"tithing" poems
**† † †
A quorum of biblical scholars
turned their doubts into thousands of dollars.
Armed with Document Q
they revealed nothing new
but the dirt neath’ the white of their collars.
A proud “health & wealth” Oklahoman
was renowned as a gospel-tent showman.
While the scriptures he twisted,
their tithing assisted
his rise from poor hick to rich Roman.
A sexually diverse professor
(assured he was not a transgressor)
spoke only of openness
glossing sin’s brokenness;
rainbows and tolerance—yes sir.
A Mormon, who lost his own ephod
Realized he was running quite slipshod
and invoked Joseph Smith.
(Yes, it may be a myth—
but it’s not like misplacing your I-pod…)
A Christian whose faith was prophetic
held to views that were truly pathetic.
This crazed Pentecostal,
not quite an apostle,
had taken an End-Times emetic.
A sober and staid Presbyterian
was distrustful of thoughts millenarian.
After smoking some bud,
he awoke with a thud;
in his sleep he’d become Rastafarian.
A preacher who fleeced his disciples
overdrew his own balance of scruples.
He was finally captured
(defrocked and un-raptured)
and rent by his destitute pupils.
A sister who waxed Pentecostal,
mistook herself for an apostle.
Speaking pure glossolalia
she sure could regale ya’
with prophecy; crazy—but docile.
Sep 11, 2015
Sep 11, 2015 at 8:12 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/
Apr 13, 2012
Apr 13, 2012 at 9:27 AM UTC
365Nectar #42 Don't Be Judging Me
Mon. November 4, 2013 8:26 P.M.
Volcanic velvet voices
vibrate the night
like thunder in the distance.
Booming Bassmen
blaze and burn
like ****** fire on a dark corner
in the dingiest part
of a rumbling city that never sleeps.
Sensual saxophones shudder
singing prayers of saints and sinners
while hot horns hypnotize
in perfect high compression swirls
tithing in the holy temple
of Jazzy Blues.
An alluring flutter
of silken harmonies.
A spine tingling spike
of don't be judging me jazz filled blues.
Scorching strings splinter
melancholy prison walls.
Stomping out a seismic sizzle
tempermental tones of
tickling trumpets
torch the menacing hurricanes of life
with warm rushes of excitement.
A spine tingling spike
of don't be judging me jazz filled blues.
"Take Me" Vixens tantalize
tucked up crowds
with thrilling tongue lashes
of silken harmonies.
A spine tingling spike
of don't be judging me jazz filled blues.
Full flaring flutes
gently ****** with inquisitive fingers
and stir a groan
like a religious ritual.
A playful teasing
floating enticingly
like a sly fox.
Such a succulent piercing
of moonstruck madness
pulsing mercilessly
leaving fields of fire
of a funky boogie menace
for a wild child.
An alluring flutter
of silken harmonies.
A spine tingling spike
of don't be judging me jazz filled blues.
Copyright ©2013 Don't Be Judging Me
Nov 11, 2013
Nov 11, 2013 at 11:52 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
The legere sacristy of pure love blazing
Feline confluence across ethereal plains
Arched angelic collusion of things sepulchral
The arcane occidere travisty of
Transmogrification canonized
Darkling eminence ordained;
The verity aura of radiance
Twilights tidal blood- dye magenta,
Germane sleek meagre wealth chiming lo!.
Finitudes golden prayer draping flounded
Brutality tithing the zenith with mealy
Doer aptitude majestically turbulent
Sacrificing thoriums weld feudal
Of heavens deceitful soothsayers,
Fellow djinn of Gotterdammerung
Soli of vilest stoic jingoism.
ELEETE J MUIR.
Dec 16, 2012
Dec 16, 2012 at 7:07 AM UTC
Turn the lights off so that I may know you
In this safe space, I invite you to indulge in our mutual vulnerability
Feel protection in my arms as I guard your heart
As I keep it warm between our chests
Set your gaze to mine while you share with me your aspirations
I yearn to experience them through the windows to your soul
Share with me your fears so that I may put them to rest
May this bed be a holy and sacred place for us
May this bed be our confession booth free from ridicule
May this bed be a tithing basket for you to receive love with no boundaries
In this bed, allow divine pleasure to overwhelm you
Let your ****** match the depth of your trust
Let your tears turn to sweat that trickles down the valley of your spine
Let your ****** fluids baptize you; cleanse you of any guilt
Share with me your spiritual awakening
As I receive communion with your raw, unfiltered, liquified emotion running down your body
Toss out your bible, for the only religious text I need is your diary
Allow me to tie every inch of your glorious body to a memory
I wish not to **** but to love
I wish to fulfill all your fetishistic urges
For I know they are tied to a psychological yearning
By the end of the night I wish to know every inch of your flesh
I want the knowledge to be accompanied by the memories that make you, you
And if I fail, there's always round two after we cuddle
Tyler Castro
3/19/17
Mar 20, 2017
Mar 20, 2017 at 2:11 AM UTC
How can it be so wrong to love you?
When being loved by you is possibly the best feeling in the world
How can they tell me that my love for you is just a phase,
A mistake that they can pray away
When you and I are the only ones who truly know just how strong our love for each other is
At night I lie awake in bed
Tears streaking my cheeks
Like raindrops streaming down the stained glass windows of the church
As I pray for God to paint us into something holy
And when I finally fall asleep
I dream of your touch
Of your arms wrapped around me
I dream of how your lips would feel against my cold skin as you whisper sweet nothings to me
Oh how lovely your skin would look in the moonlight
And to just be able to listen to you ramble on about anything and everything
Your biggest regrets, your proudest moments, your darkest secrets and in return I tell you my own
And we won’t even care because it will just be the stars listening in, collecting our secrets like tithing
Your voice is by far my favorite melody
Perhaps even more beautiful than the church hymns that I grew up singing
So my love, please do not wake me
For in my dreams is the only time that I can truly be with you the way that I long to be.
Jun 5, 2016
Jun 5, 2016 at 2:26 PM UTC
If one is prepared to believe the Bible
rather than prosperity gospel
from Church & Mamon Inc.
then it's plain to perceive
that the mark of the beast
could cost one's place in God's Kingdom
so do please explain Mr Megachurch Mogul
why your bottom line reflects money
rather than shares in the Kingdom of Heaven
Do you intend to outsource the mark ?
so business can continue as usual ...
will you partner with the bank
of the beast who's about due
Must Yeshua bring out His whip again ?
before you take Him at His Word
and stop misapplying His tithing law
like cursed, charismatic pharisees
that keep the despairing
in ******* and tickle ears
with falsehoods rather than help them
trim their lamps and get ready
for the wedding feast of the Lamb
Seems the great 'falling away' referred to
in 2Thes2v3 in truth is not rapture after all
but failing churches built on sand
Jun 3, 2010
Jun 3, 2010 at 2:03 AM UTC
I’ve stepped out of the car
and into this familiar scene
hundreds of times.
Only the details change.
I no longer bike down the hill,
past the pecan trees,
and throw white rocks
into the stream.
I don’t race through pastures
along the thin paths
whittled into the earth
by the hooves of the herd.
I gave up trying to beat
nails into wooden rejects,
making thingamajigs
and doohickeys.
I used to criticize the stiff pews
and cringe at the red crushed velvet.
I diverted my eyes
from the forty tithing members.
Now all the bikes are broken
and the pecans withered away.
The stream has dried up
and the rocks are *****
I no longer want to run
and the paths are faded.
The cattle have been sold
and the pastures overgrown.
I only use hammer and nail
to make practical things,
and even those
are not really worth making.
I sit and accept the message,
upright and alert.
I shake the hands of the congregation
and look them in the eye.
Only the details change.
May 2, 2010
May 2, 2010 at 7:34 PM UTC
Fire: A Commissioned Poem
Deceptive appearance,
Countless predecessors,
Poems built on towers of strength,
Of and on
Fire..
Who am I,
A beleaguered working poet
Dared and daring,
To add to what Dante
Already has writ,
Has fire, his, not ennobled
All man's fears and lives.
What new can this temporal man add, on something so holy as
Fire?
On the altar in the Temple,
My ancestors brought sacrifices,
Guilt offerings for sins committed,
Asking for real forgiveness from a deity unseen,
They set themselves on fire,
Through animal sacrifices.
Let us not critique them by standards of today.
Let me celebrate their faith, their truth that
Asking for forgiveness required sacrifice,
Not just tithing, not just check writing,
But by acknowledging that they understood,
That nothing is for truly real until
It has been crucibled of, in,
Fire.
Nov 3, 2013
Nov 3, 2013 at 6:31 AM UTC
Of course,
I am dropping my metal coins into the slot on the carved-cross box,
floating paper dollars into the passed around basket,
paying rent for the reading of The Gospel
& of course,
attempting to buy my salvation
with my hard-earned-mammon,
which of course,
the colorfully robed-folks love so much
and seem to get so easily.
Mar 14, 2014
Mar 14, 2014 at 5:34 AM UTC
I keep running, running, running
A young girl trying to find her place in the world
A grown woman trying to be respected for who she really is
I look back at the past and
Down on the present
And hope to God that the future gives me something to look up to
Family curses trink’ling trails of hate in my blood
Reminders of loved ones who were hurt by ones they loved once
Inspirations inspiring me to keep chasing my dreams but reality is …reality
I wake up and wonder what proactive thing I can do today
But reality is reality.
And reality smacks me down and says “nothing”
I’m not a pessimist but I bear a weight with the wield of the world as its stamp
Its not on my back but its on my sisters’ back. It not in my home but its in my brothers’ home
Reverberating in my mind the terrible wonders of the world
Feeling ignorant, not knowing how to help
I read the world news to find out what to do
And lo’and behold a “disabled puppy can only walk in circles”
WHAT?!
Darfur must be a myth and I guess AIDS isn’t “in” anymore
I keep thinking..wait till I’m established
Wait till I’m out of this rut
My life will be holy and pure and intelligent. giving and tithing and..happy and busy…and.. **** and rich?
Cause that’s how it should be right?
Confusing
Why cant I be a soul sistah with locs that likes to listen to rock and give spoken word wearing knit hats and demanding answers? Then go home and maybe watch some anime.
I’m conflicted
I’m disdainful
I’m selfish
I’m vehemently out to get what I want because my forefathers died trying to get it for me
And you know what? I’m gonna get it, because while all this crap goes on in my brain and in my heart , in my family and in the world. Its going to stay at my heels because I keep running, running, running
Aug 26, 2014
Aug 26, 2014 at 10:32 PM UTC
Three weeks latter she was in town to buy some snacks
And out of no where came a voice from an one eyed crone
Beware of the full moon's curse
It now belongs to you
She clutched tight her purse
Then turned and ran right out of her shoes
That night she checked her calender, circled the date of the full moons rising
Bought some handcuffs, attaching one end to the old metal radiator
Went to church on Sunday prayed and paid all her tithing
She would fight this curse with all her being, just like a gladiator
On that night long before the sky turned pink signaling the sun's escape
She clicked the cuff around her wrist
The full moon rose, her body started to reshape
She sprouted thick white hair, her body contorted and twist
Her ears started to protrude, the mouth stretched into a long snout
Long razor sharp teeth punched through
Miles away people heard a howling shout
And those handcuffs were of no use, she easily snapped them into
Now shes on the prowl, looking for food
Lookin for a pack
Don't go into the woods on a full moon she'll be stalking you
For her the deck is stacked
Mar 30, 2016
Mar 30, 2016 at 6:00 PM UTC
No more to write another word
of my merry making
Or place you in the crescent moon
and tell the maids you're taken.
Take the ink from in my mind
and stopped my fingers writhing?
I'll think the biggest thoughts of God
then place you in the tithing.
If all the paper turned to beads
and all the threads unraveled-
I'd weave a poet's deepest fear-
in the darkest places traveled.
We are not the whispered tale.
Ours did not skip fleeting
It leaked its way
through pulse and vein-
to drum the story beating.
I have you in the scar on knees-
that leaves a child sorrow.
You have me in the set alarm
that gives one more tomorrow....
If I stopped a thief from stealing
if I stop a ship from sail,
If I stop a bride from blushing
take a train from off the rail:
If you take my words and wrap
them in the perfect silken bow
this lovers tongue, you will still hear-
this soul, you will still know.
Sahn
3/8/15
Mar 10, 2015
Mar 10, 2015 at 12:15 AM UTC
Mother birds at home,
Their babies are too young to die
Why did their children fly away?
Away in metal shells,
Forgetting feathers to cushion their fall
Cold blooded snakes bearing symbols
Stole their baby birds,
Ate their innocence,
And threw them at their enemies
To win ashes left from beauty,
beauty slithering beasts cannot obtain
The snakes are poisoned
Their leader: dead
His skin and all that mattered: shed.
And now the little birds must be slain
By enemies they'd not wished to gain
And fly away, they must
In their hulking metal shells
Carrying as many others
Underneath their arms
But whom do they choose to carry off?
Few they can help,
Thousands more; forced to stay,
Thousands they wouldn’t have to cry for,
Thousands they wouldn’t have to remember in sharp obsidian dreams,
Thousands they wouldn’t have to gun their engines
And run over, to save they few they could
If snakes hadn’t stolen them away
Cry no more;
Create feathers from metal,
Though they may at first cut your fingers
Take,
If nothing else,
Hope from endings,
And the strength to fly
after falling
Mother birds wish for their chicks to live beyond them
To a new horizon they born to see
They coo in their nests,
Shocked and unable to cry out in pain
Tithing new mothers and their newborns a wish,
To live lives that are long
For all are young
Who see hope slain
And purpose undone
Nov 20, 2012
Nov 20, 2012 at 5:36 PM UTC
Fall to be
Life, a sea
To freely see
So calling me
Feeling leaves
Crunching frees
When, but tithing
The freest breeze
Is but every,
Astounding thing
Maybe a remedy
Cradling dreams
glowing streams
Foggy sheens
Making these
Diamond seams
Echoes seem
Frailer things
Which beauty brings
Castigating, floating beings
Though without,
The warmth they bring
Though within,
Melodies teem,
with no strings
Welcoming.
I was glad
Just to have seen
Sep 16, 2014
Sep 16, 2014 at 12:43 AM UTC
Hot day corrosion- by me... Sweaty confusion dampers the thought of many, some empty some friendly!!!day rise to sunset sensual...
Mutual attraction_ where art tho to make tea for with cubes of ice? No wrong all right. !!!A cooling glass with a northern chill...get your fill..
The wooded steps seem pearly beaded, brown rotted and greeted! With watchers at the bottom......
Some areas you can walk out a foot, others eight to ten...riverbank bend!!!
Take me downstream you goddess bleached in tithing bush...our souls with turn to mush, five we may be again? How a loving thought eh?
Born tomorrow, I died today! For the clock strikes almost 12!!!!!!! Ding!ding!ding!ding!
Silently midnight approaches and no lover in sight! Could the map quest be broken soo soon?
May 9, 2015
May 9, 2015 at 10:14 AM UTC
My perturbed being paid huge negligence to my pen and paper meant to write a sonnet
For I'm drown in my own thoughts as I watch the sunset.
Thinking, how can I bring down this Jericho wall when I can't even blow my own trumpet
From afar,a chick called for its mother
Children taking turns to skip a gutter
I shifted my gaze upward pondering on the sky and it calligraphy
But there was more on my mind other than topography
Gone where the days when all we had were prophecies and signs
Now we have the proofs- earthquake, war, diseases , high rate in crime
Human uses human for nefarious and bohemian mischief
Acquiring a high decree in insalubrious acts and call it prestige
****** masochism,incest,homosexuality,best iality,and with many severe strokes,
we've axed,hewn down and fall our hardest ethical timbered-oak
Immorality is now human right,transgender speciation is now technology.
Ostensibly, compartmentalize values and virtues are now seen as folk
Culminating this malady is 'Spurious Pentecostalism'-an acute locution for the aggrandize ecclesiastical new age religion loosely espy as ' born again ' movements
Which beget an avalanche of licentious sermons of grace extremists,
stealthily engaging in the defamatory of the Scripture.
The only exception is the law of tithing and offering.
As clerical entities,sharply dressed,suave,bogus televangelist
dispenses false miracles and prophesies of untold wealth to there flock
in return for their votive offerings
Take heed that no man deceive you (Matthew 24:4)
I Emmanuel sound it loud and clear
CHRIST JESUS IS COMING VERY SOON !
Aug 27, 2016
Aug 27, 2016 at 4:16 PM UTC
What becomes of a soul when it finds true
Its whole is less than the sum of its parts
Seeking blood through a flame, heated and blue
And meter finds this anew when prose starts
Soliloquy, a phobia, a thought
Is everything a callous writhing
Such as this imagination has wrought
And all we see is red, this old tithing
As I was struck by fire with no way out
I knew that I was trapped, and still I found
That none were there to hear my silent shout
As my voice hidden by glass had no sound
And they weren't there to shatter, hear my pain
The flame was a soul, a heart stolen twain
Jan 7, 2013
Jan 7, 2013 at 11:03 PM UTC
I remember
When She Put the Devil Card
Under Her Seat
Tithing Season Then
Nothing Coming In
A Sign ... Not Meant to Be Seen
Practitioners Sworn to Truth
Do Not Use Curse
Unless ....They Believe in "Wrong"
Let's Say
"Wrong"...Her Power
Turned Double on Its Head
For Assistance
Risky... So Very Risky
A Magic Card
For a New Thot
Aug 10, 2016
Aug 10, 2016 at 11:21 PM UTC
my lover
fashioned from old dirt
and bones buried
broken and brittle in the earth
painted so sparingly in gold
she is chipping all of such a thin coat
my lover
would start to wither, watered wine
I take her pains, tithing my time
her scent as sycamore and pine
to cut the wormwood from her twine
I love her
I will be with her, if it's fine
Feb 20, 2018
Feb 20, 2018 at 10:14 AM UTC
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Priesthood...LionQuest
COUCH ALLENS
12/13/17
to samikoku
Priesthood LionQuest…
Ultra-Gifted…New tonques audible
Utterances to an Expected EnD; Under a deserving
PRAISE…; Quantifying of every deposits=SovereignPRODUCTS
….;7SPIRITCHANTS….;SQUAD-IN-ARKCORPORATION MERCHANDISE THE SPIRITPROGRAMS IN THE INVOCATION
INSIGHTS-IQ TITHING EXPLOITS….SURPLUSINTERESTS
….THE FAITH RENDERING DECENT
….MENUINNOVATION THE PRIORITY OF MANY EXPERTISE
…PILGRIMSFACES REPLACING-ISSUES APPLAUDS.
Visibly decorated in the confronts overwhelming-nutrient…;
STRONGGOD Proven translation into HEAVENSBUOTANCY…
Recurring “Genetic-Going’ in the reality PUSHDIVINITY…: Unveiling
The universality of discipleship mightily in the EMBODIMENT OF
GODLY “Stocks-Attributes” The voted all virtues votes at infancy of
REDEPOSITES TAMED EXCELLENCIES OF AUDIBLEDOUBLE OATHS…;Quantifying believers deposition of interpretations…;Aided in the all “Potential-Pattern-Potency’ The Ego 9 SPIRITPROOF/ SailingColors/ ViSIONANALYSIS/ RHEMA REACHING ****** DEEPNUGGING DISCOVERIES IN THE INDISPENSABLE TESTIMONIAL…;Reception rescues Advisory in GOSPELTHRILL
CHOSEN THE CORRELATIVE-FORCES…;RESOUNDING THE GOSHEN
CONTINUUM/ YIELDING INCREASESCREATE….;
BOSS-BREATHES PREVALENCE....'
YOUR HEAVENS ACCUMULATION-GUIDANCE,
SESSIONS 'STAFF' A WHOLE ROYALTY CROWN CREST:
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Jun 13, 2018
Jun 13, 2018 at 8:57 AM UTC
the needling breath
of forested speech, an echo
of the way we bend
the drive to appease
the mouth of serenity
revives the scant scent
to take inward
in drams of swallowed tithing
spiraled blood writhing
spread of skeletal
rise, of ancient hymns of birth
rooted vibration
the WHO in the hollow drowns
the wonder of the stretched ear
Apr 15, 2021
Apr 15, 2021 at 10:26 PM UTC