"transgressor" 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
The man who rightly acts without coercion
Will not be grieved, can never wholly sink in wretchedness;
While the lawless criminal is forcibly dragged under
In the current of time when from the shattered mast
The elements rip down his sails.
He shouts, there is no ear to hear him
Struggling, hopeless, at the maelstrom's center.
Gods laugh at the transgressor now,
Watching him, his pride now wrecked,
Caught in desperation's shackles.
He flees the rocks in vain;
His fortunes smash on retribution's reef
And, unmourned, he is engulfed.
2.4k
I want to be better
Not mad or in anger.
Not giving pique to
Fellow strangers. Not
Giving self the world's
Own pleasures. Not being
Selfish in others letters.
Not being abundant in
Thoughts of me. Thinking
Not on tommorrow
But eternity.
God help me
Be the me
You created me
To be. I'm a
Human who
Has flaws
Mistakes
Have felt
Distrust
Done the
Heartbrakes.
I am ashamed
Of my past
Though want
To move ahead to the
Future and present.
I'm just a transgressor
Trying to overcome the
Darkened essence.
I am not a saint
I'm humbly a peasant.
Meaning poor in my actions.
But those shall change
No longer do I want
To be estranged from
Dios mío. I want to
Give him all
This is me
This is real.
Mar 22, 2016
Mar 22, 2016 at 11:36 AM UTC
Blank look on a sea of faces
Trying hard to ignore the world
and don't look into their eyes
for you invade their minds
and look with hatred upon you
the transgressor of their thoughts
Jan 25, 2017
Jan 25, 2017 at 1:52 PM UTC
When we err, it is of human design.
Words spoken unhindered, without forethought,
deeds are done, not meaning to undermine.
Are we that perfect that we err not?
Yet still, our honor, is then redefined.
To offer forgiveness, true from aloft,
it is two souls you have realigned.
Are we that perfect that we err not?
Bringing closure to all those thus entwined.
Not just the transgressor, relieved of a black spot,
you placed yourself on the side of divine.
Are we that perfect that we err not?
Dec 15, 2010
Dec 15, 2010 at 7:57 AM UTC
Can it be just love that tears our paper thin heart apart?
Can’t it be sorrow, or despair of mistreatment too that shreads the delicate *****
Can’t you see that demeaning probes and hineous accusations
are like fatal scabs that slowly halt the battered heart?
Must we be so inconsiderate with words and actions
thinking that the heart is only for romance
when Love encompasses a tantamount of relations of all spectrums.
Nay, this heart of ours
be it of gold if it were of a loving disposition,
be it of paper of the ones disappointment by Life,
be it of stone of those embittered by the harshness of Reality,
it beats and feels the emotions thrown upon it.
Intolerance kills the weak minded and destroys the barely stable;
it agonises the strong willed and is pitiful of those who display it.
Profanity and abuse are signs of the ones not wanting to give strength
rather to ****** the flickering flame of hope that had been stubbed within them.
Patience and compassion
are the signs of strength my dear
do not weep upon thy transgressor
but weep for your wounded heart
and when you’re done
seek strength by giving some in those equally damaged
and you’ll see the once dimmed light of your Life shine bright once more
don’t give way to hate
but love unconditionally
whether its a lover or a brother
love heals
violence does not.
Aug 6, 2018
Aug 6, 2018 at 4:40 AM UTC
The other night you said
You could never love like this again
Your stare piercing each vessel
As it squired uncomfortably
Underneath my skin
Everybody knows
Just exactly what it is I did
There’s no holds barred, now
and I plan to go down with my sin
She holds her breath
Praying she doesn’t see her again
It’s own sick form of torment
To the transgressor and the transgressed
Every time a car rolls by
“Has she come to take you, is the time here yet?”
For her it isn’t if, it’s when
I gave away what was not mine to squander
and You’ll call me a liar, worse yet
but For every shred
Of evidence I left
I too left the key for your vengeance
and I hope you’ll wield your weapon wisely
For this shot,
Its the last one I’ve got
So I ram the rod down the shaft
Compressing the powder
Lick my fingers clean
Of the filth I’ve wallowed in
I’d shed a tear, but what’s left is a monster
The girl I was, she won’t come back to haunt you
She’s given up too much hope for that
Feb 26, 2016
Feb 26, 2016 at 7:17 AM UTC
Images of a wanderer flood the the vision of my minds eye
heavy footsteps falling full of memories, dust kicked up and blown
by heavy, weighted, breaths with the rising and swelling of a chest
and in this chest there is no room for Him,
pain and parting have consumed the space,
the wreckage of decision, sealed shut the door for grace.
The face I recognize, and recoil at the eyes
it is I who hath no room for Him, but it is He who would not make a place.
Is not He the mighty one, of whom the ageless stories tell
who vanquished death and shut the gates of all the boiling throngs of hell?
And here am I a simple fool who hath no room a midst the throbbing of my pain.
If I not can make Him space, is that the end of all the God that ever was in me,
is this the end of all the light that ever aided men blind as I to clutch to see?
Oh Father, it all lays firmly on my head, I am the transgressor and the dead
but you were always more, more and more and more! Never lacking to overcome
all that my stubbornness ever had in store!
Now I am a wanderer again, and still, I rest my eyes upon the visage
of the one place where you are greater than, yet found sweetly in,
all that I have swallowed and defiled, broken and reviled
I rest my eyes to search once again for the clarity of place
a hill where truth still stands stretched from hollowness to home
a place where I can still be found and still be called your own.
Aug 12, 2013
Aug 12, 2013 at 10:38 PM UTC
A scuffed black mastiff entered stage left
Grumbling, growling, it pulled on its chain
It wretched and snarled, screaming for release
But it was beaten back by faceless master
It looked upon the watchers with eye of hell
Blood dripped from fresh made cuts and welts
There would be vengeance, the creature thought
As with hate, it looked toward the west
In stage right was a victim of a vicious world
A slave, a prisoner, beaten to the verge of death
A man once noble and just, forced into action
To protect all he had, he stole the bread
To prevent starvation, he fought authority
And now he was sentenced to humiliating decay
He would become the star of a roman play
That would be the last scene he’d perform
An order was given and the hound released
The dog was allowed to fill itself on the feast
Like death rising from below, the mastiff struck
Sinking razors into sweet warm muscled flesh
With back on the ground, the slave did not fight
And the mutt was confused by such a stance
Expecting a fight from his opponent, it waited
It waited with suspicion of the imminent strike
But the last flailing lashes would not fall
The transgressor would not fight one of his own
He saw in the beast, the same eyes as his son
And he understood the frustration of the beaten
The slave would not blame the simple dog
For his own faults, and the evils of the master
And the dog lessened the brutal assault it laid
Knowing that the one on the ground was friend
With dignity, they rose from the dirt together
The senators pondered as they looked on
The reason for the bond seemingly impossible
The lord infuriated ranted to his guards
Over such a refusal to die for the empire
The poor, the hungry, the oppressed rose
They fought back, chanting “We know why”
Why the man went to sleep with the dogs
He went to bed to be rid of the fleas
Sep 20, 2010
Sep 20, 2010 at 12:11 PM UTC
God labored on his six day creation plan
On the seventh he took rest as a working man
For to bring into existence nature's many beautiful things
His magnificent mind had exerted its wondrous visionary springs
As God stood back and saw that it was good
Adding man into the neighborhood
Placing on him all of its worth
Fully in charge of this Mother Earth
Tending to the vegetation and grand rivers with a hand of responsible care
In the glory which God gave his flock a share
Being his custodians bought unto them an obligatory task
That in each new day they could brilliantly bask
But alas what happens when you put man in charge
The head on his shoulders tends to get rather large
Then you add sneaky Satan into the mix
And it's pretty much been a down hill run with his malevolent fix
A cursed torment he bestowed on the divine Earth's ring
God's people wandered from their sublime path of conserving
A shepherd's voice was needed to call them back to their reside
Where nature's best interests did preside
Something only God can to the least of these perfect
To carry his vision is a burden on mankind's back
But God's love shall turn the wrong doers defiant track
So the world can be beautified in blessed anointment
To get back to perfection that he's always designed
But this time to do it all through the Son of God acting as the undersigned
Sitting at God's right hand man's intercessor
Who'll ever be the Savior of the sinning transgressor
Jul 25, 2015
Jul 25, 2015 at 8:34 AM UTC
His whole life
A murderer
Liar
Thief
Gambler
Cheater
Debtor
Dealer
Idolater
Coveter
Sinner
Was dying his final death
Upon his hospital slab
As he confessed his immortal transgression's
To God who hath been waiting for this old sinner
To repenteth for a long time......
Jun 27, 2015
Jun 27, 2015 at 10:31 PM UTC
if do what thou wilt
is to be the whole of the law
what of the inevitable transgressor
an eye for an eye
is just the blind leading the blind
but minds leading minds is no better
May 10, 2016
May 10, 2016 at 5:07 PM UTC
That morning in 12-step
Heart filled with remorse
Why had her life taken
This punishing course
Why had she been given
These trials and this pain
More sorrow than gladness
More dry spell…than rain
She felt undeserving
God’s love or His care
So much of her past life
Just hadn’t been fair
Disabled and damaged
Distressed and abused
Would He ever welcome
A daughter this bruised
Then the leader held up
A ten dollar bill
It was torn on one edge with
A syrupy spill
Who wants it he asked them
Will anyone here
Accept this old ten spot
That’s stained in root beer
He didn’t seem startled
When each hand raised high
And each one called ‘I will’
In synchronized cry
Then taking the greenback
He crumpled it tight
And stomped to the carpet
With all of his might
Then once more he asked them
An arch in his brow
While holding it forward
Well, how about now?
It’s ***** and wrinkled
Do any of you
Still want this ten dollars
With all it’s been through?
Again each hand raised up
And each one said 'yes'
Each one understanding
It wasn’t worth less
In spite of its treatment
It hadn’t decreased
In what it could buy them
No, not…in the least
So now my dear sisters
Their leader explained
Each one in this classroom’s
Been rumpled and stained
Each one has experienced
The struggles of earth
But none has diminished
In what she was worth
Each one has been damaged
And each one is flawed
But the worth of each sister
Is precious to God
The Savior’s atonement
Is proof of that fact
For God sent Him down to
Make up what each lacked
He sent someone perfect
To save someone not
Which makes you all priceless
Despite what you’ve thought
That night she was dreaming
And listened enthralled
To angelic voices
Then heard her name called
'Who wants her?' was broadcast
Will anyone here
Accept her into this
Celestial sphere?
No one seem startled
When two from on high
Said they would accept her
In synchronized cry
Then once more the angel
An arch in his brow
While showing her earth life
Asked 'how about now?
She’s been both a victim
And transgressor, too
Are you sure that you want her
With all she’s been through?'
Again both the Father
And Son called out 'yes'
Each one demonstrating
She wasn’t worth less
In spite of life’s treatment
Her worth hadn’t decreased
To two such as they were
No, not…in the least
Mar 8, 2016
Mar 8, 2016 at 3:10 PM UTC
Heal the world with your magical touch O Savior,
Your supreme creation has become tired and ill.
For the sake of the old and the new
You come down,we have become weak.
We realised our wrongdoings as we have darkened your blue sky..
We choked your mighty oceans with plastics.
We filled your pure air with toxic fumes
We made your green world barren
Now we deserve to be rebuked
We are your transgressor
Our mistakes are unpardonable
Our sins are grave
But O Lord!
We need your forgiveness for those who have done good,
Sheltered the needy and saved the sick and offered food.
We need you for those who are born today
We need you for the mankind to stay.
Come down O Krishna in any form as we are in deep pain,
Come down ... O bountiful we need you again!!
Bina Mukherjee
May 21, 2020
May 21, 2020 at 1:30 AM UTC
there was a time when I carried a light in my eyes
bound together and stacked so high
my soul was carried through the highest of skies
then in one mass motion it all collapsed to the depths of the ocean
am I the reason for all of my mistakes
am I the one who has built these walls
i fear for what I will become when the earth begins to shake
I'm building up these walls
making sure they stand tall just so I can watch them fall
hoping that one day
these walls that I have built
they will stand for something greater
than keeping the flood waters out
but to control
these internal flames
the ones that I call guilt
for if I rebuild what I have torn down
I prove to myself to be a transgressor
in my mind
i am ****** to an eternity of negativity
with nothing but the darkness as my assessor
Mar 7, 2016
Mar 7, 2016 at 11:16 PM UTC
a battle in my nerves;
swords dripping of an ochre of angst;
was I to be the stern queen commanding wisely,
my dispositions
Or was I to be the resolute soldier riding into fate's deeper wounds
a rebel flying high, the transgressor riding free
was I to be
was I not to be
Feb 8, 2016
Feb 8, 2016 at 11:38 PM UTC
Malicious hearts will hurt the empath
As summer hurts the winter shore
Eroding buffers until burnout
Kind retreat, the only cure
--
End-of-summer beach
Seabirds’ shaky screech
Grey gulls too full to cry
Bin chooks too fat to fly
Sorry shoreline
Systems offline
Foot pounded
Rebounded
Flattened…
Shrub ripped
Wing clipped
Sand-sucked
Grass plucked
Party bruised
Cocktail-cruised
Cans on conches
Fish unconscious
Foam and flotsam
Wave-blind coxon
Soda can crab shacks
Neon pink algae tracks
Whelk shell graveyard
Absent lifeguard
**** platoons
Naked dunes
Cheapened
Weakened
Exposed…
Tidal hangover
Coastal leftover
Erosion potluck
Sitting sea-duck
Strong incoming storm surge
Winter solstice land purge
Quick and shifty beach thieves
Cyclone tempest mouth-breathes
Recalcitrant brackish aggressor
Intransigent briny transgressor
Suspensions of sediments modified
Walling and breakwaters compromised
Over, back, and whitewash makers
Bubble, rubble, boil and breakers
Weathered, not weathering
Tempered, not tempering
More block than gavel
More grave than gravel
All prisoner no guard
Grain short of a shard
Receding sand-line drift
Intensive shoreface-lift
Patient unresponsive
Highly hypertensive
Code cerulean blue…
Plant encouragement
Shoreline nourishment
Sand transplant
Grass implant
Healing hiatus
to homeostasis
Swell subsiding
King Tide presiding
Prince Neap succeeds
Warm court accedes
Managed realignment
Sanctuary assignment
Steadfast protections
Timid reconnections
Gentle, careful, soft,
and slow…
A new beach visitor
dips their toe
Oct 21, 2024
Oct 21, 2024 at 4:23 AM UTC
Injustice for justice is injustice to all.
Untrue for truth holds no weight in the eyes of honesty.
So those that seeks both must fight on.
Cover up, only last so long.
One discovered the transgressor is gone.
Blaming others for their wrongs.
Fight on, for justice.
Fight on, for rights.
Fight on, against naysayers afraid to stand up for anything.
Just fight on!
Aug 16, 2016
Aug 16, 2016 at 9:04 AM UTC
I woke up on the sofa again
Dream-weight bearing past traumas
Looking ever backwards
Gauping at my own flaws.
I woke up on the sofa again,
Etchings of past misdemeanors
Losing purchase on the walls
And floating around the room.
I woke up in a frenzy
To remove the LED haze,
Whatever it was I was doing
Was now done yesterday.
I woke up delirious,
Not knowing who I was
For everything that I had been
Had now been repossessed.
It's a funny thing realising
That part of you is gone
Waking up on the sofa
With a need to hurry on.
I woke up on the sofa again
With a sense of worthlessness,
Reflecting on the regularity
Of my boundaries being crossed.
I woke up on the sofa again
And slowly trudged to bed
Like an extra in the background,
A dream that's died a death.
When I awoke I realised
The misdemeanors were lesser,
I wondered through the streets
And saw not one single transgressor.
I stopped a couple in the store
Who talked about their summer,
And saw a woman with her dog
Admiring a passing runner.
As the polyester jackets floated past
And shoes scuffed the fallen canopy,
I saw that movement made people happy,
That the sofa was no place for me.
Sep 19, 2023
Sep 19, 2023 at 11:25 AM UTC