Poetry competition CLOSED 21st November 2012 8:16pm
WINNER
cjflier
cjflier
Religion
Leave Me Alone
R ender
me helpless
as you wield your tongue
and it slithers over my mind
E ngulf
my thoughts in false prophecies
as your suggestive power
takes me down
L ick
my temple with the divine
weaker I become
now on my knees
I nstil
your belief
through every avenue
of my failing will
G ut
me of my own choices
filling me with fear
because I may get it wrong
I nk
me with sacred water
as you radiate hypocrisy
upon my brow
O pen
my soul
and shade it black
as I see the brutal truth
N ever
preach to me
or take away my choices
while you manipulate my mind
again
ever!
And that goes for EVERY religion.............
R ender
me helpless
as you wield your tongue
and it slithers over my mind
E ngulf
my thoughts in false prophecies
as your suggestive power
takes me down
L ick
my temple with the divine
weaker I become
now on my knees
I nstil
your belief
through every avenue
of my failing will
G ut
me of my own choices
filling me with fear
because I may get it wrong
I nk
me with sacred water
as you radiate hypocrisy
upon my brow
O pen
my soul
and shade it black
as I see the brutal truth
N ever
preach to me
or take away my choices
while you manipulate my mind
again
ever!
And that goes for EVERY religion.............
"why should I be sober
when gods so clearly dusted out his mind" El-p
god has no religion
than why should I ?
you think that impatient bastard
asked permission
to smear his campain of being
onto that which
isn't ?
no
and nor shall I
as I pick at the stitches
in his handiwork
working towards the rapture
of unravel
he even thanks me
in a constant weave of fabric
that trades ecstasy
in its undoing
so
I thank back
riding his being
to high hell
knowing
that, that which is not
will eventually catch him
and
end us both
when gods so clearly dusted out his mind" El-p
god has no religion
than why should I ?
you think that impatient bastard
asked permission
to smear his campain of being
onto that which
isn't ?
no
and nor shall I
as I pick at the stitches
in his handiwork
working towards the rapture
of unravel
he even thanks me
in a constant weave of fabric
that trades ecstasy
in its undoing
so
I thank back
riding his being
to high hell
knowing
that, that which is not
will eventually catch him
and
end us both
Anonymous
“Breaking the Sacred Addiction”
http://www.theology21.com/wp-content/uploads/2011/03/heresy.jpg
In the beginning,
no quarter was given me,
was forced fed slavery to the
molecular secular god, the
One bigger than the entire universe,
sitting on a throne,
his Son at his side.
Guilt and shame stood watch,
sentinels for the greater good,
my constant companions, smiling
in piety, such gleefulness.
I tried to hide, got caught anyways.
The confessional door was always open,
a gruff man hidden behind a dark screen
scolded me for my dreams and masturbation.
Sometimes, I smelled alcohol, wanted to scream,
“This is a creepy place!”
To save face, I remained silent, always stayed.
I lied to him anyways, it was a game I played,
reciting fake Hail Mary’s with my chums
for mortal sins I never really committed,
thought the priest was a dimwitted bum.
They, the smart robed ones,
taught me the craft of deception,
after teaching the Immaculate Conception,
Twice a year they would hold a reception,
collect money for the flood victims,
there always seemed to be such people.
As I grew older, I got bolder, and rebelled.
I asked questions and was quickly shunned,
began to hear whispers that I was done.
For a spell they had me evaluated,
thought I’d get an exorcism, but the elders
said it would create a local schism, be
bad for business, what sickness that was.
When I left for good (many were happy to see me go),
I fantasized the golden chalice, full of its heavenly hosts,
was being raised in a protest to God, not the Holy Ghost.
Funny, nobody knew it was a protestation, but me.
The pious were too busy watching the show,
kneeling and repeating ancient droning rhyme.
Blinded by the light that bled through
the pretty stained glass windows,
telling a story about a crucifixion,
they dropped tons of cash in a floating basket.
Thank the Lord, I broke his addiction and
haven’t been struck by lightning yet.
http://www.theology21.com/wp-content/uploads/2011/03/heresy.jpg
In the beginning,
no quarter was given me,
was forced fed slavery to the
molecular secular god, the
One bigger than the entire universe,
sitting on a throne,
his Son at his side.
Guilt and shame stood watch,
sentinels for the greater good,
my constant companions, smiling
in piety, such gleefulness.
I tried to hide, got caught anyways.
The confessional door was always open,
a gruff man hidden behind a dark screen
scolded me for my dreams and masturbation.
Sometimes, I smelled alcohol, wanted to scream,
“This is a creepy place!”
To save face, I remained silent, always stayed.
I lied to him anyways, it was a game I played,
reciting fake Hail Mary’s with my chums
for mortal sins I never really committed,
thought the priest was a dimwitted bum.
They, the smart robed ones,
taught me the craft of deception,
after teaching the Immaculate Conception,
Twice a year they would hold a reception,
collect money for the flood victims,
there always seemed to be such people.
As I grew older, I got bolder, and rebelled.
I asked questions and was quickly shunned,
began to hear whispers that I was done.
For a spell they had me evaluated,
thought I’d get an exorcism, but the elders
said it would create a local schism, be
bad for business, what sickness that was.
When I left for good (many were happy to see me go),
I fantasized the golden chalice, full of its heavenly hosts,
was being raised in a protest to God, not the Holy Ghost.
Funny, nobody knew it was a protestation, but me.
The pious were too busy watching the show,
kneeling and repeating ancient droning rhyme.
Blinded by the light that bled through
the pretty stained glass windows,
telling a story about a crucifixion,
they dropped tons of cash in a floating basket.
Thank the Lord, I broke his addiction and
haven’t been struck by lightning yet.
I was brought up to believe and when i travelled to different placees as a child due to a dysfunctional childhood i took my invisible friend with me.... and i believed all my life (even though i believe that maybe religion is born through fear back through the ages) but the day i lost someone dear to me who suffered terribly for two years, mentally and physically , the moment she died i turned to one of my bibles and felt like throwing up, i could not even touch it.... a few months later i found the irresistible urge to do something i always thought was attention seeking crap....i felt the urge to hug a tree, the moment i did, i felt so soothed, not that all my pain was swiped it was merely soothed... after much thought i now consider myself a pagan...not restricted to paganism, i just adore nature and follow my instinctual heart and i have never felt happier in my life....
GOD
The man who created God
did so to make secure
the kingdom he had conquered;
for without the fear of God
his subjects would revolt.
God was created in man's own image
for it is easier to explain
to simple people.
Heaven was created as a palliative
To dismiss the hardships that
our rulers inflict on common man.
Hell was created to bring in line
those elements in the masses
who respond only to terror.
Religion was separated from politics
to allow our rulers freedom
from dogma and divine interference.
The man who created God
did so to make secure
the kingdom he had conquered;
for without the fear of God
his subjects would revolt.
God was created in man's own image
for it is easier to explain
to simple people.
Heaven was created as a palliative
To dismiss the hardships that
our rulers inflict on common man.
Hell was created to bring in line
those elements in the masses
who respond only to terror.
Religion was separated from politics
to allow our rulers freedom
from dogma and divine interference.
We try to grasp all that we can feel
Every grain of substance we can imagine
All the hesitant hands we couldn't deal
From our arduous compassion engines
How long can we believe until we kneel
To the unkept veracity of religion
Or fade into a vengeful iconoclast
Cynically mocking the faithful breed
Of merry-go-bashers that attempt to cast
Their egotist ideals of what we all need
Fairy tale prophets that lived in the past
Getting off on their own selfish greed
The words of mankind have nothing to tell
Implicating a heaven is rhetoric at best
And, If I'm to live I'd rather go to hell
A tactic of fear sounds like a fitting nest
For someone who has already gaily fell
To a nihilist end that I should have guessed
I have opened my mind to one single thing
A universal truth that we all should know
That one simple rule is to believe in nothing
Is there any trace of deception in what I sow?
There is no wrong answer when you doubt everything
And, Your deathbed shall drench you in a deadly woe
We all fucking die alone!
Every grain of substance we can imagine
All the hesitant hands we couldn't deal
From our arduous compassion engines
How long can we believe until we kneel
To the unkept veracity of religion
Or fade into a vengeful iconoclast
Cynically mocking the faithful breed
Of merry-go-bashers that attempt to cast
Their egotist ideals of what we all need
Fairy tale prophets that lived in the past
Getting off on their own selfish greed
The words of mankind have nothing to tell
Implicating a heaven is rhetoric at best
And, If I'm to live I'd rather go to hell
A tactic of fear sounds like a fitting nest
For someone who has already gaily fell
To a nihilist end that I should have guessed
I have opened my mind to one single thing
A universal truth that we all should know
That one simple rule is to believe in nothing
Is there any trace of deception in what I sow?
There is no wrong answer when you doubt everything
And, Your deathbed shall drench you in a deadly woe
We all fucking die alone!
Divine plan
We were told we would be like gods
and we were. The price of wisdom
was high however. Too high for poor
little man to pay. So God almighty
high up in the skies devised a plan.
He would beget a son to die for us.
A son, a man just like you and me
and also God himself in the flesh.
A final sacrifice of God to God.
And of course he didn't stay dead.
He came back and then returned
to himself in heaven. It all makes
perfect.....
We were told we would be like gods
and we were. The price of wisdom
was high however. Too high for poor
little man to pay. So God almighty
high up in the skies devised a plan.
He would beget a son to die for us.
A son, a man just like you and me
and also God himself in the flesh.
A final sacrifice of God to God.
And of course he didn't stay dead.
He came back and then returned
to himself in heaven. It all makes
perfect.....
Of Gods and Goblins
Faith: To hold a belief in something or someone that there is
little or no concrete evidence which would demand anything except
blind belief..or faith might come in there somewhere to occupy the grey area between fact and fancy.
Dr. Alexander, is of the mind that life is a game and we are all
willing participants come here to prove our worth to the one God.
He watches over us, willing us to finish with honor. so we can be
stationed in orb form inside one of his many paralleled worlds
and entities to use diplomacy in the struggle for the greater
good.
Seems to me that this is a much better option than rotting away
(all be it happily)in a large white space designed for the divine
and reserved for angels.
until the trumpets sound and we're all called for war against the
Beast.an epic battle that'll decide the faith of the earth.
what draws me to the former is the sheer size of it. the endless
options involved with being at one with everything, everywhere
But then he lost me
Dr. Alexander is also of the mind that souls who fail this game
will not only suffer defeat but will also burn in a hell (which
apparently he was rescued from by two angels)for eternity.
Burning in hell for eternity seems very simplistic to say the least, given the vastness of all the universe.I'd rather just
hold myself accountable to the Universe and forget about any man made Gods or Goblins.
http://www.thedailybeast.com/newsweek/2012/10/07/proof-of-heaven-a-doctor-s-experience-with-the-afterlife.html
as said, some of this was really interesting, until it descended into the burning in hell shit.
Faith: To hold a belief in something or someone that there is
little or no concrete evidence which would demand anything except
blind belief..or faith might come in there somewhere to occupy the grey area between fact and fancy.
Dr. Alexander, is of the mind that life is a game and we are all
willing participants come here to prove our worth to the one God.
He watches over us, willing us to finish with honor. so we can be
stationed in orb form inside one of his many paralleled worlds
and entities to use diplomacy in the struggle for the greater
good.
Seems to me that this is a much better option than rotting away
(all be it happily)in a large white space designed for the divine
and reserved for angels.
until the trumpets sound and we're all called for war against the
Beast.an epic battle that'll decide the faith of the earth.
what draws me to the former is the sheer size of it. the endless
options involved with being at one with everything, everywhere
But then he lost me
Dr. Alexander is also of the mind that souls who fail this game
will not only suffer defeat but will also burn in a hell (which
apparently he was rescued from by two angels)for eternity.
Burning in hell for eternity seems very simplistic to say the least, given the vastness of all the universe.I'd rather just
hold myself accountable to the Universe and forget about any man made Gods or Goblins.
http://www.thedailybeast.com/newsweek/2012/10/07/proof-of-heaven-a-doctor-s-experience-with-the-afterlife.html
as said, some of this was really interesting, until it descended into the burning in hell shit.
Forced into a religion,
Guess you could say I believe,
Not that I feel true,
Sitting at that church,
I'm like a magnet for hate by sight,
And I don't really understand anything,
Except I sin too often,
And probably need some type of "cleansing".
I see that confessions door,
And quickly run away,
Who would want to hear the things I've done,
I'm already judged,
In a church filled with hypocrites,
Judging is a sin, I'm told,
And they stare anyway.
Our Father is greedy,
Begging for money to fix debts,
Our Pope is harsh,
And shuts down churches,
This begins the protests,
The rebals and arguments,
I used to be the devil but when I see the rest,
No one in the world is really Christian anymore.
So I sit and I believe,
But how can I trust these lying thieves?
What do they know,
How can I tell,
Ad they sit and preach,
they're reading the pathway to Hell,
I just don't know.
Guess you could say I believe,
Not that I feel true,
Sitting at that church,
I'm like a magnet for hate by sight,
And I don't really understand anything,
Except I sin too often,
And probably need some type of "cleansing".
I see that confessions door,
And quickly run away,
Who would want to hear the things I've done,
I'm already judged,
In a church filled with hypocrites,
Judging is a sin, I'm told,
And they stare anyway.
Our Father is greedy,
Begging for money to fix debts,
Our Pope is harsh,
And shuts down churches,
This begins the protests,
The rebals and arguments,
I used to be the devil but when I see the rest,
No one in the world is really Christian anymore.
So I sit and I believe,
But how can I trust these lying thieves?
What do they know,
How can I tell,
Ad they sit and preach,
they're reading the pathway to Hell,
I just don't know.
I am
I am a woman
I am a man
I am your child
And I am your friend.
I go to your church
And I live on your street.
I hike with you
Through snow-capped mountains
And I learn with you at school.
I am in your work place
And in your malls.
I am everywhere
And I welcome you.
I am good for a chat
And we share our ideas
I love the Earth
And you do too.
I care for you
When you are ill
And I share your joys
And sorrows.
I fight our wars
And celebrate our holidays.
I am a witch.
I love you for who you are
And I share your wishes.
I share your fears
And hopes and dreams.
And I am a witch.
I am your neighbor
And I am your son.
I am your daughter,
Your mother
And teacher.
I work with you
And I dance with you.
I am your friend.
So please do not fear
Please do not hate.
I will share my ways
If you care to listen
And I will hear your ways
And shall not judge.
It is not for me
To tell you what to believe
And it is not for you
To do the same to me.
I wish to share
To dance and laugh
To cry and hug
With you.
Please, do not fear me.
We can live together
We can share our ways
We can respect
And debate
But we must never judge.
If you wish to join us
In this hope
Please do.
Bring your faith,
Your ideals
Your beliefs
And all of who you are
And I will welcome you.
I am a woman
I am a man
I am your child
And I am your friend.
I go to your church
And I live on your street.
I hike with you
Through snow-capped mountains
And I learn with you at school.
I am in your work place
And in your malls.
I am everywhere
And I welcome you.
I am good for a chat
And we share our ideas
I love the Earth
And you do too.
I care for you
When you are ill
And I share your joys
And sorrows.
I fight our wars
And celebrate our holidays.
I am a witch.
I love you for who you are
And I share your wishes.
I share your fears
And hopes and dreams.
And I am a witch.
I am your neighbor
And I am your son.
I am your daughter,
Your mother
And teacher.
I work with you
And I dance with you.
I am your friend.
So please do not fear
Please do not hate.
I will share my ways
If you care to listen
And I will hear your ways
And shall not judge.
It is not for me
To tell you what to believe
And it is not for you
To do the same to me.
I wish to share
To dance and laugh
To cry and hug
With you.
Please, do not fear me.
We can live together
We can share our ways
We can respect
And debate
But we must never judge.
If you wish to join us
In this hope
Please do.
Bring your faith,
Your ideals
Your beliefs
And all of who you are
And I will welcome you.
Once a man came to mah farm to pray for a sick ram
The type of ridiculous fucker who would say darn not damn
Reciting verses that sounded to me like
Nonsense voodoo curses
I could really apply the word nonsense
Non and sense, lacking of basic sense
But I bit my lip and remained upon the fence
As he cried "Jesus lend you strength"
The ram couldn't walk, the stud was past its days of glory
But this man could sure talk, you said you wanted the truth
Well this here is a true fucking story
He seemed satisfied that god would then cure the ram
Like his words were magic but they belong in a sewer God damn!
cos I watched a man of science come to our farm
And we dug a hole in the hot hard South Australian ground
Buried over now where the ram can be found
It was soon after the prayers that he was dead
The scientist had come to slice open his head
But the holy fucker just sat repeating handy verses like a cute little bird upon a perch
If you're wondering why they took pieces of the ram's brain, well it was for research
The bird still squawks and acts pretty, like he's never lied
And still preaches his talk so petty, even more so after his eldest son had died
The type of ridiculous fucker who would say darn not damn
Reciting verses that sounded to me like
Nonsense voodoo curses
I could really apply the word nonsense
Non and sense, lacking of basic sense
But I bit my lip and remained upon the fence
As he cried "Jesus lend you strength"
The ram couldn't walk, the stud was past its days of glory
But this man could sure talk, you said you wanted the truth
Well this here is a true fucking story
He seemed satisfied that god would then cure the ram
Like his words were magic but they belong in a sewer God damn!
cos I watched a man of science come to our farm
And we dug a hole in the hot hard South Australian ground
Buried over now where the ram can be found
It was soon after the prayers that he was dead
The scientist had come to slice open his head
But the holy fucker just sat repeating handy verses like a cute little bird upon a perch
If you're wondering why they took pieces of the ram's brain, well it was for research
The bird still squawks and acts pretty, like he's never lied
And still preaches his talk so petty, even more so after his eldest son had died
