Best God Is Dead Poems
The innocent criminalized, chased down with pitchforks and torches of fire. Their names dragged through the mire, by the hair, stripped of their humanity.
Meanwhile the guilty cheer with cash and jewels, with measured feet on the demonic beat. The guilty drinking the blood of the kind, like wine.
Headlines say: “God is dead,” “No one’s watching,” “The law is what we say it is.”
Will we be sorrowful for such as these when the armies of God, with Christ at the lead, tread with grapes of wrath?
God’s fruit: love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, gentleness, faithfulness, self-control.
Works of the flesh: sexual immorality, moral impurity, promiscuity, idolatry, sorcery, hatred’s, strife, jealousy, outbursts of anger, selfish ambitions, dissensions, factions, envy, drunkenness, carousing, …the practice of such things.
Turn! Repent! The suffering will relent for the innocent. The bloodguilty will be paid with unquenchable suffering. Still there is time to turn and repent. See what a good God we have. He truly loves. None of us deserve anything from his hands and yet he offers everything. Why cling to a temporary offering when you can obtain glory?! We are tested and tried. Turn and repent!
*In italics from Galatians 5 of The Holy Bible CSB
Pink Floyd said,
'All you touch and all you see
Is all your life will ever be'
Do you believe it
How can that be
A world in which there
Are no dreams
Where everything
Is only as it seems
Was Pink kidding me
If God is dead
And dreams don't exist
If love's a farce
Then I'm so miffed
And I can't breathe
I can't breathe
~Lyric Man
Note: The Pink Floyd band is legendary. Their lyrics some of the best ever written. But I didn't always agree with their message. In this simple lyric I take issue with one of their more famous lines.
Bold Nietzsche declared, “God is dead,”
Humans have killed him, so he said.
Enlightened men, all widely read,
have purged his being from their head.
God decomposed and left a stench,
That human genius cannot quench.
The promise of enlightenment
Instead of light has brought man blight.
God’s substitute, goddess reason
The symbol of man’s high treason
Has not engendered human good,
As humanists believed she would.
History and experience teach,
That man cannot perfection reach
By mere intellectual means
For evil exists in his genes.
The two world wars that men have fought,
defy claims of rational thought.
The truth is clear, mankind is flawed,
And badly needs the help of God.
The moral mess mankind is in,
Is evidence of human sin.
The death of God has brought a curse,
And made the plight of humans worse.
That God did die, is indeed true,
But from a different point of view.
God in man’s flesh came down to earth,
To live and die for man’s rebirth.
God is not dead, He is alive,
From Him humans their lives derive.
If you enlightenment desire,
Embrace God and make Him your sire.
God is Dead?
Hubris, man's nature
A God, self-proclaimed
Nietzsche opined he's dead
Conceit, we laugh and say, no way
Self-professed with special attributes
Sympathy, love, reciprocity; how divine
Exalting our human virtue
So convenient; unfortunately, so blind
We sublimate our consciousness
Valiantly creating a magnificent reality
The audacity
Willfully blind; to only see what we believe
If we were to open up our eyes - our mind
Acquiesce to the grandness, the complexity of it all
Humble
Perhaps we thrive before we fall?
Hubris, mankind's nature
In his image, we reflect piously
Nietzsche opined he's dead - and we have killed him
The narratives not about God - its about you and me
Although gay women are attractive,
Can their love be counted on,
A chemistry that’s non-reactive,
Oligarchs of Amazon?
They face perhaps same traps that we do
Think of men as only drone,
An inverse baby kind of voodoo
Makes weak labeled sex to groan.
Where all good jobs are matriarchal
Confident they know what’s best,
A standing joke the patriarchal,
Litmus test for world unrest.
The thought’s out there this might be right on
Most know men have lost the race
Is ‘Women Better’ just a long con,
Bankrupt hyssop’s sexist’s face?
Misogynistic choices kill love
‘Death to men’ no better prayer,
While teamwork puts the hand in glove,
Seems to matter both are there.
Are women victim’s of man’s error?
Most men raised by woman’s side?
Small boys ignoring all their terror,
Little men, their country’s pride.
Men seem to rule, but die in battle
Block what festers deep inside
Then led to slaughter just like cattle
‘Free’ state purchased with their hide.
A girl I loved once had obsession
Wanted more to be like man
A mom at war with her depression,
Made this seem a better plan.
I can’t report she had much luck though
One girlfriend would beat her up
A flower dressed in man’s tuxedo
Life remained a half-filled cup.
But is it nature, is it nurture
Leads us to our confused art?
Heed dying gasp of cloaked John Bircher
Even Bible plays its part!
If life for others is what you choose
This can’t guarantee you’ll win
For life in faith means you could still lose
Doing good can still be sin!
A pig, a poke, that’s all you get,
Some joy, calamity, and yet
If God is dead, get real, get hip,
There’s sure release in death’s strong grip
As poet, I see humor in
This tale I spin, the life of men
God’s presence in man’s history
And Grace that spices mystery
For human love I know exists,
In spite of pain, it still resists
The certain coming of death’s call,
Though life be short, it is your all!
Brian Johnston
February 5, 2015
I don't know if
God is Dead or Alive.
But I do know that
I'm not yet.
And if you're reading this
Neither are you.
I don't know if
I can change your mind
Or enrich your heart.
But I do know
That even in my pain
And the pain of the world
And all the trials and tribulations
That life throws at us,
We're all in this together.
Whether we like it or not.
Overpopulation is a problem.
Pollution is a problem.
Racism is problem.
There's Global Warming, Greed, Hunger, the Poor.
The list goes on and on ...
Extinction is not a solution aka war.
There are so many religions
With so many languages
That say they have the truth.
We are not alone.
We have each other.
Only we can save each other.
If only we could just
Give love a chance ...
Will you? Will you
Let love save you?
If only Hope was Dope.
I'd become its dealer.
Give it away for free.
And get everyone addicted!
Christmas comes but once a year---
Christmas comes but once a year;
We all must remember why, it's here;
It's not all about gifts and presents;
Yet, there's something more that needs to be represent;
Jesus, wonderful Savior
Wrapped up in glory
Came down
God placed Him in the womb
Of a virgin woman
Oh! now it resonates;
The power here on earth
And His glory shines
And His glory shines
Rise all
Come all ye and let's praise the King
They say, some do that God is dead
Yet we whom are saved and believe know that He lives
He is alive
My God alive
And Jesus is by His side
Christmas comes but once a year;
We all must remember why, it's here;
It's not all about gifts and presents;
Yet, there's something more that needs to be represent;
Jesus, wonderful Savior
Wrapped up in glory
Came down
God placed Him in the womb
Of a virgin woman
So in His presence
Jesus is the greatest, present
For God had wrap Him up in love
God has sent down His only beloved
Wrapped Him up in love
God placed Him in the womb
Of a virgin woman
Oh! now it resonates;
The power here on earth
And His glory shines
And His glory shines
Rise all
Come all ye and let's praise the King
Christmas comes but once a year;
But our Lord and Savior is always here;
Christmas comes but once a year;
But our Jesus is always here;
Christmas comes but once a year;
But our Jesus is always here;
12/10/18
Written words by James Edward Lee Sr. ©2018
The lone coconut tree that dared
to lean towards the sea,
gave shade to her friends while
playing on the beach.
Running half-naked so natural
to those blossoming teens,
mother's lagoon fishing straddling
the sea so blue and pristine.
Water glistening on her bare breasts
with ti-leaves as a skirt,
father hunting in the bush,
tanned and muscular without a shirt.
Other than a t-string,
he was completely nude
culturally, he was fully dressed
in a traditional tattoo.
Then the missionaries came!
Pagan worshippers too many
idols, so they said
And their One true God
Did not condone her ways.
Erotic moonlight dancing,
the young's cultural right but
like nakedness, was labeled
the devil's own delight.
They cut her hair and
she woke up wearier,
found everything foreign
was then superior.
The young's wild spirits,
broken like tamed fillies
brown skin covered
from head to their Achilles.
Mother's long tresses
made to hide in a bun
head to toe dressed in cotton,
in the heat of the sun.
Father's tattoo was a mark
of the devil's blood rites.
Respect meant wearing suits
with matching ties.
Many years later traditional dress
covered all except the face.
Confused why bare flesh in a hot place
could be such a disgrace.
Then came the tourists,
lovers and sun-seekers to paradise.
Beaches were the destination;
brown,tanned skin the ultimate prize.
New trendsetters, a see-thru blouse,
a bikini top and mini skirts.
Worst of all were the logos
"God is Dead" on their t-shirts.
They swam in near nudity
and lovers embraced on the shore.
Oblivious to bold writings in brochures,
of things banned in Samoa:
"Please respect our Culture;
Sunday only for God to be adored,
No Flesh Exposures and do your Kissing Indoors."
This is a cookie cutter culture
We all must think the same
If you're outside the PC box
Talking heads call you insane
You better hold all their values
Zombie minds.. must be lead
Christians are old fashioned
Everyone knows, God is dead
There are no absolutes today
What counts are opinion polls
Kiss the ring of our great king
Or you might end up in a hole
Blinded by group arrogance
In ignorance we all pledge
To follow cultural relevance
As we step closer to the ledge
I'm about to go James Dean
A rebel who can think and feel
Quit trying to program me
Your perfect utopia isn't real
i am lost
in the conflagration of spirit
where no philosophy abounds.
yet i love.
where are the people i crave?
am i a monster?
crafted and bolted
for purposes i can not accept?
there is yet much of God’s beauty left our great country
even in the midst of ever advancing devastation.
and there are so many who see this beauty at all costs.
but i have known so many who have felt the indifferent stare.
for them beauty is stale food
escape from the roaming gangs
a simple drip from the ceiling that stays within its catch-pan
and the eager smile of their precious infant who does not starve today.
God is dead, they say.
but the Invisible Hand thrives.
even in despair
It picks what It needs
toward Grand Assimilation,
to which i will never submit.
yes, i write today.
at least
one more day.
but i join in nothing.
yet i love.
We Will Not Comply
I never thought I’d live to see the day
When children would be taught that God is dead,
The flag we love, someone would take away,
Or leaders in corruption share a bed.
It matters not to me who ridicules;
I am American, I will rebel.
I’ll keep my God, my guns, my right to use
Free speech the truth to tell.
We never thought to live in tyranny—
Just to stand for truth could mean your life;
We need to recognize we are not free—
We will not save our country without strife.
Will we rise and claim our liberty
Or take the lies and bow to slavery?
She needs to feel in love to drive aside the night,
I love to feel in love, ONE source of joy and light,
When love is not at home, she’s sad to be alone,
When love is not in sight, the world is mine to roam.
Beginnings bring disquiet, thoughts that might implode,
Anticipation puts my heart in singing mode,
A friend’s departure makes her shadows fall,
But I hear stranger’s voices lighting up the hall.
Experience has made her doubt her heart it seems,
While all my failures just enrich unending dreams,
Her mounting fear makes her the slave of every rule,
My foolish faith makes me a 'dead' God’s guileless fool.
She stands alone in following the crowd du jour,
While I’m more fascinated by a life impure,
Imputes blame to the victim’s of life’s latest farce,
While laughingly I stoop to kiss God’s ****.
Responsibility can’t live behind her door,
It must be me, (I know I’ve heard this line before.)
One lesson learned (defining sensibility),
Seems all that happen’s my responsibility.
So childlike in her need to feel that all is well,
It fills my soul to tell her, ‘Things are going swell,’
And though it’s true her doubts at times can cause me pain,
I hunger for the chance to tell her so again.
Oct. 12, 2014
Poet's Notes:
Man's redeeming strength, woman's affirming weakness! What makes the world go round! I find it works for me! Even when it's reversed! Viva la difference, viva la diversity! May we ever aspire to the giftings of those we love without jealousy, men learning that bending is not always a sign of weakness, and women learning to trust the strength that comes from God.
The lines...
1. My foolish faith makes me a 'dead' God’s guileless fool
is meant to be tongue in cheek, i.e., even if you thought you could prove that 'God is dead' I would continue to believe in God, your proof of no consequence. I am a questioning but mindless devotee I am afraid. No God is worse than death!
and
2. While I’m more fascinated by a life impure
simply means I take to heart Christ's teaching that no one has ever reconciled himself to God through his own effort, i.e.. justification by obedience (except Christ). If God/Christ can love the sinful you and I, shouldn't I? So yes Merov Tac (PH's resident Troll), that means I feel called by God to love even you, even though I personally hate your behavior.
The God who did the cosmos spread,
is still alive, he is not dead.
Nietzsche declared that God is dead,
No wonder he soon lost his head.
The vastness of the universe
declares this God to me and you.
Only a God who’s infinite
can create what seems infinite.
The concept of infinity
reveals a godly quality.
So, though the world seems infinite
yet only God is infinite.
Infinite God, showed Infinite love
Sent down his Son, from heaven above
Bore mankind's sin, died for our race
Infinite God, showed Infinite grace.
Finite man, let thy heart ponder
Should not God's acts, inspire wonder?
Into God's grace, you are invited
Let not his love, go unrequited.
In Hades flows a Stygian river
of sorrows—a river of great despair!
It's a spiritual death that we all share
that napalms our lives and rots our liver.
Beware! Its undercurrent of dire doom
drowns us with heartless joy—it does not care,
and burdens us with more than we can bear.
We're like cadavers in a cold, stone tomb
from which can be felt and heard the death knell
where heaven is laid waste and God is dead,
as if we’re just a breath away from hell.
Here, where living souls dare not swim or tread,
we are like phantoms—like ghosts in a shell.
Yet, we fear not hell. But despair we dread!
No, my mother Atheist said,
Long live cricket, God is dead,
Debbie Downer's Nihilist thoughts,
Total negativity she taught,
This is Debbie Downer' doormat daughter,
Saturday sportsmen off to the slaughter,
Yes, God is dead,
Long live extreme sports,
That's what negative Norma said.