Best Blasphemers Poems
Perilous Times
Written: by Miracle Man
September 25, 2020
Lord, Hear our prayers as we intercede,
on behalf of our troubled world today.
Disobedient people good thoughts impede,
and each day brings some new affray.
Today we are living in those perilous times,*
that you said the last days would bring.
The media reports daily on riots and crimes,
change our hearts before death bell’s ring.
*2 Timothy 3:1-4
1 This know also, that in the last days perilous times shall come.
2 For men shall be lovers of their own selves, covetous, boasters, proud, blasphemers, disobedient to parents, unthankful, unholy,
3 Without natural affection, trucebreakers, false accusers, incontinent, fierce, despisers of those that are good,
4 Traitors, heady, highminded, lovers of pleasures more than lovers of God;
We are not objective when it serves us.
Weighing scripture carefully, thoughtfully.
Yes, it hurts,
it stabs with two-jagged sides.
But, what is its worth?
It gets all of us
blasphemers, idol worshippers, adulterers,
thieves, liars, coveters, pleasure-seekers
and the lot.
It hurts…it hurts.
It helps,
it moves us
away from danger
He saves us,
heals us through purification of truth.
We don’t want the angels circling,
saying,
“Woe, woe to the inhabitants of the earth…”
Instead, I’d rather be invited
into His kingdom,
oh how precious those jewels, those riches
that we gave up
in order to have it all.
Guess what? You can have it all!
Not the sad imitation, impression, bare bones,
but the great euphoria of the highest heaven.
We’ll bow.
We will all bow.
Some will bow in great delight.
The rest, in great remorse.
The test is now.
It is not a trick.
Right now, God is an open book.
Take a look, long as if thirsty,
unregrettably searching
for that
which you would sell all for.
Don’t sell your soul to whoever you think your god is.
Instead submit to the One who made you
and longs to give you true and abiding everlasting love.
Drink!
In ancient Greek philosophy
and science, Earth was named as one
of a quartet of elements.
The other three of great import,
we're taught, were water, air, and fire.
The ancients named four "humours," one
to parallel each element.
Black bile was most like earth--described
as heavy, cold, and dry. These points
were taught in Aristotle's time.
The Pythagoreans declared
that Earth revolved around the Sun.
"Blasphemers!"--the response from some.
The ancients also found that Earth's
a sphere, not flat, as most believed.
Much knowledge of this element
called Earth is based on what was learned
before the time of Christ about
geometry, cartography,
and medicine . . . the list goes on.
March 9, 2016
Four are not shallow,
Two are the great blasphemers,
The other betrays
~
Three don't have freedom,
Two are remaining behind,
The other betrays (as well as coward)
~
Only one out of four is doing better..
Secret knowledge divulged, transportation via Oracle.
Open your closed minds, decipher the great parable.
Order out of chaos, alpha point of eternity.
Mirthful muse master, calling for a return to intimacy.
Smugness borne of ignorance, case of closed-minded fools.
Dysfunctional mentality, disregarding laws and rules.
Invisible fire-mist creatures, sexually perversed.
Seeking to infect mortals, with dose of spiritual curse.
Source of mystical knowledge, tapped-in by skilled mediums.
Marvellous man-made machines, in likeness of cherubums.
Mind-shattering formula, pure artificial illusion.
Great divine manifesto, accident or omen?
Futuristic message made known, precognition handy.
Deep-sleep fancy dreams, no existence beyond memory.
Imprinted fiber in being, a walking time-bomb.
Inevitable cataclysm, inner senses made numb.
Acquired too much power, turning a course corrupt.
Vengeful neighbors lurk, only revenge their minds opt.
So-called all-seeing, all-knowing--blasphemers!
Idolized and gleefully praised, by foolish worshipers.
Omega point of time, hard truth made manifest.
Psychopathic personalities, playing the weak like chess.
Questioning and prodding minds, a strive to discover.
Eat while you still can, 'fore the great Beast devour!
Stepping backwards into our future,
blowing into the bag of our achievements.
Fabric stretching reality; ready to burst
Indianapolis track of progression.
Conscience, hard wired from the system
and morality, a discarded well worn tyre.
Digging mines to bury nature,
while we sing a laments lie.
Wailing that our television dreams
no longer satisfy.
Rosacea landscapes “proudly” proclaim
testaments to our “care.”
While we machinate on peaceful accords.
(A bloody blade already drawn.)
Subfusc faces, in rainbow towns,
knock fairytales to the ground,
all wrapped in debts boa embrace
we wear our plastic crowns.
Hero’s come, hero’s go,
like ice cream around children.
Old warriors barricade park bench castles,
sipping 100% proof amnesia.
A generation weaned on high fibre ignorance,
apathetically observing Pandora’s box.
Glibly strutting towards suicidal genocide
beneath peroxide standards of progress.
Do you see the white flag of innocence?
Blowing in the ether of bull-sh1t.
Do you see the hand of hope?
Dead flesh from the severed arm.
Do you see the words of faith?
That fall so easily from blasphemers lips,
and what of love; a four letter word spelled f-u-c-k.
An enlightened people? We shield our eyes,
bounce from walls of our tunnel vision.
Forever throwing problems at the framework,
expecting it to hold.
The faster we run, the slower we move,
sowing dreams on barren ground.
Death; we’re breast-fed on its demands.
Can’t you hear the world screaming,
or is fairground music to loud?
Evolving devolution,
green-mile macadam,
we rush to oblivion.
Young and solitary homeless girl
With sky-colour eyes
Wearing a haggard
And consumed makeup
The blond hair that betrays
Your young age
Melted like golden filaments
On minute shoulders
Soon you were taken
From the jigs
With your friends
That now share with you
Only a hellish destiny
Deaf to the pedestrian who
Gives you a few coins
Remnants of a long night
In a sumptuous restaurant
Your childhood has been
Stolen from you
By a violent father and his
Evil companions
Now you have flashbacks
And nightmares
Of your past life
That chains your mind
While you try to soothe it by self-harm
In the long nights
Under the stars
No more love and friendship
But only the annoying attentions
Of the drunk man
Or the blasphemers
Or the unknown chap
In the stench of an abandoned house
You find your modern slavery
A meagre plate of soup
Oat but no treats
The cold of the night
Looking through the window a
Distant Moon
A nude and worn out mattress
As couch and agony
And some change
To continue singing
A distant litany
But from a few days
Your hope has strengthened
As lightning
After that in tears
You rushed into a nearby chapel
They have returned
You a solar white
And the desired love
Your faith, evening Vespers
And your alms in a
Wooden chest
In every pantry far and wide
are noodles waiting there inside.
On every plate in every nook,
on pages of all cooking books...
The slivered fingers of spaghetti,
the twisted hats of capilletti,
the hollow curves of macaroni,
the pockets of a ravioli...
No matter what the shape, the size
of pasta dried in posed disguise
I'm goddess of the yummy noodle
in every style, the whole caboodle.
In every kitchen I've a church
an altar where my shapes are perched
and worshippers bow heads o'er me
and pray for more that's yet to be.
It's rare that I am found offended
my filling, flavor recommended;
but tasteless, blasphemers be boiled,
their sacrilegious farts be foiled!
Disarm the tacky ketchup villains
before they commit noodle sin!
You will meet a false christian or even two,
Making money off of Gods' back and then you,
Selling books about blasphemers to get paid,
Scarring the Lords' heart with page bound and laid.
In words I paint myself
on the canvas of the world,
and patiently wait for the day
I'm completed.
Blasphemers will burn me,
and light will turn black...
"No monster walked the Earth," they will weep
and tremble...
No!
It will have been... I...
I will have been
reneged redemption.
Inhuman Population
They try to tell us we need therapy,
that these feelings are unnatural.
The small minded are trapped in the mechanism of a robot
thus their attack of judgment are so practical
The union of two spirits should always be celebrated
two hearts,
two magnetic forces,
two naturally resourceful elements
have no right to be separated, deprivated, segregated
or proclaimed as demons, blasphemers or as an inhuman population.
We each have a purpose, provide a service
and contribute to lives and societies!
but our earth is so divided into
separate types and varieties that we’re blinded
by ignorance and hateful indifference with one another.
When we share
the same land
the same soil
the same air
the same oil
while tearing each other down in turmoil.
When this atmosphere was put here
to share our love, our life, our freedom, our rights,
to hear a lovers name gives the same reaction
to touch a lovers hand signifies the same attraction
A love that is just as pure and everlasting should never be outcasted!
For the one who sparks the fire in my eye
is the only one in whom I wish to stand by
and the one who supplies the rainbow after my storms
is the only one I refuse to be torn from!
and our lives and our existence is this……
So alive, so fruitful, so rich
so warm, so sheltering, so thick
like an ambience of united puzzle shaped pieces
that fit!
We refuse to remain in silence and fright
We refuse to give up insight
refuse to lose the fight
for love has no image
and we ALL deserve equal RIGHTS!
Repeal Prop 8 Now!
the bible is just a book
no, not just a book.
a holy book written of the word
the word of god himself
it tells you to hate
discriminate
put down all who arent you
because they are sinners
blasphemers
adulterers
liars thieves
and individual
all i think is
you cannot deny
human nature
no terror by night or arrow by day can devour or destroy me or lead me astray
the devil gets played as prophets get paid
diminsihed is darkness as light takes the stage
rebellion and rage turn to love,law,and order
another dummy gets dropped
another demon gets murdered
they get lost in 4ever in their own hellish haze
no terror by night or arrow by day
no terror by night or arrow by day can pierce through my armor as giants get slain
cut to peices and cashed like bloody paydays
mudermasks crumble in a maniacs maze
rusty cages fall apart
and end to the evil
goodness gets a new start
blasphemers bark but they have no bite
running 4ever in that neverending night
ridin on empty they all get derailed from their slow motion suicide trains
no terror by night or arrow by day
no terror by night or arrow by day can confuse me,confound me,abuse or abase
strong and holy hands they always keep me safe
on crooked paths or narrow roads His story gets told
to the rich,to the poor,to the young,to the old
bold as a lion with His bravery
end to the song that is sad soul slavery
shackles of sin they shatter and break
no terror by night or arrow by day
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When men become idols
For coaching winning teams,
We shroud them in cloaks of integrity
Or so, at times, it seems
We erect facades of honor
Feeling that they can do no wrong
And they start to believe in this themselves
When the idolization goes on too long
When the facades start to crack
As facades are apt to do
We are shocked when their mortality
Through the cloak starts to shine through
Worshippers will stoop to any means
To get their hero off the hook
Making out the idol as the victim
While the real victims get overlooked
And those who deserve our sympathy
Continue to suffer in their private hell
Being made to feel like blasphemers
For the story they tried to tell
Last Days
Written: by Miracle Man
1/27/2021
Like Sodom and Gomorrah the world is living,
we’re compromising daily, our morals, in stages.
Hurrying through life harboring some misgiving,
burning precious time, turning our last pages.
As clock time, becomes more time foregone,
we grasp for straws thought to be inspiring.
In time, many become an emotional pawn,
and the straws grasped, were seldom aspiring.
2 Timothy Chapter 3
1 This know also, that in the last days perilous times shall come.
2 For men shall be lovers of their own selves, covetous, boasters, proud, blasphemers, disobedient to parents, unthankful, unholy,
3 Without natural affection, trucebreakers, false accusers, incontinent, fierce, despisers of those that are good,
4 Traitors, heady, highminded, lovers of pleasures more than lovers of God;
5 Having a form of godliness, but denying the power thereof: from such turn away.