The Collection Plate Is Not a Payphone

The preachers say they have my God on speed dial  
A ladder to the heavens once again
Operator, put me through directly
This time I just don’t wanna go through them

I fear my calls may not have been delivered 
And maybe I don’t have the time to wait 
Now I am concerned that I’ll be buried 
And that the payphone in the church was just a plate 

I surely can’t contest the pulpit masters
Indeed I have transgressed a righteous law 
But if it is God’s laws that I have broken 
Why is it a man who flaps his jaw 

What man can say that he will end my quarrel 
With the One that I offended through and through 
Is there a mercy store with clerks who sell forgiveness?
Is there anything that God Himself will do? 

Never will they have to pass my message 
I will place my own confession in His hand 
At least if I'm beyond my rights to do it 
For that I will not answer to a man

Kyle Ezra Kriticos
Copyright © | Year Posted 2011

Poem

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Mister Roboto Avatar
November 9, 2011 at 5:00 AM
A-to the -MEN brother! You got the "IT FACTOR"...no doubt kid! all 7's from me so far. I got you listed as my favorite Soup Poet. Sorry you have not surpassed my Drunken Hero, Charles "HANK" Bukowski ..............................................................................(*yet)
Mister Roboto Avatar
November 9, 2011 at 5:00 AM
almost forgot to vote that SEVEN for ya'!
Wesley Avatar
September 7, 2011 at 10:54 PM
Just so special, That 4th verse toppled my mind but the whole poem tells such a special message. Love, Elizabeth
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