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Marshal Gebbie Jan 2010
Gunboats ahoy there’s pirates about
Speeding from Somali’s shore,
A fast flimsy boat and some black skinny men
With grenade launchers, cannon and more.
They’re coming to capture the tankers
They’re coming to capture the crew
They’re coming to take you hostage
Because fat cats will pay cash for you.

It’s happening more every day now
Ships are held to ransom for gold,
This contagion is out of hand now
The Somalian pirates are becoming so bold.
Hard men in the west prepare crackdowns
Gunboats sail for the Gulf as we speak,
With instructions to shoot to **** now
And make eradication of pirates complete!

But you ask, why is this happening?
Why does a man, a pirate become?
What instigates this crazy morphosis
From fisherman to pirate with gun?
Somalia has no Government to speak of,
It collapsed and went long ago.
No law or army in place here,
Life is dangerous, chaotic and low.

Some fat cats made use of the vacuum
They ditched toxic waste in the sea
They irradiated the coastline region
Making this a poisoned place to be.
The coast folk were dying in thousands
Sick mothers lost babies and kids
Black illness spread madly in villages
Then blind panic and pain hit the skids.

Some fat cats made use of the vacuum
They trawled the coastline clean
Somalia’s fishermen were destitute
The catch went from vast to lean.
The villagers were starving and hopeless
And what was pain became death.
The leaders appealed for salvation
But those with the means, had turned deaf.

Who would take this problem on now?
Who would make these ******* pay?
Most turned around and shunned them,
The world had turned and looked away.
So hit transgressors where they’re vulnerable.
Strike in sea lanes where it’s free.
Hit them near the Horn of Africa.
Attack with blades of piracy.

Hooray for the small man’s justice.
Hooray for his skinny, black shanks,
Please God help their quest for deliverance
For the West has arrived with their tanks.

Now I ask you, in all fairness
To stand back and view the scene,
Where the richest and most powerful
are doing something that's obscene
For not only are they poisoning
The most vulnerable race on earth
But compounding it with genocide,
And I add, for what it's worth,

The West, in righteous arrogance,
are crushing poorest fellow man
In his struggle for survival
Against their mammoth, global hand.


Marshalg
@theGate
Mangere Bridge
25 April 2009
Elihu Barachel Dec 2014
Hey lovey-dovey christian, run and get your NIV
Read to me some verses, read them just for me
-
Show me how you live, "not by bread alone" [1]
But by every single Word, from God's Holy Throne
-
Especially if it's written, black words on paper white
Read them from the NIV, yes-sir-ee you fight the Fight!
-
Do you have a problem? Can't you find the verse?
Why oh is that? Your "bible" is accursed

[1] Matt AND Luke 4:4

++++

Matthew 12:47 -- removed in the footnotes
Matthew 17:21 -- COMPLETELY removed [also deleted from the Jehovah's Witness "Bible"]. What are you NIV readers missing?
"Howbeit this kind goeth not out but by prayer and fasting."
Matthew 18:11 -- COMPLETELY removed [also deleted from the Jehovah's Witness "Bible"]. What are you NIV readers missing?
"For the Son of man is come to save that which was lost."
Matthew 21:44 -- removed in the footnotes
Matthew 23:14 -- COMPLETELY removed [also deleted from the Jehovah's Witness "Bible"]. What are you NIV readers missing?
"Woe unto you, scribes and Pharisees, hypocrites! for ye devour widows' houses, and for a pretence make long prayer: therefore ye shall receive the greater damnation."
Mark 7:16 -- COMPLETELY removed [also deleted from the Jehovah's Witness "Bible"]. What are you NIV readers missing?
"If any man have ears to hear, let him hear."
Mark 9:44 -- COMPLETELY removed [also deleted from the Jehovah's Witness "Bible"]. What are you NIV readers missing?
"Where their worm dieth not, and the fire is not quenched."
Mark 9:46 -- COMPLETELY removed [also deleted from the Jehovah's Witness "Bible"]. What are you NIV readers missing?
"Where their worm dieth not, and the fire is not quenched."
Mark 11:26 -- COMPLETELY removed [also deleted from the Jehovah's Witness "Bible"]. What are you NIV readers missing?
"But if ye do not forgive, neither will your Father which is in heaven forgive your trespasses."
Mark 15:28 -- COMPLETELY removed [also deleted from the Jehovah's Witness "Bible"]. What are you NIV readers missing?
"And the scripture was fulfilled, which saith, And he was numbered with the transgressors."
Mark 16:9-20 (all 12 verses) -- There is a line separating the last 12 verses of Mark from the main text. Right under the line it says: [The two most reliable early manuscripts do not have Mark 16:9-20] (NIV, 1978 ed.) The Jehovah's Witness "Bible" also places the last 12 verses of Mark as an appendix of sorts.
Luke 17:36 -- COMPLETELY removed [also deleted from the Jehovah's Witness "Bible"]. What are you NIV readers missing?
"Two men shall be in the field; the one shall be taken, and the other left."
Luke 22:44 -- removed in the footnotes
Luke 22:43 -- removed in the footnotes
Luke 23:17 -- COMPLETELY removed [also deleted from the Jehovah's Witness "Bible"]. What are you NIV readers missing?
"(For of necessity he must release one unto them at the feast.)"
John 5:4 -- COMPLETELY removed [also deleted from the Jehovah's Witness "Bible"]. What are you NIV readers missing?
"For an angel went down at a certain season into the pool, and troubled the water: whosoever then first after the troubling of the water stepped in was made whole of whatsoever disease he had."
John 7:53-8:11 -- removed in the footnotes
Acts 8:37 -- COMPLETELY removed [also deleted from the Jehovah's Witness "Bible"]. It's deletion makes one think that people can be baptized and saved without believing on the Lord Jesus Christ. Sounds Catholic. What are you NIV readers missing?
"And Philip said, If thou believest with all thine heart, thou mayest. And he answered and said, I believe that Jesus Christ is the Son of God."
Acts 15:34 -- COMPLETELY removed [also deleted from the Jehovah's Witness "Bible"]. What are you NIV readers missing?
"Notwithstanding it pleased Silas to abide there still."
Acts 24:7 -- COMPLETELY removed [also deleted from the Jehovah's Witness "Bible"]. What are you NIV readers missing?
"But the chief captain Lysias came upon us, and with great violence took him away out of our hands,"
Acts 28:29 -- COMPLETELY removed [also deleted from the Jehovah's Witness "Bible"]. What are you NIV readers missing?
"And when he had said these words, the Jews departed, and had great reasoning among themselves."
Romans 16:24 -- COMPLETELY removed [also deleted from the Jehovah's Witness "Bible"]. What are you NIV readers missing?
"The grace of our Lord Jesus Christ be with you all. Amen."
I John 5:7 -- Vitally important phrase COMPLETELY removed [also deleted from the Jehovah's Witness "Bible"]. In the NIV it says,
"For there are three that testify:"
Compare the NIV reading with the following Jehovah's Witness reading--
"For there are three witness bearers,"
What are you NIV readers missing? What does the real Bible say?
"For there are three that bear record in heaven, the Father, the Word, and the Holy Ghost: and these three are one."
Michael Humbert Oct 2014
We’re quick to blame those that break our hearts,
Railing against lovers for our misfortunes,
Consigning them to hell and so forth,

When in reality,
Our oft exhausted and defeated transgressors
Serve merely as the catalyst for the internal destruction that follows

For no one impacts your emotional wellbeing as much as you,
And you birth your demons, your pain,
After ‘us’ is no more,
There is just you and your head,
An entity far more dangerous than any borne of flesh and blood

Do not judge those that hurt you,
For they are as foolish and human as you,
And remember that though
Love may linger and torment,
It is a reminder of what your heart can do,
When it’s met its match
Martin Narrod Aug 2017
Anything All of the Everything

Events of Summer quickly ensue, it takes hold of you quickly, while the police drive thru. You cannot find it half-way into the night, you could hold up on a park bench or lay your blanket on the slough. Perhaps when your dreams kick, your asterisks will come, build a map of your defense and then head for the sun. Some foe outwit the wounds of life, furry blister-like faces, when they take up the star dust diamonds, the trail guides take after hurrying up paces.

The festivities of fear are living oaths inside of marbled starve rocks, they harvest shoots and ladders, and keep tabs on wild beasts and livestock. There's no match throughout the campgrounds. There's no matchbook light to find us. If you're quick enough with your 70s, then perhaps you'll follow the nightness that's arrived us.

In aide of her lift-gate, shredding pensive miens and speeding mimes, taking ward of one thousand fathomed depths, assumes courageous anti-hate isms. She can come quickly with a syzygy, her van packed with fresh woes of Sunday, then around Monday humbly hides her stuff in the small hems of her bed linens. You can't outwit the governess who preys on handicapped children's thrift finds. She makes clothes and keeps her hands to bed. She bares new graves for time's new roman epithets and moving pictures. She  unplugs her bleeding tongues under some new sone for her monarchic archetypical audiophile party.

While the umberphiles sleep, nyctophiliacs stalk grizzlies. Mosquitos quaff at human blood, while their offspring keep drinking. The idle bugs throes, misanthropic and useless, teach electric lusters' mouths to grow into fiery hoops with which to slip past all the clueless.  The arachnids might dance, the haunting verbs they might fray. The Egyptians at first glance, try to hide their heroine pyramids away.

So hush little violet dormant flowers, fake your fertility and keep your skeptic drink. Keep each one you might meet, within one hundred feet of where you sleep. Keep your arms length's supine, your supplies out of reach, practice wrapping yourself up inside boxes where the souls can sleep.

If you only once catch a fool, avoid the plague-speak certain lips might tell. Each uttered word commanded with too much ******* across the bandwidth. Mortal courses can't be taught, human voices can't keep the draught, ferocious abstract engineered humanity has escaped this truant absence and immorality. You, you catch a fool, she could preach hurts and djinns, it could dot the I's of when, and unfurl the sighs of men. Berthed earthlings that the **** ascribes, hurts the worthless and sours true purpose widths of curfews and its curses, all these biomes perfervidly reserve the fury for their furtive perversity, elements to obscure the telemetry that has coddled such a dark conflagration of immensity, it's the cluelessness of these transgressors that forces the abhorrence towards all-white-everything professors.
While sitting in Grand Teton National Park at the entrance to Spalding Bay.
too much interference
has been extensively run
by those who hold
the kingmaker's gun

as a consequence
of this kind of thing
the democratic process
is under a clouded ring

the flow of votes
which were meant
for the out in front candidate
got subverted somewhere
in the ballot box's victory pate

foreign countries meddling
with other country's domestic autonomy
so the results of elections
will satisfy their sovereignty

transgressors are employing
their technics from nations far away
to determine who'll wear
a crowning array
Trevor Gates Jun 2013
From the skies came the howling screams
And the malevolent weather
Casting the hands of shadow over my world
The loveless giants and slack-jawed executioners
Laughing and drooling over the wicker baskets
Filled to the brim with severed heads
Faces frozen in the final moments of their
Demoralized longevity

While the others
The innocents and deceivers
Hung from the peeling trees
From their necks
Their bodies swaying with the
Winds of the howlers; the hoarders and rising dead
Ravens and winged monstrosities feasting on the
Available tissue of those left behind in the dusk
Of lesser men and greater demons

I wept and cowered like never before
In the swelling, audacious fields of fallen brothers and sisters
The air was moist
The earth was damp
I pulled the black garments of butchered priests
Over my coarse back
Covering my punishment from the eyes of God
And his Angels
His divine bystanders
And jealous endeavors

Draped in the cloth of the papists  
Drenched in the accumulated fluids of the slain
I wandered the wastelands with no name
No home
No family
No soul in the moment of sought mercy

The drying of blood and tears hardened the stain cloth
Against my healing body
Pulsing and throbbing over my senses
Turning me into something more
A vile and vengeful entity
Walking among the land of the dead
A ****** of my sanity

Through the cascading water dripping from the sky
Souls and ghosts of the battlefield
Clung to me, touching my feet and hands
My path was followed by the impaled
The disemboweled and the murdered
For the name of such clerical disambiguation
Promising to be absolved for the crimes against His name

I wandered from the true path

I came to the cliffs above and looked over the carnage
Of a 1000 warriors and people all sewn together
In the skin of the earth.

Riding a phantom steed over the trampled bodies
Clad in otherworldly armor
And sweltering chains
The Horsemen of War walked
Among the covet children of his wrath

Not even knowing if I still roam the land of the living
I proceeded down from the cliff
And approached the Rider of War.

His crimson helmet hid his face.
Horns protruded from his brow
He carried a blackened shield
and a fiery Sword crafted from the pits of Hell

Striking his sword into the mound of dead
Rivers of blood soaked into his blade
It fed off the butchered, the murdered
The mutilated, the skewered, the molested
The sodomized, the swallowed, the reaping
The cowards, the fools, the thieves
The liars, the transgressors, the headless
The victims, the prey, the engorged
The envious, the gluttonous, the wrathful
More and more of the blood, the souls and the mess
Collected and gathered into the sword
Feeding the beast, the instrument of war
Fueling another plague of sinister dismemberment
On a once green land of kings and sires.

I picked up a walking stick from the woods
Walking through a darkened world
Where another noble shall claim me
As his moniker of death
In service to **** more men
God’s children
Mother Earth’s children
Who rip a part of each other with metal and teeth
Against the palms of titans and angels

All gambling on our victory or defeat
Where lives and words are mere tokens
It is not our lamentations or penance that is counted

Can I bear the attrition of my own nightmares?

Clad in the shredded papal garments
Soaked in hardened blood

I shall roam and absolve.

Whoever is worthy
In the bleak war of man
And his End.
Joseph C Ogbonna Dec 2020
Christ is born this day with Bethlehem's poor.
So unassuming, he enters our world
with shepherds lowly coming to adore
this infant Lord who will freedom herald.

Christ is born this day with Bethlehem's poor.
His star in the east did the magi see.
A star never seen from the days of yore
led them to this great child of low degree.

Christ is born this day with Bethlehem's poor.
His birth this day is marked by angels bright.
Singing with cymbals in a placid night,
they ushered in peace from heaven's great door.

Christ is born this day with Bethlehem's poor.
As foretold by the prophets and the law,
He is born of a ****** chaste and meek.
He will never loudly on the streets speak.

Christ is born this day with Bethlehem's poor.
He is lowly with royal ancestry,
born of David's revered noble gentry.
Men's grievous sins His blue blood atoned for.

Christ is born this day with Bethlehem's poor.
He came to earth with men to empathize.
With us for each state he does sympathize.
Our peace with God He came down to restore.

Christ is born this day with Bethlehem's poor.
A unifying force who will world peace make.
Men of different races sing to adore
this Christ child who will their cleavages break.

Christ was numbered with the poor at birth,
and with the transgressors at death.
The birth of Christ. A Christmas poem
Marian Mar 2013
My son, if thou wilt receive
my words, and hide my
commandments with thee:
2 So that thou incline thine ear
unto wisdom, and apply thine
heart to understanding;
3 Yea, if thou criest after
knowledge, and liftest up thy
voice for understanding;
4 If thou seekest her as silver,
and searchest for her as for hid
treasures;
5 Then shalt thou understand
the fear of the Lord, and find the
knowledge of God.
6 For the Lord giveth wisdom:
out of his mouth cometh
knowledge and understanding.
7 He layeth up sound wisdom
for the righteous: he is a buckler
to them that walk uprightly.
8 He keepeth the paths of
judgment, and preserveth the way of
his saints.
9 Then shalt thou understand
righteousness, and judgment, and
equity; yea, every good path.
10 When wisdom entereth into
thine heart, and knowledge is
pleasant unto thy soul;
11 Discretion shall preserve
thee, understanding shall keep
thee:
12 To deliver thee from the way
of the evil man, from the man that
speaketh froward things;
13 Who leave the paths of
uprightness to walk in the ways of
darkness;
14 Who rejoice to do evil, and
delight in the frowardness of the
wicked;
15 Whose ways are crooked,
and they froward in their paths:
16 To deliver thee from the
strange woman, even from the
stranger which flattereth with her
words;
17 Which forsaketh the guide
of her youth, and forgetteth the
covenant of her God.
18 For her house inclineth
unto death, and her paths unto the
dead.
19 None that go onto her return
again, neither take they hold of
the paths of life.
20 That thou mayest walk in the
way of good men, and keep the
paths of the righteous.
21 For the upright shall dwell in
the land, and the perfect shall
remain in it.
22 But the wicked shall be cut
off from the earth, and the
transgressors shall be rooted out
of it.
Tonight you left me breathless
You grabbed me by my hair stared,
then kissed me deeply.
You tethered our lips and my soul followed.

As we interlaced our bodies,
I wondered where you'd gone.
My husband, so gentle and caring,
had taken me by surprise.

Your eyes normally closed for a kiss,
blazed and made me crave more.
You broke away from our pleasure
Leaving me altogether undone.

Who was this man? I'd seen you daily
yet here before me was a new being.
I felt a slave to your passion
British men don't kiss like that!!

Night heat, sweat, and alcohol
lifted the veil of lace from my eyes
you, were now my possessor
I your possessed.

Turning forty had made you an aggressor
And, we the transgressors of the night
Breathlessly I managed to stutter
"You don't kiss like this"

As I shuddered you replied
"Yes, I ******* do "
And continued with your displays.
My body, the storyteller of our pleasure.
For my husband who turned 40, and kissed me like Colin Firth from Brigitte Jones' diary!
© JLB
25/07/2014
David Casas Jan 2012
Where were you on that day that I met you?
On that day that you leaned against the wind lost in thought?

Were you in the forest seeking a spot where the sunlight bled through?
Were you on the beach looking for that dry spot of sand you could sink your toes into?
Were you flying through the storm-clouds looking for a clearing?

Did you recognize me as a limb on the same tree?
As the same handful of water that quenched thirst?
Was I to you a different piece to the same being?

Were you running through fields of roseless thorns looking for a patch of rye?

Did you acquire that embrace that was so long denied you?
Did you find a window in that house?
And if you did was light shining through it?
Did the light burn your skin?
Or did it kiss you?

Have you committed a crime that was committed against you?
Did the punishment that your transgressors avoided, find you?

Have you dived and looked for Atlantis as if it was all that mattered?
Were the shining lights of the city too great for you to hold back your tears?

Did that gust of wind smother the flames in the forest and take you past the sky and into the heavens themselves?
Were you soaring high with the stars, watching trees sprout from the infertile sands?
Did the skies open up?
Did the beyond move closer so you could reach out and touch it?
Did He touch your face as tears of serenity streamed down running to His hand to evaporate into a place you'd never have to discover again?
Show me.
James smith Nov 2017
Skin is skin,  Heart is a heart.
What makes makes a mind to consider any is less like an empty bottle?  
To sense one is second-rate?,
Skin to skin, dust to dust, Bone to bone.  
Heart to heart superior Judge will sit judgment on disgusting hearts.  
Equivalent we are, as transgressors, we are.
01– November 1 17, made straight by propaganda crooked album, Sho Baraka Talented. 10th. Jesus Christ cover by Dustin Kensrue where music inspiration when I was writing this.
02–this poem is about what makes a person to think one race is better then the other or lower. To me the Bible teaches me everyone of us is low even me, God is the Commander superior.
zebra Jul 2017
there's a monkey in my television
he doesn't speak well
but he sure talks good
hes a real politician
Mr Do Right
he much appreciates my support
while ******* in every room of the house
marking his territory
which is everywhere
and promising lavender horizons
with words like a luster of stumps
turning lives into vagrant shadows
freezing dreams like skin tags

he's **** high in **** and graft
having *** ******
an
American way of life
while he grandstands  
riding a tricycle on the ceiling
all business like
a lazy worthless *******
with a slush fund
and no limit to what he will do
flanked with mullah lawyers and the clergy
minions lackeys and body guards
he sits terminal 
upon a throne
like a jagged mouth
sure to be swallowed
struggling against the menacing whispers
of those do wrongs and the unborn

world soul disgruntled
a slave to being a tyrant
ready to **** all transgressors
of his vainglory
and a willing toilet mouth
to all above
gobbling and grateful  
when they flush
the god of money ******
leading by example
and
serving with distinction
Remembering William Burroughs
Mateuš Conrad Jun 2017
i'm sorry, but it's true...
                          however rigid you might
find the need to confirm
a truth...
    but even the great
piano composers
   of the last century,
be that liszt, chopin,
satie, debussy, or schumann...
can't compete with
thomas newman's
   score for american beauty,
i.e. any other name...
     it's the pauses,
which act are stressors to
the whole composition...
   we're surrounded by
so many sounds that are
trans-mammalian...
          we've become
so accustomed to them,
that, as i once said:
    the song of birds with due
end of spring: irritates me!
   i'm sorry...
i'm sorry that poetry seems feeble
by way of imitating this
approach...
           there are never to few
words to be said,
   as said, regarding
           someone's death:
i wish i said...
                             i wish i said
this...
    i wish i said
          this to him (her)...
poetry can fake this minimalism,
akin to the oriental haiku...
    but that's beside the point...
            don't fake it...
    drown in your words as the last
breaths in the sea of narratives...
thomas newman transcended
the "masters" of piano...
      i don't know how he managed
to overcome satie or debussy...
     i'm scratching my head
thinking: huh?
  he actually wrote a piano haiku!
perhaps that's a misnomer example,
but given the waterfall dynamic
to my writing, i have no interest
in using the correct word...
   if the word i used was incorrect;
god, it takes so little...
to overpower so much,
         say: overpowering the power
hierarchy that gave us pyramids...
why isn't there an aztec story
  regarding those pyramids?
    surely there must be something!
ah! after all... those pyramids weren't
tombs, dedicated toward a burial...
they were sites of capital punishment,
   imposing sites,
    enough...          to warn
future transgressors of law...
                these weren't tombs...
they were scaffolds of capital execution...
   no wonder there was no jewish
stubbornness among the aztecs...
         there was no divine intervention.
yeah yeah, i know, atheism is vogue...
but with atheism comes no art...
              and why would art succumb
to a rational "argument" for its existence?
         fair enough... no canvas, no paint,
no paint-strokes, no painting...
      i hope you find a brick-wall more
entertaining.
Joseph Dec 2017
Optimism
The dogma that is oh so self-assured of the contingency
proclaiming the prevalence of good over infamy
as though it is incontrovertibly concordant with factual certainty
'tis merely a fallacy or an element of a fantasy in which people live in harmony

Life
But really, in this cruel realm, the mistakes of our forefathers
manifest themselves as demons hollering at us to notify us of the need to be better in this endeavour
or we'd get slaughtered with the blade of a knife comprised of their defeats altogether
forged into a skin piercing crystal reminiscent of their congealed sweat that perspired from the extreme pressure
stimulated from bottling up anger and restraining themselves from speaking up against transgressors
nevertheless, we make the same mistakes to pass it on to the next generation deeming them the successors of displeasure tolerators

Death
What are the benefits of labouring through a 9 to 5 job if its eventuality
is the same as that of lying on the ground all day? It will all come to a finality
the universe is indifferent towards our actuality. It will continue expanding until it reaches the point of totality
emotions are nothing but particular sequences of electric pulses in wads of matter, faulty physicality
any memory held by any entity will eventually be lost at the end of this simulation played out chronologically
Dánï Apr 2014
We commit many errors, through misadventures.
We do things we're not supposed to, out of pleasure.

We choose to forget, we don't want to remember,
Then complain about not knowing ourselves- being our own transgressors.

All because we're

*Old enough to know better,
Young enough to do whatever.
-d.***
ConnectHook Jul 2021
Michael Wigglesworth (1631–1705)

STILL was the night, serene and bright,
  When all men sleeping lay;
Calm was the season, and carnal reason
  Thought so ’t would last for aye.
Soul, take thine ease, let sorrow cease,         5
  Much good thou hast in store:
This was their song, their cups among,
  The evening before.

Wallowing in all kind of sin,
  Vile wretches lay secure:         10
The best of men had scarcely then
  Their lamps kept in good ure.
Virgins unwise, who through disguise
  Amongst the best were number’d,
Had clos’d their eyes; yea, and the wise         15
  Through sloth and frailty slumber’d.

Like as of gold, when men grow bold
  God’s threat’nings to contemn,
Who stop their ear, and would not hear;
  When mercy warned them:         20
But took their course, without remorse,
  Till God began to pour
Destruction the world upon
  In a tempestuous shower.

They put away the evil day,         25
  And drown’d their care and fears,
Till drown’d were they, and swept away
  By vengeance unawares:
So at the last, whilst men sleep fast
  In their security,         30
Surpris’d they are in such a snare
  As cometh suddenly.

For at midnight break forth a light,
  Which turn’d the night to day,
And speedily an hideous cry         35
  Did all the world dismay.
Sinners awake, their hearts do ache,
  Trembling their ***** surpriseth;
Amaz’d with fear, by what they hear,
  Each one of them ariseth.         40

They rush from beds with giddy heads,
  And to their windows run,
Viewing this light, which shines more bright
  Than doth the noonday sun.
Straightway appears (they see ’t with tears,)         45
  The Son of God most dread;
Who with his train comes on amain
  To judge both quick and dead.

Before his face the heavens gave place,
  And skies are rent asunder,         50
With mighty voice, and hideous noise,
  More terrible than thunder.
His brightness damps heaven’s glorious lamps,
  And makes them hide their heads,
As if afraid and quite dismay’d,         55
  They quit their wonted steads.

Ye sons of men that durst contemn
  The threat’nings of God’s word,
How cheer you now? your hearts I trow,
  Are thrill’d as with a sword.         60
Now atheist blind, whose brutish mind
  A God could never see,
Dost thou perceive, dost now believe
  That Christ thy judge shalt be?

Stout courages, (whose hardiness         65
  Could death and hell outface,)
Are you as bold now you behold
  Your judge draw near apace?
They cry, “no, no: alas! and wo!
  Our courage is all gone:         70
Our hardiness (fool hardiness)
  Hath us undone, undone.”

No heart so bold, but now grows cold
  And almost dead with fear:
No eye so dry, but now can cry,         75
  And pour out many a tear.
Earth’s potentates and powerful states,
  Captains and men of might,
Are quite abash’d, their courage dash’d
  At this most dreadful sight.         80

Mean men lament, great men do rent
  Their robes, and tear their hair:
They do not spare their flesh to tear
  Through horrible despair.
All kindreds wail: all hearts do fail:         85
  Horror the world doth fill
With weeping eyes, and loud outcries,
  Yet knows not *******.

Some hide themselves in caves and delves
  In places under ground:         90
Some rashly leap into the deep,
  To ’scape by being drown’d:
Some to the rocks (O senseless blocks!)
  And woody mountains run,
That there they might this fearful sight,         95
  And dreaded presence shun.

In vain do they to mountains say,
  Fall on us and us hide
From judge’s ire, more hot than fire,
  For who may it abide?         100
No hiding place can from his face,
  Sinners at all conceal,
Whose flaming eye hid things doth spy,
  And darkest things reveal.

Then were brought in, and charg’d with sin.         105
  Another company,
Who by petition obtain’d permission,
  To make apology:
They argued, “We were misled,
  As is well known to thee,         110
By their example, that had more ample
  Abilities than we:

Such as profess’d they did detest
  And hate each wicked way:
Whose seeming grace whilst we did trace,         115
  Our souls were led astray.
When men of parts, learning and arts.
  Professing piety,
Did thus and thus, it seem’d to us
  We might take liberty.         120

The judge replies, “I gave you eyes,
  And light to see your way,
Which had you lov’d, and well improv’d,
  You had not gone astray.
My word was pure, the rule was sure,         125
  Why did you it forsake,
Or thereon trample, and men’s example,
  Your directory make?

This you well knew, that God is true,
  And that most men are liars,         130
In word professing holiness,
  In deed thereof deniers.
O simple fools! that having rules
  Your lives to regulate,
Would them refuse, and rather choose         135
  Vile men to imitate.”

“But Lord,” say they, “we went astray,
  And did more wickedly,
By means of those whom thou hast chose
  Salvation heirs to be.”         140
To whom the judge; “what you allege,
  Doth nothing help the case;
But makes appear how vile you were,
  And rendereth you more base.

You understood that what was good         145
  Was to be followed,
And that you ought that which was naught
  To have relinquished.
Contrary ways, it was your guise,
  Only to imitate         150
Good men’s defects, and their neglects
  That were regenerate.

But to express their holiness,
  Or imitate their grace,
You little car’d, nor once prepar’d         155
  Your hearts to seek my face.
They did repent, and truly rent
  Their hearts for all known sin:
You did offend, but not amend,
  To follow them therein.”         160

“We had thy word,” say some, “O Lord,
  But wiser men than we
Could never yet interpret it,
  But always disagree.
How could we fools be led by rules,         165
  So far beyond our ken,
Which to explain did so much pain,
  And puzzle wisest men.”

“Was all my word abstruse and hard?”
  The judge then answered:         170
“It did contain much truth so plain,
  You might have run and read.
But what was hard you never car’d
  To know nor studied.
And things that were most plain and clear         175
  You never practised.

The mystery of piety
  God unto babes reveals;
When to the wise he it denies,
  And from the world conceals.         180
If to fulfil God’s holy will
  Had seemed good to you
You would have sought light as you ought,
  And done the good you knew.”

Then at the bar arraigned are         185
  An impudenter sort,
Who to evade the guilt that’s laid
  Upon them thus retort;
“How could we cease thus to transgress?
  How could we hell avoid,         190
Whom God’s decree shut out from thee,
  And sign’d to be destroy’d?

Whom God ordains to endless pains,
  By law unalterable,
Repentance true, obedience new,         195
  To save such are unable:
Sorrow for sin, no good can win,
  To such as are rejected:
Nor can they grieve, nor yet believe,
  That never were elected.         200

Of man’s fall’n race who can true grace
  Or holiness obtain?
Who can convert or change his heart,
  If God withhold the same?
Had we applied ourselves and tried         205
  As much as who did most
God’s love to gain, our busy pain
  And labor had been lost.

Christ readily makes this reply;
  “I **** you not because         210
You are rejected or not elected,
  But you have broke my laws:
It is but vain your wits to strain
  The end and means to sever:
Men fondly seek to part or break         215
  What God hath link’d together.

Whom God will save such will he have
  The means of life to use:
Whom he ’ll pass by, shall choose to die,
  And ways of life refuse.         220
He that foresees, and foredecrees,
  In wisdom order’d has,
That man’s free will electing ill,
  Shall bring his will to pass.

High God’s decree, as it is free,         225
  So doth it none compel
Against their will to good or ill,
  It forceth none to hell.
They have their wish whose souls perish
  With torments in hell fire,         230
Who rather chose their souls to lose,
  Than leave a loose desire.

Then to the bar, all they drew near
  Who died in infancy,
And never had or good or bad         235
  Effected personally,
But from the womb unto the tomb
  Were straightway carried,
(Or at the last ere they transgress’d)
  Who thus began to plead:         240

“If for our own transgression,
  Or disobedience,
We here did stand at thy left hand,
  Just were the recompense:
But Adam’s guilt our souls hath spilt,         245
  His fault is charged on us;
And that alone hath overthrown,
  And utterly undone us.

Not we, but he ate of the tree,
  Whose fruit was interdicted:         250
Yet on us all of his sad fall,
  The punishment ’s inflicted.
How could we sin that had not been,
  Or how is his sin our
Without consent, which to prevent,         255
  We never had a power?

O great Creator, why was our nature
  Depraved and forlorn?
Why so defil’d, and made so vild
  Whilst we were yet unborn?         260
If it be just and needs we must
  Transgressors reckon’d be,
Thy mercy, Lord, to us afford,
  Which sinners hath set free.

Behold we see Adam set free,         265
  And sav’d from his trespass,
Whose sinful fall hath split us all,
  And brought us to this pass.
Canst thou deny us once to try,
  Or grace to us to tender,         270
When he finds grace before thy face,
  That was the chief offender?”

Then answered the judge most dread,
  “God doth such doom forbid,
That men should die eternally         275
  For what they never did.
But what you call old Adam’s fall,
  And only his trespass,
You call amiss to call it his,
  Both his and yours it was.         280

He was design’d of all mankind
  To be a public head,
A common root, whence all should shoot,
  And stood in all their stead.
He stood and fell, did ill or well,         285
  Not for himself alone,
But for you all, who now his fall
  And trespass would disown.

If he had stood, then all his brood
  Had been established         290
In God’s true love never to move,
  Nor once awry to tread:
Then all his race, my Father’s grace,
  Should have enjoy’d for ever,
And wicked sprites by subtle sleights         295
  Could then have harmed never.

Would you have griev’d to have receiv’d
  Through Adam so much good,
And had been your for evermore,
  If he at first had stood?         300
Would you have said, ‘we ne’er obey’d,
  Nor did thy laws regard;
It ill befits with benefits,
  Us, Lord, so to reward.’

Since then to share in his welfare,         305
  You could have been content,
You may with reason share in his treason,
  And in the punishment.
Hence you were born in state forlorn,
  With nature so deprav’d:         310
Death was your due, because that you
  Had thus yourselves behav’d.

You think, ‘if we had been as he,
  Whom God did so betrust,
We to our cost would ne’er have lost         315
  All for a paltry lust.’
Had you been made in Adam’s stead,
  You would like things have wrought,
And so into the selfsame wo,
  Yourselves and yours have brought.         320

I may deny you once to try,
  Or grace to you to tender,
Though he finds grace before my face,
  Who was the chief offender:
Else should my grace cease to be grace;         325
  For it should not be free,
If to release whom I should please,
  I have no liberty.

If upon one what’s due to none
  I frankly shall bestow,         330
And on the rest shall not think best,
  Compassion’s skirts to throw,
Whom injure I? will you envy,
  And grudge at others’ weal?
Or me accuse, who do refuse         335
  Yourselves to help and heal.

Am I alone for what’s my own,
  No master or no Lord?
O if I am, how can you claim
  What I to some afford?         340
Will you demand grace at my hand,
  And challenge what is mine?
Will you teach me whom to set free,
  And thus my grace confine?

You sinners are, and such a share         345
  As sinners may expect,
Such you shall have; for I do save
  None but my own elect.
Yet to compare your sin with their
  Who liv’d a longer time,         350
I do confess yours is much less,
  Though every sin’s a crime.

A crime it is, therefore in bliss
  You may not hope to dwell
But unto you I shall allow         355
  The easiest room in hell.”
The glorious king thus answering,
  They cease, and plead no longer:
Their consciences must needs confess
  His reasons are the stronger.         360

Thus all men’s pleas the judge with ease
  Doth answer and confute.
Until that all, both great and small,
  Are silenced and mute.
Vain hopes are crop’d, all mouths are stop’d,         365
  Sinners have nought to say,
But that ’tis just, and equal most
  They should be ****’d for aye.

Now what remains, but that to pains
  And everlasting smart,         370
Christ should condemn the sons of men,
  Which is their just desert;
Oh rueful plights of sinful wights!
  Oh wretches all forlorn:
’T had happy been they ne’er had seen         375
  The sun, or not been born.

The saints behold with courage bold,
  And thankful wonderment,
To see all those that were their foes
  Thus sent to punishment:         380
Then do they sing unto their king
  A song of endless praise:
They praise his name and do proclaim
  That just are all his ways.

Thus with great joy and melody         385
  To heaven they all ascend,
Him there to praise with sweetest lays,
  And hymns that never end.
Where with long rest they shall be blest,
  And nought shall them annoy:         390
Where they shall see as seen they be,
  And whom they love enjoy.
zebra Oct 2017
oh, the poet
antagonist to the good and evil alike
a sobbing child
let lose in the world
with words and appetites piqued and sensual
transgressors of the middle class
and dull speak

their literary magnitude
sometimes perfume and sometimes stench
dripping on wet pages
written by electric brains
nimble figures and wet crotches
to relieve themselves of stupidities accumulations
wrought by their culture
mired in stink think
of either or

from the head up
high minded saints
from the hips down
undulating demons
each in denial of the other
a buffet of lies

the poet
purging private pleasures and torments
for the bemusement of the world
laid-out on the page
like public masturbations
for all to see in the theater of the ear
genuflecting
with mellifluent grace
and silver tongued appreciations
Mi need to bathe you,
is the courage to escape my loneliness ...
How many nights I prayed desperately to preserve
intact your being ...?,
but finally my love complained ...

And tells me that in the dark march,
Repeat the romantic are ...
Non delirious delirium,
not escape my last words
of love for you.
But fear took possession of me ...
I die of cold Frosting
because I can not move my hands,
stop them closer to you ...
They are collected only sadness
raw winters past.

To write you're born ...
born of my hands,
believing be yours ...
and memory makes me see the light.
To quiet me you ...
fulfilling your order;
in which I usually remember that in the mornings
your laborious things you go,
perhaps you are thinking of me ...
and in the morning today
cardiography full slide it from me to you.

Into Virginity in their beautiful innocence,
It made me smell your transgressors and delectable flavors ...
like your closet where your clothes,
smell the soft body owner of the shoes;
like a wedding garment.

Sent your nose and your eyes rears,
I feel close to my timid lips ...
can now define your geography,
and talk about how walking the streets
I transported my arms,
and as my starters we had far kisses,
perhaps to opening a new relationship warm meeting.

But again, the difference between your body and mine,
make me dream your soul,
I do remember just harder ...
feel your body feeling more mine.
I have a demonic fear,
afraid to feel the dense flow of your love ...
as if the exhaust kiss you starting and running over
the planting of hopes deposited,
as the ends of your belongings ...
or the wall of your home delimited.

But  your caste Toscana brunette rends my restless sighs,
Rends my hands as if to touch you whole
to paint my skin of your color.
Sand you have to love,
Put your hands under mine ...
so that I can not drink a sip of wine,
impounded  on your cheeks ...
and wine do not take to me
not taking off my hands from yours.

Tand I offer my heat ...
like a sunny day Spring overflowing ...
Raising your passions and my arms to get up
Sighs with Menthol warming your icy areas,
lovers embracing your dreams in my nascent Spring
living in my beloved senses intertwined by you.

Nor stop thinking about you,
because the man who dwells in me in the past feelings ...
forget the past love to have you just you ...
I not leave the neglects,
abandonment only present cold ...
necessary to deliver in the morning sun.

For you is my feeling,
for you and I'm ...
looking for the deafening noise
tell me love you ...
Or frozen bury my senses ...
He is smiling at death with his golden cup,
giving me drinking his relieved henbane ...
and sleep a hundred allusive to you dreams.

For you is my feeling,
wind softens my feeling
it softens my words ...
Live to worship illustrated landscapes of you.

My beautified i feel for you,
He asks me to rest his head ...
than going with its slow pace,
it will leave in your hands ...
beautiful fear feel for you.

Sizable beautiful like a tower Freedoms,                
My feeling comes to you ...
in my current feeling
Accept your fragile charged intentions
my good wishes.
I fear ... Hat beautiful,
I think not feel it now ...
thinking that the brave desire in me,
press the depth of my feeling,
escaping debris everywhere from me to you!

That curiosity talk about love ...
of this tireless poem,
fearful of this poem ...
his desirable courage of Love You...!
LOVE GENETIC  CRIMINAL FEAR
Jenna Paige Sep 2017
I sell remedies
To my enemies
Of lust
And life
And love
I curse my foes
With my heart of gold
And cold hands fitted with gloves
I sever those warm hands at the wrist of my transgressors
**** my soul
And all I know
For pills and potions of the tides
Dez Mar 2020
Fetters are on many who do not believe
Are they on you?
Well, check and see!
Are you bound by doubt
Or are you shackled by a thought you can’t surmount?

In my answer listen close
For good news, I bring from the coast.
Turn not from listening when I begin
For it is needful that you listen in.
It is that you are a sinner and do need saving
From the wrath of God, that is hastening.
Believe me, not?
Are you without a blot?
Well, then you must be the best of persons!
But quick, let's check and see?

Not one false truth have you unfurled
From thy curled
Lips?

Do you withhold every word thou might have uttered
In the blasphemy against thy maker?

Have you never murdered?
Even by saying a perverse word
Against thy brother?
Tell me truly
Are you
Unruly?

If this dear poet were to speak to your parents
Would they tell me you've always
acted truly?
Honored their commands
And obeyed their demands?

Has thy hand taken?

Has your heart coveted the body of another
That is lust, my dear brother.

But be not mad
for I am just as bad
if not worse then all transgressors.

How then shall two chums like us
Enter glory when our bodies are but dust?

Maybe we shall escape through the mercies
Of the God that is to judge our secrecies?
Nah, my fellow!
Be we in a court of law the judge would bellow
That we have transgressed
And are dismissed
To suffer the vengeance
Saved for our negligence!

But say we were so bold
to lay out the story yet untold
Of good deeds many
And prayers plenty?
This still would not suffice
For our sins do require a sacrifice.
For though I transgress not again
The sin is unpaid for if I have not accepted the Christ.
The one who suffered all demise!

'Tis a two-step process
that is a must that leads us
To a reunion and a trust
To the one who formed us from dust.

First cometh repentance
The which is a turning
From the yearning
Of the lusts
Which did
Hold you
In the
Dust.

The second
Is to believe upon
The one who hung well after the dawn.
Yet not in his death alone, for that would be wrong!
But in his resurrection and in his victor's song!
For he has freed us from our death
And taken the punishment
For our every breath
That we did fail
To thank God
For who gave
To us, our
Will.

Repent and believe this tale
And my dear friend, he will never fail.
He promises not a life of ease
Nor one free from disease
as some modern preachers tease.
No, he promises a life of toils
And many raging seas.
But at the end is life untold!
So brother do be bold
And humble thy head
and bow thy knees.
Commit to him thy life
And to you, he shall grant eternal life.

If this has happened to the soul that does read
Then do take heed
For our heads are not the keys
Nor are thy deeds
A means to inherit
These.

Trust Christ and him alone
for all thy wants and needs.

I am from humble means
So think not that I live in ease
For I live for him but many tease
And my life has its stormy seas.
But he has called me to my knees
Where I did call upon his mercies
And he bestowed his wondrous glories
And gave me joy and peace

With that, I may now cease
To question my life
that I once did doubt
And my fetters are fallen
And I do shout
So how could I ever come to doubt?

Now conclude I with a promise
And it is one He gave to me
It is that life might be more full
And abound with blessings
And in the end, you will receive
Life everlasting, peace, and glory.

No shackle
No fetter
Only a life for the better
This does come if repentance
You seek and are humbled
Before Christ.
James M Vines Jul 2017
On a hill far away on a very dark and sad day, a man was counted among the transgressors. I watched as he gave up his last breath and listened as he said it is done. In that moment I saw innocence killed for nothing that was worthy of death. When his last breath was drawn, I understood that I was guilty of his  blood, and that I had to die with him in order to live again.
The sinful man that I was must die in order for the spiritual man to live.
Bob B Jan 2023
It’s fine to be religious,
But let’s be realistic.
When folks misuse religion,
It makes me go ballistic--

Especially when they assert
That God uses forms
Of punishment, such as
Earthquakes, floods, and storms

To make transgressors pay
For "evil" things they've done.
They must get under His sin.
(How's that for a pun?)

But in all seriousness,
Nature acts alone--
Without divine interference--
And has a "mind" of its own.

Nature doesn't distinguish
Between the sinful and pious.
Humans are the ones
Who have a definite bias,

Such as cherry pickers
Who like to concentrate
On finding quotes in scriptures
To justify their hate.

Moral judgments are NOT
One of Nature's features.
Frankly, that is more
The realm of certain preachers.

Many people believe
In God and sin, and yet
They don't tend to use
Religion as a threat.

Whatever your beliefs,
Put them to proper use.
Don't cave in to nonsense,
For that's religious abuse.

-by Bob B (1-16-23)
after reading the article
(published in the July + August 2024
issue of Mother Jones)
titled Raging bull - Donald Trump's
pugilistic spokesman has taken
campaigning to a whole new level of low.

Beyond the lookout
for Huyen "Steven" Cheung
(born June 23, 1982)
an American political advisor
Donald Trump's campaign spokesman
in the 2023–24 Republican primary
and served in the Donald J. Trump administration.

He previously worked in Trump's 2016
and 2020 campaigns.

Brilliant gifted package of brains and brawn,
his crude quips against opponents,
(which includes politicians of all stripes),
cut down and figuratively quartered
reduced courtesy raw bits of biting riposte
forced into thralldom, cuz Trump world
adversaries sacrificial fodder roasted alive
all stops pulled out except blood relatives,
where merciless cutthroat antagonism drawn
sycophants molded like putty in the hands
of Voodoo magic spellcaster henchman
disabling staunch radical transgressors

think how frozen blinded deer fawn,
videre licet buckle under headlights glare
immobilized lifeless body
courtesy invisible hawn
fricasséeing, mincing, skewering,
and frankly zapping unwitting victim
par for the coarse faux jambon,
or sprinkled as rich nutrient
upon manicured lawn
housing consecrated ashes
disintegrated lovely bones of Memnon
stands proud as genetic product of Nippon.

Upon first immediate glance
his seventy two plus inches
presents overshadowing, looming,
and hulking mound of flesh
capped with large oblong head,
his likeness surpasses,
supersedes, and summons
idealistic awesomeness of
(Jean Jacques Rousseau) noble savage
beastie boy incarnate,
nevertheless he only poses a menace
to any and all who cross his path.

His physical prowess proved time and again
evident as high school football player then
soon thereafter, he channeled latent might
as martial arts fan
and dabbled in taekwondo,
and Muay Thai boxing
answering the call to ring communications
linkedin to testosterone laden
UFC (Ultimate Fighting Championship).

I would not wish to be caught,
in a dark alley with him;
me, who (resembles an aging hippie
and long haired baby boomer)
with accidental affectations somewhat effete
laud a fellow generally antithetical
to my quiet and gentle mien;
no matter yours truly tauts his grandeur

on well poised amazingly graceful feet
exhibits art in motion,
and ability to throw a judicious punch
combined with said averred
robust pillar of strength
being politically savvy
and whip smart to boot
qualities I envy and admire.

Quite challenging,
yet not quite impossible mission
to wax poetic toward an individual
exemplifying the complete antithesis
of mine body, mind and spirit
and synonymous with flattering a bully
for the shear confident bravado
exhibited, which winning qualities
guarantee a success brand
within cutthroat political
webbed wide world effects expand
ever outwar affecting mien kampf

analogous to a monstrous tropical storm
acknowledged as more powerful
(than my measly, and wimpy strength)
that doth move inland,
which earth-shaking event headline
sells papers at the newsstand
years from now techniques
of his stellar machismo masterfully characterized
courtesy elephant gingerly
standing, grandstanding, and balancing on one foot
will serve as object lesson for aspirants
nasty brutish modus operandi
scrutinized, schooled and scanned.
Babatunde Raimi Aug 2020
It is not my thing to hit them where it hurts.
Should we desire to make their corpse walk, they will have a nice night, just the way it is. How we so trusted like a fox. But why pick me, in a vain shadow? You  sucker punch.

Are you now the wary transgressors, on a mission to venice? Things men do. When you cross the line; you have but a short time to live and it is no business of mine. It could be karma knocking at your door, fix it if you can.

I'll get you for this, even it I turn the last page. But you never know with women. Sometimes it is strictly for cash, but figure it out for yourself. But sometimes, you are safer dead. Those creatures, they are the smartest of all. Tell them I told you.

Is it true that you are lonely when you’re dead? Or the guilty are afraid? Maybe in a coffin from Hong Kong. Stay strong, come easy, go easy even if you are on a mission to Sienna.

The way the cookie crumbles, I would rather stay poor. Tell it to the Birds and have this one on me. Want to stay alive? Don't be fooled my blood, an ear to the ground always, especially when there is a Hipie on the highway

The Vulture Is a Patient Bird, waiting at eve, to devour the flesh of the orchid, just like our  "politrick-cians". They make the fast buck; then they double shuffle. We cower and say "I'll bury my dead" even when this leaves like a hole in the head.

When you hold a Tiger by the tail. You've Got It Coming and there's always a price tag, because you are just another sucker. Know that I've got an ace up my sleeve, it is the joker in the park. It is just a matter of time.

You have mastered hit and run. Do me a favour, drop dead for my laugh comes last. That's when you'll know I hold the four Aces. Consider yourself dead, in a can of worms. Did I hear...Oh yes!, you can say that Again.

Even though it is not my thing; hit them where it hurts. I can make the corpse walk. It's like a paw in the bottle. Amazing things men do. Believe this, believe everything because only the guilty are afraid.

Knock, knock! Who's there? So what happens to me? You're dead without money. But a  Goldfish has no hiding place. I can have a change of scene. With the world in your pocket, you have yourself a deal. So, ship in or shape out. At this juncture, i quit lamentations. I am on a mission to succeed. So, how many did you read?
Through the Catholic Church, we create one body
Of those who have faith in our Savior Jesus Christ
This body must have union with those in heaven & purgatory

For those with God who are in heaven
Are not there to abandon their brethren
They are there to help the souls of men

Their closeness to God made them intercessors
Among the blameless and the transgressors
As friends of God, they are worth our honors.

-11/22/2015
(Dumarao)
*12th Daily Reflection from Catechism Booklet
My Poem No. 405
Tom D Mar 2020
There are those whose passions
Are never stirred more
Than through talk of ideology,
Religion , and war
They draw lines in the sand
And declare for their land
That transgressors be met
With the edge of a sword


They eat at the same table
Drink from the same trough
Shout out all the slogans
Wear the same cloth
They stand strong and tall
Behind a thick wall
Claiming God as their ally
Through the foam and the froth

Their numbers are many
These beggars of men
Ignoring compassion and reason
Again and again
Pray they drop their knees down
and abandon their frowns
Allowing God in their hearts
Where the devil has been
Qualyxian Quest Nov 2022
You've been with the professors
They all like your books
I've been with transgressors
My oldest son Q cooks

Vietnamese food is tasty
I like those summer rolls
Chicago is too hasty
Orcs, elves, goblins, trolls

Korean food is delicious
Kim chi with a kick
Don't read the professors
Do read Moby ****

Some professors teach
Some only profess
Bounce pass
Break the press

            Wedding Guest
Ryan O'Leary Mar 2020
Confessional boxes are designed
with the crucifixion in mind, priest
in centre with sinners either side.

Social distancing has changed that,
Padre moves right, transgressors
need to converse across the void.

                                      †
bless me father
I have sinned                                you will have to
its been a year                               speak up son I
since my last                                 I can't hear you
confession

BLESS ME FATHER(((((((
I HAVE SINNED(((((((((((
ITS BEEN A YEAR(((((((((
SINCE MY LAST(((((((((((
CONFESSION((((((((((((((
   (you deaf *******)

— The End —