"tithe" poems
I've walked the beaten path
Sinned in the ways of every religion
But the only salvation I'm looking for
Is in the smiles I'm able to place on your face
So when you read my text
Listen to the way I'm telling you I like you
Listen to the message in the complex smiles
The kissy faces
That seem to be endless
You can't call this puppy love
This is the way you were meant to be loved
So baby let me make you happy
I'm not asking for the physicality of a relationship
I'm asking to put this band on your finger
Look in the mirror
See my complete reflection
Because this mirror is your eyes
Baby let me make happy
There's nothing I'd rather do
Honestly you're on my mind
I've only talked to you on occasion
I don't don't want to send coded messages
In the texts that make you smile and want me
I want to tell you straight up
Baby I like you
I'm not innocent
I'm not expecting you to be
I'm just asking you to be mine
Let me make you happy the only way I know
Let me be the sculptor
Plaster smiles on your frowning face
Strip the clothes from your mannequin figure
Let me make you happy
In and out of the bed
I'm only asking for a chance
Baby let me make you happy
I promise you'll never be alone
Even if I'm seventeen hours away
My heart is in the pillow you hold tight
My cologne is in the sheets you wrap yourself in
You can even wear my clothes
Go insane and let me walk in
On you making out with a pillow dressed like me
I'll smile and I promise
I'll love you the way that pillow never could
Let me make you happy
The way the other guys failed to
When they ******* up the chance you blessed them with
I promise baby
I'll never hurt you
My shoes are in the closet
They're not going anywhere
My suitcases are unpacked and laying in the dump
Three states away
The distance you wanted in the first place
Between me and my second love
You know I had a tendency of packing up
Leaving in the middle of the night
When your slumbering hand wandered on my side of the bed
Looking for the warmth of my skin
But Baby I promise my walking days are over
My running shoes are too old
They don't fit anymore
Let me make you happy the way you deserve
I understand if you don't want to do it
I'm not going to cliche it up
I'm not going to beg
I'm just going to tell you
I like you
Ask you for only one thing in this relationship
Let me make you happy
It's not much but let me make it my sole purpose in life
I don't need a god or gods and goddesses
All I need is the heart in your chest
To be my altar
To be where I tithe my sins away
To give praise to the heart that saved me
Let me make you happy
I'm not a complete ****** like the rest of them
Aug 1, 2013
Aug 1, 2013 at 3:12 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
Magical cauldron apomixes connoisseur
Cephalic phantasmagoria entity obliquitous
Mystical conjurous conjugal entrepreneur
Fantasia fantastication phantasm obsequious
Amorously arduous ardent raconteur
Ephemeral translucent opulence ubiquitous
Vanity sanctimonium temerities saboteur
Intrepid verve’s intriguingly iniquitous
Sorcerous sabbatical apothegms chauffeur
Endemic veracities fortuitous elicitous
Futurity fatidics fornication kithe
Ephemeral metaphor semantics flaunts
Empirical emulation scenarios blithe
Subjunctive subliminal nostalgias haunts
Agile articulation acuities lithe
Analogizing corroborative prolificacy daunts
Alacritous tactile manipulations writhe
Numinous syntactical paradigm *****
Emanate imminent perdition tithe
Orotund jaded seal ordinand jaunts
Overt convection coercions chiaroscuro tempestuous
Apex crux axis ****** matrix torrid
Manifest objectified enamorous interstice lecherous
Spurt binge spree ***** protuberance squalid
endearingly engendering amore
Jan 13, 2013
Jan 13, 2013 at 9:51 PM UTC
Gabriel whispered in mine ear
His archangelic poesie.
How can I write? I only hear
The sobbing murmur of the sea.
Raphael breathed and bade me pass
His rapt evangel to mankind;
I cannot even match, alas!
The ululation of the wind.
The gross grey gods like gargoyles spit
On every poet's
holy head;
No mustard-seed of truth or wit
In those curst furrows, quick or dead!
A tithe of what I know would cleanse
The leprosy of earth; and I -
My limits are like other men's.
I must live dumb, and dumb must die!
5.3k
Peter 2:2
"Like new born babies, crave pure Spiritual Milk,
so that by it you grow up in your Salvation.
Now that you have tasted , know that the Lord is good."
Milk? Yes, I would love to know your Spiritual Milk, and love to share all the Spiritual Milk that I have grown to know of my own Salvation. Know thyself, and thy Milk. only seems fitting, before one goes thinking they wish to know anothers milk. Milk of any kind,that is. For I wish follow the Spiritual Milk before I know all the beautiful milks of any love I ever hope to share my life with. For life I intend to be sharing my all with only one person and with that one person my full and whole life, for life. What do you wish to do friends? and what Milk do you know of thyself? beloved in yourself, you are able and worth it. trust, you are, so act accordingly and raise that milk and tithe your ten percent to your ark
Jul 15, 2015
Jul 15, 2015 at 12:17 AM UTC
The Birds Fly into the eclipse of Mars,
They're lives tithe me by fives,
To the Man beyond those jailed bars.
Searching for a new place to call home,
Since this place is a waste of space,
For everyone an then some.
But with especial selfishness, especially me.
I need to beat my heart again, by meeting those I once found sweet,
Birds flying to the Eclipse of mars to be free.
Its futile of course,
But that is where beauty is truly entreated,
Into our lives of insignificant remorse.
Get me out of here now.
We'll go flying just like those birds, into the eclipse Of mars,
Just me and you, the gorgeous Queen of the Stars,
Your smile radiates my Milky way and beyond,
We'll navigate the asteroid belts,
And fly through the black holes,
Because like those futile birds,
We just want to be free.
Mar 31, 2010
Mar 31, 2010 at 12:51 AM UTC
Magical cauldron apomixes connoisseur
Cephalic phantasmagoria entity obliquitous
Mystical conjurous conjugal entrepreneur
Fantasia fantastication phantasm obsequious
Amorously arduous ardent raconteur
Ephemeral translucent opulence ubiquitous
Vanity sanctimonium temerities saboteur
Intrepid verve’s intriguingly iniquitous
Sorcerous sabbatness apothegms chauffeur
Endemic veracities fortuitous elicitous
Futurity fatidic's fornication kithe
Ephemeral metaphor semantics flaunts
Empirical emulation scenarios blithe
Subjunctive subliminal nostalgias haunts
Agile articulation acuities lithe
Analogizing corroborative prolificacy daunts
Alacritous tactile manipulations writhe
Numinous syntactical paradigm *****
Emanate imminent perdition tithe
Orotund jaded seal ordinand jaunts
Overt convection coercions chiaroscuro tempestuous
Apex crux axis ****** matrix torrid
Manifest objectified enamorous interstice lecherous
Spurt binge spree ***** protuberance squalid
endearingly engendering amore
Mar 30, 2017
Mar 30, 2017 at 7:59 PM UTC
The Gods are dead: no longer do we bring
To grey-eyed Pallas crowns of olive-leaves!
Demeter’s child no more hath tithe of sheaves,
And in the noon the careless shepherds sing,
For Pan is dead, and all the wantoning
By secret glade and devious haunt is o’er:
Young Hylas seeks the water-springs no more;
Great Pan is dead, and Mary’s son is King.
And yet—perchance in this sea-tranced isle,
Chewing the bitter fruit of memory,
Some God lies hidden in the asphodel.
Ah Love! if such there be, then it were well
For us to fly his anger: nay, but see,
The leaves are stirring: let us watch awhile.
2.7k
treacherously torrid and torrential torrents of totally tangential tumultuous tortuous ; tyrannically torturous adjunct viably salient seethe.
procrastinating pandemic plenipotentiary prosthesis ; prosaically pragmatic parenthetical predication predilection premise prognostication
panoramic tableau preternatural propensity proclivity prestidigitation gesticulation :
gyration guidon ; ghastly gruesome grotesque hideously horrible horrendous heinous
grotty gnarly
diabolically maniacal dementia brusque macabre abrupt
awful
amalgamated anathema analysis agnate aggregate aberrance
somatalogy virtuoso cognate obduracy
worse
rudiment ebullience , confluence effluent effusion affluent , prolific profusity opulence , cogent fecund secular secund , recondite redolence abstrusely obstreperous mesomerism resonance resilience
protractive perpetude futurity
blither blandishing blabber burnishing boresome blahs
lithe blithe jabber prattle chatter tithe
morose morsel moribundness
stolid stoic
stalwart bastion bulwark
Oct 24, 2013
Oct 24, 2013 at 5:45 PM UTC
When our names were smeared
with dust and kicked
butt-naked into the streets
tramped upon, squashed by dancers
revelling on the song of our shame
We take all in saintly fate
Poverty has diverse chairs
all which are glued
to the heart of hell
upon which we sit
pipped with jears
Our pains for the tithe
we never paid
untill our lives are almost spent
We aren't bearing with us
our sack of shame to the land
were we shall endly rest
Laugh not out of you breathe
we shall mend our broken past
and pick up the moon we left behind
Oct 26, 2013
Oct 26, 2013 at 6:50 PM UTC
The mystery deepens with slow steps
down the drive to that green mystery box
that holds the secrets of the universe within its grasp.
Besides the bills that need attention
invitations to church services
'fresh cuts' from butcher going down
products the clothing store discounts
power bills powering me up
water bills wetting me down
local rags headlining unknown street corners
filled with rage and graffiti
police searching for crims
(not on my street-No)
preachers discounting heaven for a tithe
car license rebirth
warrant remake
local school financial support
what else is new?
I've recently installed another box next
standing beside green box
flip all of the above next box
for recycling.
I only keep the one
which says in small print
No ******* collections on Labour Day.
Author Notes
Do you have the same problem and solution
© Marshall Gass. All rights reserved, 5 months ago
Jun 19, 2014
Jun 19, 2014 at 4:45 PM UTC
Love can cause elation
or the greatest kind of pain.
It wrecks lives in the process
and evolves a "human stain."
It is the one fulfillment
but when unrequited stings.
And agony is just a tithe
when losing loved ones brings.
Sep 8, 2017
Sep 8, 2017 at 9:05 AM UTC
Eavesdropping
A good man is hard to find
Said my Nana,
That was the day I saw tears in my nana’s eyes
As she nervously stuff her monthly tithe in the envelope
And headed out to church that Sunday morning
Before, shouting at my granddad
I guess she was mad as hell at the old fool
That was the day I found out that my hero my grandpa
Was having an affair with the widower Estelline Beckley
“Ellie you’re the only woman for me said my Granddad”
However, my Nana wasn’t haven’t any of that
So she slammed the door on Grand dad
I remember being scare, and confused,
About this family feud
So, I hid under the table, and prayed to God
for the scream and shouting to be over
For several weeks all my Nana did was prayed
And all Granddad done was to burnt her pots and pans
Boiling water and making coffee.
Nana told the neighbors, that those harlot with a trail
For a rear end,
can cause a man to climbed, a mountain without his proper gears
That statement still baffles me until this day.
Until many years later when I met my mother’s sister
here in New York the spit and image of my mother.
But had the very spirit and expression of my Granddad
so much for eave dropping and family affair
Jun 12, 2013
Jun 12, 2013 at 10:25 AM UTC
Let's debate morality
Or end-of-life finality
Let's discuss the totality
Of our finite time
Mortality
Stained-glass is splendid, though
Kneeling hurts my knees
Cathedral heights are wondrous
You must tithe and pay God's fees
Ten percent - twenty!
Please, always give them plenty
Clergymen will surely then
Be happy with their bounty
Jul 17, 2015
Jul 17, 2015 at 12:55 PM UTC
Lexical littorals illiterate foal
Talus and cirque shore and shoal
Iconoclast anarchy vortex knoll
****** matrix vertex peak
Semantic regalia flux and seek
Torrid allusions own and keep
Dichotomy paradox surge and swell
Primordial integumence purge and fell
Contiguity confluence dirge and knell
Reliquiae requiem show and tell
Accession assertion deliberative need
Transcendent ascension expiate seed
Subordinate ancillary exigency deed
Subliminal subjunctive sensorium seethe
Uxorious usury detinue blithe
Contiguous currency decimate tithe
Tractive proximity critical lithe
Delusory phantasm futurity kithe
Alacritous tactile acuity interstice
Accidence ambience resonance quipy pith
Scenario synopsis resilience gist
Endergonic protensive progressiveness rift
Prestissimo preterite retroactive gift
Poignant puissance piquant myth
Fable fantasticate legend list
Preternatural gesticulate proclivity pith
Propensity assimilate diabolical mist
********** fornicate zooidal mist
Parenthetical erudite erumpence fist
Quiescent gossamer lecherous wrist
Militant mercenary actuator aorist
Jul 8, 2015
Jul 8, 2015 at 8:04 PM UTC
I halve the flesh for leaf
And regret and retreat
This is Divinity; seize
What words He gives
And you are a Soul
And will never cease
Milky Novae, a ****** reborn
when you end breathing
Genesis, Revelations
Endocrines endocrines.
Or molecules that sin
Tithe the seed, breede; bleed
Hatred and war
From digesting protein
My body
For the remembrance of me
Jul 20, 2018
Jul 20, 2018 at 8:19 PM UTC
Users and abusers
come one and all
there is a freak show
down in the glass house
winos and crack heads
coke freaks and nitrous suckers
acupuncture skin punctures
and candy land pill poppers
*** heads and shroom munchers
users and abusers
one and all
come on down to church
in the basement of the glass house
wet your tongue in holy water
and revel the gospel of our lord and savior
(Insert dead pop culture icon here)
and don't forget to pay the tithe
to mother superior
Mar 25, 2013
Mar 25, 2013 at 1:16 PM UTC
I see you in the sky, at the park,
The beach, the trees, and everything existing.
My eyes glow with vengeance,
Me, that one and lonely lark.
These parasitical souls always stare.
Everyone can see, yet they say the same thing.
Infecting all those with a heart is your daily hobby.
By this time, the deepest crater forms
In my stomach, yet even so,
do not keep your mouth shut.
Freedom glows in the dark,
And it is pitch black. These
Intoxicated, pseudo democratized zombies
Engulfed the entire country.
Yes, one man is one vote
Is a romantic belief that infects most of us.
Forging a sincere democratic thought,
Was it passion for those buried centuries in the past?
U.S.A is the place to be if you have money,
Yet leave the weary and weak,
Hungry, and weak. America, certainly is no honey.
Riches of crazed beings is what they seek.
To feel any bliss at all, I must pay tithe.
Pass the furnace to my soul.
Apr 30, 2015
Apr 30, 2015 at 12:21 PM UTC
One hand is *****
Marked with the soil of hard work
Scraped knuckles that ache in the cold
One hand is *****
Tainted with bad blood
Permanent stains that cannot be washed
One hand is clean
But only to the human faith
And underneath it is as filthy as the others
Still people give their tithe
It is in vain
Nov 17, 2014
Nov 17, 2014 at 2:04 PM UTC
The Lord defeated death and taxes
after his stay on the Cross and
in the tomb.
Many mock God saying He did no such things;
as if God evoked (the pagan) Caesar,
preferring to pay
the continual tithe of worldly gain.
Build Caesar an empire, on the backs of men without self-government--and taxation without representation.
Subject only to Christ; man realizes.
© S. Wesley Mcgranor
Feb 4, 2015
Feb 4, 2015 at 3:16 PM UTC
Bless me, Father, for I have sinned.
I have to admit my weakness,
my inability to control my carnal urges.
I have reached again into the depths
of my cupboard where I have vowed
to never enter with a hungry stomach.
And so the temptation of linguine
and innocent tiny shells
crowded into my head
instead of heavenly angel hair.
I have faith that only you
can absolve me of my sins
and twenty pounds, more or less,
a 10% tithe to my Semolina God.
Then there is the matter of the cheese.
Forgive me, please.
Sep 26, 2009
Sep 26, 2009 at 4:39 AM UTC
rivers of salt; saccharine silicon and
iridescent nightmares;
kids carve their names into trees
because their concept of forever is
three summers forward;
entropy demands a tithe, a
forfeiture of lives; decimate your herds
and still
no, it is not enough.
know it is not enough.
don't keep your sweet little mouth
open too long; sugar attracts flies,
and pretty soon your
teeth will be teeming
with maggots and rot,
streptococcus sanguis
cheerfully wearing down your enamel
like you wore down my inhibitions.
"it'll be fun," you said, dropping
one hundred milligrams
on your tongue, firmly grasping the back
of my neck, and applying your lips to mine.
one hundred milligrams
slide down my throat, and despite myself,
I laugh, because even when I'm scared
I want to be with you.
the Black Angel is God On Earth; she is
lonely beyond belief, and I give her a hug.
people forget that monsters have
feelings too, and
God?
God is the biggest monster of them all.
God is entropy, and she is
unimpressed by the pyramids
on your dollar bills; she will devour
the stars and the planets and newborn
babies swaddled in blankets,
and she yet hungers:
redwoods and sequoias and aloe vera,
microchips and inkjets and MacBooks.
we are crowded around the bonfire,
s'mores and cheap liquor, your hand on
my thigh; the heavens have
opened up, drenching us
in starlight: I have never felt more
beautiful. you raise my wrist to your
mouth, placing a gentle kiss on my
scaphoid and my lunate; you swipe
your tongue across supple flesh
before clamping down with your teeth;
I am seeing stars and feeling lovely
and I am so, so enamored with you and
so, so happy you are here.
Oct 2, 2014
Oct 2, 2014 at 4:15 PM UTC
These days religion is a business
So I just pray at home when I feel dizziness
Hey,you asking me who this is?
Well...it's ziia in the flesh
With a wishlist
I wish:
That everything could go back to normal
When giving tithe was not informal
Not men of God driving fast cars
For breakfast having TV Bars
Take me back to the time
When man did not live by bread alone
But by every word uttered
By the Lord of hosts...
Mar 24, 2015
Mar 24, 2015 at 12:23 AM UTC
A myriad of views from the window pane
sparks buried memories.
August has always been that Augural Month
the time of Achromatic colours,
painted as crumbling stone walls
from a bygone Age.
Ice wine drank from the rind of the gourd
ranked sour, a season's poor worth -
nature's tithe ?
The colour of the meandering smoke
discernible from my window,
will count for more promises
like a laden Kaleidoscope apart.
Apr 22, 2012
Apr 22, 2012 at 8:44 AM UTC
Why does god hide in allegory when his creations need him most
and yet comes hands out with stories when collections need a host
Jan 11, 2015
Jan 11, 2015 at 10:53 PM UTC