did want her Mothers
Mother , to have not wanted to raise her
Daughter, catholic, in the snow, with a tune
for you, waiting at the St, Stephen Torro Cemetery
Holden , your best friends broken rosary/broken nose
Pope Francis, we came to opposite levels of holy,
Heaven or Hell only knows, over standing does not exist
Mathew 6 Be careful not to practice your righteousness in front of others to be seen by them. If you do, you will have no reward from your Father in heaven.
2 “So when you give to the needy, do not announce it with trumpets, as the hypocrites do in the synagogues and on the streets, to be honored by others. Truly I tell you, they have received their reward in full. 3 But when you give to the needy, do not let your left hand know what your right hand is doing, 4 so that your giving may be in secret. Then your Father, who sees what is done in secret, will reward you.
Jan 3, 2014
Jan 3, 2014 at 12:26 PM UTC
(footnote)
2100 years ago a band of Jews defeated the Greek army
And drove them off their land, reclaiming the holy temple
In Jerusalem and rededicating it to the service of god.
when they sought to light the temples menorah
They found only a single cruse of olive oil that
escaped contamination by the Greeks.
Miraculously the one day supply lasted eight days.
The sages instituted the festival of Chanukah
To publicize these miracles.
The Dreidel which is a four sided top with a
Hebrew letter on each side which means
“ a great miracle happened here”
was used later on in the years to give thanks to god
Without the enemy knowing that they were praying.
Chanukah, the Jewish festival of rededication, also known as the festival of lights, is an eight day festival beginning on the 25th day of the Jewish month of Kislev.
Chanukah is probably one of the best known Jewish holidays, not because of any great religious significance, but because of its proximity to Christmas. Many non-Jews (and even many assimilated Jews!) think of this holiday as the Jewish Christmas, adopting many of the Christmas customs, such as elaborate gift-giving and decoration. It is bitterly ironic that this holiday, which has its roots in a revolution against assimilation and suppression of Jewish religion, has become the most assimilated, secular holiday on our calendar.
Christmas and Chanukah are known world wide
But these two faiths do not collide.
They walk hand in hand
For they came out of the promised land.
You see : the son of god was born a Jew
The Romans felt this was taboo.
No other religion could exist
This was controlled by the Romans fist.
JESUS preached in synagogues throughout the lands
Something that the Romans did withstand.
His own people wanted his death
But little did they know
That with this- a new faith would grow.
The cross on which he died became a symbol
Of Christianity, and that’s the way
God meant it to be.
Chanukah is eight days of giving while the Christian
Holiday is just one day ,but during these
holidays we all kneel and pray.
We give GOD thanks for all the beauties of the earth
And for family and friends, and it is something
That will never end.
As long as man holds a belief in their hearts
And faith,-then all will be overcome and
Let GODS will be done.
© L . RAMS
Dec 7, 2012
Dec 7, 2012 at 12:17 PM UTC
Birds don't rain down from heart attacks,
Or aneurysms: we should be waist high
In hundreds of millions of feathered bodies.
Where are they?
Not like us, who fall in the strangest places:
Stop signs, ball games, synagogues, schools.
And we cover them, step around them,
Chalk mark floors and sidewalks,
And eventually pick up the pieces.
But we can't perch on live wires,
Or fly between wind vanes.
Where are the bodies.
Domestic or feral.
Look to the sociocat,
Though innocent,
It prowls by nature.
Nov 6, 2018
Nov 6, 2018 at 9:53 AM UTC
The mirth crease on my face,
Are the traces of scoff,
Laced in my heart,
The oath I swore,
I hold with pride,
And the throne;I shall surely ascend,
For in their minds are nefarious surmise,
Bequeathed by their fathers,
As an epitome of my exactitude,
And in the reverence of their supposed lore,
"He is powerless"their honored lingo,
"He is powerless"their honored lingo,
The webs I cast,
And crown the ravens on the orbs,
Somersaulting the flamboyance and alluring sciences,
In the follies of their fantasies and lust,
Their souls are clipped with taint claws,
And shooed into my den,
"He is powerless"their honored lingo,
In their temples and synagogues,
Are my dote ravens,
Quoting the collars of their scriptures,
And stalking their honored lingo,
In their desperations for excellence and deliverance,
Their minds and sight,
Are bewitched with elixirs,
To their satiety,
And drove in slavery,
'He is powerless"their honored lingo,
In their moments of quandery,
I hover on the corridors of their thoughts,
And whisper the "B" plans,
Brewing the animosities and cruelties among theirselves,
Carving justification for the aftermath,
But still;"He is powerless"their honored lingo,
Apostrophe'
©Historian E.Lexano
Apr 8, 2015
Apr 8, 2015 at 1:43 AM UTC
We were crazy.
he and i.
We'd cut ourselves with rocks to see
whose blood would run the fastest,
It was hailing and we went for a swim.
Nuts.
He said he had a rope. He said
there's two Smith and Wessons in his ******* closet.
I kissed him.
No favorite colors,
We'd lie in the shade of synagogues and under the blaze
of search lights, a couple of lost springs. Picking me
up around the corner so they wouldn't see, he'd
tumble his bike so that we'd fly and i'd scream.
Beautiful.
He said for us to run away. Never sweat. He said let's
run, let's ******* run. He said shut the ******* door.
I run. Run away. He doesn't like me to. He had a rope
and there's two Smith and Wessons in his closet.
Feb 20, 2016
Feb 20, 2016 at 12:49 PM UTC
Just follow the trail of dead heroes
the path littered with suicide notes
and shotgun shells
tender hearts made of tinder
veins lined with gasoline
fingertips with matchstick nails
you see I’ve been thinking
a lot about dying lately
as the world crumbles apart
and human decency is becoming
a fable of days long past
I can’t stop myself from thinking
that maybe we would
have been better off
dying when we were younger
maybe as far back as six or seven
back when we were an age
that still believed in things
worth believing in
because god **** it hurts
to look at what we are becoming
while completely ignoring
what we could be
instead of reaching for are potential
we pull back and hide
in the grasp of fear and doubt
nothing is learned from denial
as we take pride in god and country
while ignoring the blood stained
pages of human history
and tell me what god
would allow such cruelty
such blind hate
so much anger and fury
to let bullets fly
in our school yards and streets
churches and synagogues
places of unity and love
how much longer can we march
how much longer can we fight
how much longer can we live
in this world of “us vs. them”
when we’re just like them
and they are no different than us
whose line is it drawn in the sand
whose border is it
that separates this land
from that earth
who decided that there
was a difference
between you and me
two souls lost along the path
of dead heroes
with our tender hearts made of tinder
veins lined with gasoline
fingertips with matchstick nails
trying to hold on to hope
without burning ourselves
from the inside out
Nov 17, 2018
Nov 17, 2018 at 6:14 PM UTC
I have cried the tears of the distress,
Borne the pain of the hurt,
Felt the loneliness of the bereaved,
And the agony of the distraught;
I have bled the blood of the pierced,
Borne the pain of the broken-hearted,
Endured the shame of the abused,
And the confusion of the disappointed;
A black cross inprinted on my back,
Wailings of little children haunt me,
Ashes of loved ones in my sack,
And many skulls and bones to bury;
Crows dominate my chapel at day,
And owls are my visitors at night,
Dragons parade the burning altar,
Bats above blur the moonlight;
Eyes that see in darkness- answer me,
My past unchanged but my future- re-design,
Illuminate the path way that lies ahead,
Give me a third eye and make me divine;
Find me before my throat is slit
The murderers of my loved ones visits,
They call out from the enchanted woods,
Prepared to tear me to innumerable pieces;
Take me to the lake and hang me,
Before the horrors of the dark prevail,
And the termites in my grave rejoice,
Let me drown in the sacred grail;
Let the witches wail in surprise,
When their cauldron becomes empty,
And their synagogues come to ruin,
While i rise to everlasting suprimacy.
Jul 30, 2016
Jul 30, 2016 at 4:55 PM UTC
(footnote)
2100 years ago a band of Jews defeated the Greek army
And drove them off their land, reclaiming the holy temple
In Jerusalem and rededicating it to the service of god.
when they sought to light the temples menorah
They found only a single cruse of olive oil that
escaped contamination by the Greeks.
Miraculously the one day supply lasted eight days.
The sages instituted the festival of Chanukah
To publicize these miracles.
The Dreidel which is a four sided top with a
Hebrew letter on each side which means
“ a great miracle happened here”
was used later on in the years to give thanks to god
Without the enemy knowing that they were praying.
Chanukah, the Jewish festival of rededication, also known as the festival of lights, is an eight day festival beginning on the 25th day of the Jewish month of Kislev.
Chanukah is probably one of the best known Jewish holidays, not because of any great religious significance, but because of its proximity to Christmas. Many non-Jews (and even many assimilated Jews!) think of this holiday as the Jewish Christmas, adopting many of the Christmas customs, such as elaborate gift-giving and decoration. It is bitterly ironic that this holiday, which has its roots in a revolution against assimilation and suppression of Jewish religion, has become the most assimilated, secular holiday on our calendar.
Christmas and Chanukah are known world wide
But these two faiths do not collide.
They walk hand in hand
For they came out of the promised land.
You see: the son of god was born a Jew
The Romans felt this was taboo.
No other religion could exist
This was controlled by the Romans fist.
JESUS preached in synagogues throughout the lands
Something that the Romans did withstand.
His own people wanted his death
But little did they know
That with this- a new faith would grow.
The cross on which he died became a symbol
Of Christianity, and that’s the way
God meant it to be.
Chanukah is eight days of giving while the Christian
Holiday is just one day, but during these
holidays we all kneel and pray.
We give GOD thanks for all the beauties of the earth
And for family and friends, and it is something
That will never end.
As long as man holds a belief in their hearts
And faith, -then all will be overcome and
Let GODS will be done.
louis rams
Dec 22, 2014
Dec 22, 2014 at 10:22 PM UTC
This convalescence eases on slowly,
Coy acuteness craves the longing contentment!!
No resentment, as I walk high heel to booted lace!!!
Creditor, to whom Didst thou pay thine debt?
Or is thy debt still owed?
Curiosity is crowched beneathe the delinquency of fendid demagogues!!
Mortar of temples and synagogues,
You chief cornerstone!!!
You guru with no home,
Curvature of decadence delineates your demeaning haste,
Open up taste the taste, and heed thy view!!!
A must programmed to turn muteable,
A mourner for me and you.
Omniscient angels raistheth me above the mountains peaks,
Where the strange instruments are observable,
And lovers are loveable,
As your kin she will be to be more than distraction!!!!
May 13, 2015
May 13, 2015 at 6:13 PM UTC
A flood of teen hormones and sappy drivel YAY
Hooray for no talent !
Religious sycophants are like flies on ****
Sad nasty little things with no wit .
Muslims and Jews are the worst
non stop psychosis self afflicted curse.
Flapping and buzzing and jockeying for **** ******* position.
All the while lusting for and denying the inquisition.
They have always been the walking dead among us
brainless shambling automatons making such a fuss.
Hungry for brains for they find none in their mosques or synagogues.
Rooting ceaselessly and wallowing in their stupid **** lies
like wild feral ethnocentric hogs.
Barking and yapping and threatening
fighting and ******* like Catholics
like dogs.
And like flies on **** every time you take a break from shooing them away you find more have gathered raving.
Hollow lies and promises of here after.
Truly nothing worth listening to yet so , so much to say.
Away , Away Away.
Lest you fools and unquestioning idiots think you are welcome and try to make a home or find a place to stay.
Go preach please to the semi trucks in the middle of the interstate
they need salvation now and truly cannot wait.
Sep 22, 2025
Sep 22, 2025 at 1:23 AM UTC
I call myself the gardener sometimes
Whisper it to my hands at night
Taste my own teeth in my mouth
Feel a bulb sprout at the bottom of my lungs
and let that breath grow into a chuckle.
I call myself God's gardener
Because all I ever did was make things grow right
Sort out the bad seeds
Watch the tree heave itself trough the skin of the Earth
and then trim off the infected branches.
I grow my own vegetables
Till the rows
Harvest the ripe and throw away the rotten
Take them to the market and sell them.
I was sitting in my booth there
When I saw a **** in the garden
And I heard that high-pitched, queer-boy laugh
Like nails on a chalkboard.
Made the hairs on the back of my neck strain against their roots
and I felt sick
Watching them walking around like they were
Regular folks
and I thought to myself
What if they weren't walking anymore?
What if they weren't walking at all?
That was when my trigger finger started twitching.
Wasn't the first time that white hot burn had come licking at my soul.
I'd torched a couple Synagogues
Never felt God's love more powerful
Than the thought of how beautiful
Those flames would look
Flickering off of my shining white family's faces
Like beacons of hope.
I was just trimming the infected branches
Scrubbing my people pure and clean and pink
just like God told me to.
Folks don't listen to God's law anymore, though
So I got 6 by 8 to move in
Only my hands and my breath for company.
Sometimes, I lay on my cot and stick my middle finger and forefinger out like a gun
bang bang
Laugh to myself
Empty a clip and fire five more shots,
But that high-pitched, queer-boy laugh still bounces back to me
Echoing off the bars of my cell
and I swallow my dry tongue.
I can never quite get my own mouth clear enough
But I am still a righteous man
an Aryan king
a minister ordained by the Christ's Covenant Church
I know the bible like it is scrawled on the walls of my skull
and the bible says,
If a man also lie with mankind, as he lieth with a woman, both of them have committed an abomination: they shall be put to death; and their blood shall be upon them.
So I lay them down next to each other
and whispered the words of my Lord and Savior
Spoke it with my trigger finger
Emptied a clip and fired five more shots.
bang bang
Nov 10, 2012
Nov 10, 2012 at 10:07 PM UTC
The many faces of JESUS, I see it everywhere
Staring from a rug, staring from a chair.
He is in the trees so green, and in the grass so high
In the mountains , and in the sky.
In the rivers, and in the ocean blue
He is all around- he’s inside of you.
In your generosity, and in your caring ways
In the love that you show, from day to day.
In the newborn child that is laughing with you.
In the sounds of the birds, and the beasts of prey.
He is everything that we do and say.
He is in our churches, mosques, and synagogues
And every place we pray.
He is every breath we take
And he helps us to find the way.
He is in the sun at daytime
And in the moon at night
In every good thought and dream
And always in plain sight.
In our cemeteries where our
Loved ones are laid to rest.
He’s even on our currency
and that’s the best one yet.
( in god we trust)
He is everywhere that surrounds
Our every being.
This is my LORD, this is what I’m seeing.
Aug 11, 2010
Aug 11, 2010 at 3:35 PM UTC
The hateful state of the new american way
what a monstrous thing
we have made of the dream
fear rules the simple minded
and the simple minded don’t mind
the mess we have made of everything
history repeats itself
as we have learned nothing
from our past mistakes
rinse reload repeat
a brand new ****** day
for the new american way
not safe in the school yards
not safe in the churches
and synagogues
not safe in our own skin
how do we fight the monster
that stays invisible
until the moment it squeezes
the trigger of a gun full of bullets
from a heart full of hate
what has might ever made right
when war after war treaties are signed
but the peace that is kept
is nothing more than a powder keg
waiting to explode
unfortunately hatred
survived the holocaust too
Nov 3, 2018
Nov 3, 2018 at 12:49 AM UTC
*may i please
love you
touch your hand
meditate its slender form
feel each of your fingers
study their shape and bend
wanting your entire hand in my mouth
dreaming of you
clutching hard and desperate
that i may shed blood to sweeten your day
like dark berry jam
tattoo you with inky hooks !
may i please
brush your face with o so tremulous a touch
catch your buttercup smile and languid honey breath
caress your hair like a soft kittens sway
be entranced by your glistening aqueous lips
brand you
mine
with scalding iron !
your every move
a charm
that tumbles through echoes canyons
my heart a vaulted moon quivering
your every glance scorching me
sizzling like bacon on a hot tin roof
while moistened pink tongue
licks across pearly whites
sending bolts of scintillant refulgence
booming through me
shaking me to the floor
scar you with daggid cutlery !
can you feel me breaking for you
your eyes, synagogues for worship
crumbling
vanishing at you feet
you sweeten crests soul
do you see through me like a window
your pinned butterfly
foot slave
terminus
ticker tape love machine
printing staccato
marks and remarks
may i love you
may i come close
may i fall at your knees
open your throat
that willingly yields
veins and rivulets of red blood kisses
flooding me like child birth
into arms of love
waiting shaking
pierced
through the heart
may i please
Jun 5, 2017
Jun 5, 2017 at 5:38 PM UTC
This a message for all the ***** people that think they can trade kisses for sentience and not simply live to tell about it
There's nothing so important that it really can't wait until the morning
There is no need to apologize for your shadows if they're old enough to take responsibility for themselves
The sound of love has been uncovered in the basement of all our churches, mosques, synagogues and temples
Whenever the weather is too good to be true it probably is and what appears to be real is frequently just an illusion
But you also shouldn't let that stop you from doing what you've chosen to
And if we are persistent we will eventually unveil all of this confusion
Seeing through densities and targets with all of our discernment and our reason
We are the reason you envision lovers giving kisses like its actually nobody else's business
We live in a fundamental rebellion and everything's already alright regardless of what it says on television
Life is the liminal space between existence and oblivion
We are fundamental particles of naked persuasion who like to dance dynamically on anomalous targets of diabolical estrangement
We are eternally proud of our ability to come into coherence and cohesion
We speak recitations of fantasies inclusive of these fabricated realities and imitations
Sep 9, 2019
Sep 9, 2019 at 11:14 PM UTC
She was a young girl, just fifteen,
when the wondrous deed was done.
Behold, a ****** had conceived;
It was foretold she’d have a son.
She was promised to an older man,
a joiner of wood, simple and plain.
Many a man might have demurred;
exposing her to the stones of shame.
In his troubled sleep, he had a dream,
revealing all that God had done;
Joseph took Mary to be his wife
As the Roman census had begun.
Mary considered these things in her heart
As the infant grew and thrived.
He was strong in wisdom, kind of heart.
Though Herod pursued Him, the child survived.
Three years he traveled these ancient hills;
In synagogues and Temples, he taught.
Until, betrayed, he was arrested,
and brought before the Roman court.
How hard for Mary to behold
her only son upon a cross.
She heard Him cry out to the sky
and yield His spirit when all seemed lost.
It seemed he was in Satan’s power;
When even gold appeared but dross.
Then Joseph of Arimathea came
to claim His body from the cross.
Hope is a slender reed;
enough to build a dream upon.
She, too, beheld the empty tomb.
The stone removed, the Master gone.
Jan 25, 2017
Jan 25, 2017 at 3:56 AM UTC
Although an atheist
with many question that abound
bout the lineage of humanity, this bard
formerly of Belmont hills
nada seeketh to be crowned
yet applauds those
who attest in deity
where salvation doth re-dound
peace of body, mind
and spirit can be found
and rest in peace when demise
finds her/him under ground
identified by a tombstone and a mound
which...over time becomes less round.
-----------------------------------------------------
YOM KIPPUR ™
Those who practice Jewish
faith pay obeisance
Too holiest day of their year
Atonement & repentance mantra themes
Unswerving prayers flock doth wear
As spiritual raiment in tandem
With a twenty-five hour
fast orthodox n’er veer
With pride synagogues rabbi beckons
flock to don cloak of virtue to wear
Supplicating against creator
sans vices within psyche tear
The delicate fabric covenant
easily shredded
per temptation from ****** spear
Loftiness attendant on this
High Holy Day
whence judgment severe
Within gilt written tomb
encapsulating behavior –
Vile forgiveness rare
Thus inducing many a worshiper
To spend hours immersed in prayer
Or…even self-abuse to vitiate
demonic forces that invisibly leer
Drowning out words of the prophet
that believers must hear
To attain coveted accompaniment
To promised land
without materialistic gear
Whence with most obedience
to sacred texts will fare
Most successfully and kowtowed
Like Rudolph the red nose rein deer
While Santa Claus
godlike heard crystal clear
Whose voice ushers inxs of hoof beats
Akin to horn of Gabriel did blare
As eve n tide cast dark shadows
from royal Belvedere
For those lives of purity
offered salvation into the heavenly air.
Jan 22, 2018
Jan 22, 2018 at 4:51 PM UTC