Best Inquisition Poems
Nobody expects
A garden inquisition
Off with their heads
John G. Lawless
6/4/2020
As most days go, this seems pretty good
Doesn't take much to affect my mood
Just a simple greeting like “Have a good day”
As I show up at the office in the nude
The reaction of coworkers sure tickles my fancy
With my dangly bits dancing around
They try not to stare but it's kind of impossible
As my studly maleness astounds
When I settle down on my black leather chair
I let out a childlike whimper
My super warm flesh on the this super cold leather
Makes me scream out the name of my vicar
The ladies gather round never ever having seen
Seventy-eight year old dangly bits
I start twisting and turning like a beautiful ballerina
Slapping a giddy-up on my hips
Well as this day goes it's not necessarily the best
Got rid of some of my inhibitions
Till the security dudes burst into the office
Felt like the Spanish Inquisition
© Jack Ellison 2014
A.W. NUTTER
A combination of sweat and urine
An unbearable stench in this cell
Odors causing my stomach to churn
Unable to eat, my final meal in hell
Nourishment was the least of my worries
Inquisitor’s whip, had cut me to the bone
Condemning me, as Gods worse adversary
Sitting in the dark, shivering and alone
Accused of consorting with the Devil
Being born in Salem, my only violation
Sadistic pleasure by the priest who's evil
Hypocrite, thanking God for his direction
Echoes of the guards approaching
Torches flickering, lighting their way
Metal keys rattle, my door is opening
Taking me by the arms, I begin to pray
The sun so bright, blinded by its light
As the guards tie me to the wooden spire
The Lords Prayer I continuously recite
Prayers to screams, as I perish in the fire
Seven hundred years ago,
do you recall what happened?
Are you aware,
do you know?
Well, it's happening again today,
so I suggest you find out
I urge you to find out right away
Wait, what's that you say,
you want to hear it from moi?
Mmm ... I don't know about that,
I'm not sure your ears can handle it
Understand this: I'm a truth-teller
I uncover hidden dark lies,
expose them to the glare of the light
In the thirteenth century,
the Roman Catholic church established a tribunal,
whose job it was to find and kill
all heretics and unbelievers
The Dark Age of the Inquisition had begun
Investigate heresy;
suppress any objections,
get a tortured confession
Fill up the dungeons,
where they're now free
to rot and die for protesting
that Christ never said, "hate thy enemies"
The Inquisition has been revived,
medieval times are once again alive
And like before,
we must trust in God to help us survive
leave my skin on sight
leave my limbs in their sockets
I believe in your god
life is a tendered spirit
Religion? the Devil's work.
Inquisition
The fire of inquisition burned deep in many a soul
millions burned at the stake or drowned in a lake
So much chaos, so much disorder
worldwide crusades against any who wouldn’t be sheep
No boundaries set, women and children were not safe
So much turmoil, so much anarchy
The actions they committed marked Christians forever
So much muddle, so much confusion
Would the Almighty condemn or condone
When things are done in the name of, is it right
So much destruction, so much hatred
The beast Alhambra
roared a violent psalm
Vile conversos
horrid moriscos,
the heretic herds
A spear thrust into
our sun’s martyred ribs
Held in hateful grips
the yellow warblers
dripped in crimson sheen
Flying like Michael
the vengeful vassal
of Aragon’s decree
“O Torquemada
Hark the righteous call
King of Suprema
Execute them all!”
Cold unfeeling wretch,
the flesh guillotine
Teeth clicking sparks
lit endless pyres
Three made Seville
weep at the sight of Friars
Revoke me as the prisoner of your heart
I have paced finitude
From wall to wall, and cannot find
The empty space
Through which electrons crawl
To post the graffitti of their freedom.
I want no parole
Exonerate me from the conviction
Of your desire
It is my gender for which I am accused
A stereotypical blame
Beside the innocense of my name.
In silence I bear
The stain against my honor
And love her more
Who spilled it there.
For it is this love
That shall be no spectator's sport
That a man is command to love
His wife, and risk his life
Until she be healed
Shall be yielded
Healing him
And still spontaneous as my dream
When since our youth
We bask in the flame of our hearts
Cupping our hands to shield the wick
Now cold
In the frozen knuckles wet with sleet.
Release me by acquital with the truth
Gender only look like alike
But there is a finer distinction
To be made by faith
And its different sensibility
For culture is absolute
Then choice
Is nothing more than a dance of masquerade
And I am no I
For there is no distinction
No boundary defining the mass
Indifferentialable
Despite the splintering bang.
No, set me apart
As individual before the inquisition of your court
My heart recants nothing
My love is my love as my love will be.
the remoteness of our lives
leaves us vulnerable to beleaguered
domestico-socio lies from out past.
free spirit offspring suffer the outrageous
slings and arrows of parental misfortunes.
our love questioned existence rehearsed
weighs them down from once of constant
smiles, to frightened, forlorn, frivolous frowns.
we bathe them in our born-again baggage,
murdering their true inter-be spirit to
frenzied, postmortem parental put downs.
will we ever lean their presence is one
of holy matrimony to be-ness, to want, to plan
to have and to hold in foreverness?
Not of stupid, misguided sexual folly,
torturing them with outdated, misguided meanness?
Let us live, love, trust as they grow.
If the meek shall inherit this Earth, they
will learn to replicate our lost, latent legacies.
oneness to none-noneness to one
And the beaten go on to adultress ruin.
Behold----------another child is born.
They all look so normal
They all look so real
You think they will help you
But they just lie, cheat, and steal
Sure there're some true ones
Sure there're some exceptions
But to truly get by
You'll have to throw out rejections
They'll drag you into their world
They'll drown you with lies
And then you'll never recover
Until the good side of you dies
You'll struggle to get back
You may even survive
But you'll find yourself in pain
Like you're inside a bee-hive
The best thing for you to do
Is to stay away from all this
You'll find yourself again
And you'll find a new bliss
You'll rarely look at them
You'll never need their favors
Just keep going down your path
And cutting through like razors
This town will destroy your mind
This town will destroy your rep.
But they'll never get you again
When you're always ahead one step
So read these bitches carefully
And don't lose track of you
Nobody can judge you now
Cause the worst of it is through
What we currently see from radical Islam
is inaccurately termed ‘anti-Semitism’
It actually is fanatical hatred of the Jews
as ancient as Abraham ~ it will inevitably lose
The spirit of inquisition lives
It suspicions and fears; it never gives
Peace, love and joy are estranged
All those around are deranged.
In the blood, mind and hearts
With each generation it starts
Over and over in mankind
Until in Jesus the Savior they find.
The New Birth miracle He brings
The D.N.A. and mindsets of kings
He, the Creator can recreate
Hope and faith with a beautiful fate.
As most days go this seems pretty good
Doesn't take much to affect my mood
Just a simple greeting like “Have a good day”
As I show up at the office in the nude
The reaction of coworkers sure tickles my fancy
With my dangly bits dancing around
They try not to stare but it's kind of impossible
As my studly maleness astounds
When I settle down on my black leather chair
I let out a childlike whimper
My super warm flesh on the this super cold leather
Makes me scream out the name of my vicar
The ladies gather round never ever having seen
An eighty year old dangly his bits
I start twisting and turning like a beautiful ballerina
Slapping a giddy-up on my hips
Well as it goes today's not necessarily the best
Got rid of some of my inhibitions
Till the security dudes burst into the office
Felt like the Spanish Inquisition
I don't care how god feels and I believe the feeling is mutual.
Irish Equines and Scottish Rubbish
Admiration's and Despondent
days
as sail will say of sewing's
days
antonym was taught with
pleasant pirch
Birch as drawn or Castled wrong
heavenly curvatures
rarely daunt
Playful men aboard, a sea
Days end nights
Arabic keys
Bought, brought at boughe
nestled beside, curries
left favorite
only and when boats as steam
are played fifth
dedicated to orders and the vice of an Admiral's Home