Best Unholy Poems
Destroy thine own brother in abject apathy
taking up arms 'midst conquering expectancy,
invoking howls of contemptible thunder
neath skies' transparency beyond trepidation,
battles' plundering captures naught of stability
nor intervention from otherworldly gods
predisposed towards earthly universal unity,
persecuting soil's divinity neath aggregate exploits
incalculable hunger upon grounds' domination,
tears were purged in the name of unholy ascendancy
deliver us from susceptible evil men chanting war cries,
congregated in humanity's blood spoils on fire
hailing flared atomic detonations' nuclear nightmare
Trumped midst castle's undeniably delusional rhetoric
Ultimately ascertained, entities' faith shall resoundingly be diminished
casting down divine dispensation bestowed pon the wrath of mankind
Categories:
unholy, allegory, conflict, corruption, fire,
Form:
Free verse
THE UNHOLY TERROR OF LITTLE TOM
The bashing sounds of thunder echo in reverberation
to the electrifying bolts of lightning that illuminated
every single room from dark to light just seconds earlier.
Sheets of rabid rain torpedo upon a leaky roof.
Broken limbs of trees tossed away by raucous sheets of sleet
ram hard against the battered frame of the small cottage.
Little Tom holds close in a fetal position
immobilized in fear and bowed down as a non person
waiting stupefied quivering and frozen in spaceless
timeless obedience to all his emotions.
The vibrations of the shaken windows
push and pull in harmonic rhythms
accelerating into a persistent succession
of unrelenting pounding pistons
upon the naked wooden structure.
Little Tom awaits in terror for the moment
when the storm gates will crash in
allowing the blizzard to surge the void
and tear obliquely at his tender
weakened shivering flesh.
He ties to hide by pressing deeper into the blackness of the night.
But the sparks of the fireplace dancing in rapid cadence
against the wall reveal the shadow of his huddled form.
Wet and convulsing in unbecoming behavior
Little Tom yells out DADDY, DADDY!
.
His father, lays dormant and unconscious
in a drunken stupor passed out and vacant
on an unmade bed.
Worn and withered forlorn and terrified Little Tom
in one last whimper, cries himself to sleep
CAK 5-16-2013
Categories:
unholy, abuse, fear,
Form:
Blank verse
A. W. Nutter
Monotonous music assaults my ears
The beat, becoming a hypnotic tone
To half clad men as nighttime nears
Dancing around their prayer stone
Worshiping the ancient engravings
A Lycan, portrayed as the master
The human reduced to groveling
Begging for mercy from his captor
The music increases in intensity
Chanting from the dancers begins
Working themselves into a frenzy
Ready to release the beast within
Random killing, is not their mission
The Trinities plan must be defiled
To destroy mans hope of salvation
The pack, seeks Bethlehem's child
As soon as transformation begins
The right hand of God will fall
Saving the son from demons sins
Gods warriors, answering the call
The mens faces begin distorting
Howls of pain, fills the night air
Signal given, warriors descending
Lycans trapped within our snare
Swords are drawn, blood is spilled
The head Lycan, begging for mercy
Raising my sword prophesy fulfilled
Last of the breed killed for his heresy
Categories:
unholy, adventure, imaginationmusic, prayer, music,
Form:
Rhyme
A Collaboration with Marti Sutherland
Circling the table before they feast, black ravens crow
bright beady eyes darting to and fro, away they go
landing on a wounded body that has not yet died
circling the skies before they feast, dark ravens cried
On their bellies through titanic grass, slimy snakes slither
forked tongues searching for innocent prey, coming hither
Reptiles crawling from under rocks, cold-blooded and chilled
their fangs leaving lethal bites, and another victim is killed
skulking in shifting shadows, deceitful humans lie in wait
Bearing no name, no face; beware of the wicked who hate
Brutal bashers who take what they want at the cost of life
Back stabbers living in a harsh world where hypocrisy is rife
Ravens, snakes and evil humans sit on thrones of deceit
Like black widows they feast on their mates when they cheat
They spin their lies so easily, like the sticky web of a spider
Beware you are not caught when their mouths open wider
Categories:
unholy, anti bullying, anxiety, art,
Form:
Choka
ISIS is a Black Vortex that has attached itself to and infected the World’s Soul . . .
Murder, Rape, Beatings, Beheadings, Destruction, and Terror,
These thugs, criminals and hooligans are the unholiest of the unholy,
The world’s painfully aghast and their victims are pawns of this horror.
A truly nefast nest of murderers, thieves and prevaricators of the lowest kind,
These thugs and their evil cronies lack any iota of human decency and scruples,
How could God tolerate these creatures in our society—such a despicable kind?
Almighty God in Heaven weeps so deeply at their unbridled savagery
But God is not here today (not yet) to stop their vicious, hideous rampage,
The Civilized World weeps so deeply at their malevolent snickering mockery.
The evil they do and foment and spread is supposedly in God’s name,
How dare they commit such a sacrilege and expect all of us to bow?
To the Civilized World their actions cry out the very worst moral shame.
It is undeniably tragic that mankind has this horrifying human cancer
In its collective DNA which bodes not well for the human species,
And 72 Virgins await them NOT as they enter the Gates of Hell—The Answer.
Nameless old and young people: men, women, children, innocent babies
Savaged by hunger, disease, injury, and an unrelenting palpable fear
Form the fodder of their ritualistic blood sacrifice as they destroy families.
All in the name of a Procrustean philosophy of nihilistic niddering nothingness . . .
Gary Bateman, Copyright © All Rights Reserved - August 24, 2014
(Rhymed Tercet)
Categories:
unholy, abuse, age, anger, angst,
Form:
Terza Rima
I was never into Holy .
Unless I step in a blessed dogs stool and was like holy .
I guess old pages prove Jesus was sacrificed on a crucifix
if salvation was his destination he came out with a win.
Conflict starts with religion.
A group of jews' sin begin a fight with outsiders and within.GOY
Those who are with, those who oppose.
What's in a name's like religion, that which we call a rose.
Isaac was saved as Ishmael was banished.
Abraham holds the secrets that inspired such a feud.
Now daily ancient opinions conquer the news,
while in truth every side on the battle will lose.
All the nonsense written through the past,
forgets that the first person born relates to the last.
All the stories passed though time,
nevers mentions you are you and I am I.
TRUTH
Categories:
unholy, art, beauty, war, wisdom,
Form:
Blank verse
The Unholy Donut
Void, vacant, empty is my life
Of cream filled treasures
More value there than is the princess virgin
On Sunday where the need’s more urgent
After church and prayers
And rushing with a crashing passion speed
To donut shop with my craven need
Where is my cream filled donut please?
Did I not pay my last three pennies for my treat?
What’s this defeat?
Alas! My dreams are dashed.
The donut is there but not intact
Someone stole the sweet interior
Missing is the Bavarian cream
Absconded from the scene
Missing like a long lost love at sea
Lost like my mind and memory
And like my first love,
Pretty on the outside but empty within
Oh cold cruel world! Where could it be?!
What have I done to deserve such wicket fate and misery?
My just deserts snatched from me from the depths of hell
Some demon monster stole my soul and prize as well
And sold it on the internet I’m sure for pennies more
Advertised by shape, size and smell
Waitress? Oh waitress? Could I have another donut please?
But this time with a hole inside
….something to hold on to with no surprise
Till the day I die
Categories:
unholy, absence, feelings, fun, passion,
Form:
Rhyme
You send your drones to spy and bomb .
Your soldiers shoot us one by one .
Yet it is our land that you stand on .
You deny us supplies of life saving drugs.
you send your soldiers, well government thugs.
and secret agents with listening bugs.
You build a wall around your towns .
and occupy our ancestral grounds.
while all the time, the war drum sounds.
I find this so hard to understand
when this plainly is not your land
And no, god does not give out free land
Yet your history is strewn with strife
of millions killed so cruelly stripped of life.
please respect others way of life.
If you don't you will only reap
the tears of your children as they weep
as your nation falls into an unethical deep sleep
you need to feed the dove of peace
and make the senseless killing cease
Inspired by seekers blog poetry as a weapon , Poetry can carry a message good or bad and cause debate Its what the reader takes from it . The subject was picked because I read the below piece .
A famous Palestinian poet as just had his work translated into English https://electronicintifada.net/content/robust-world-great-druze-poet/19056
Categories:
unholy, political, war,
Form:
Free verse
Why do they hate so?
They expound forgiveness
But malign half of humanity
It is the gravest sin
That they do not wish to know
The human race cannot exist
Without a mixture of men and women
Men crave priority
While the woman is meant to follow
Through ignorance and machismo
They delete themselves from posterity
The creed of embracing all that they preach
Forgotten when selecting the gods
That inhabit their one sided hierarchy
They court and woo controversy
Discriminating on a grand scale
The X chromosome
Must have only a reproductive role
Of no spiritual worth
A selfish message they send
To future generations
Today will be tomorrows past
Spitefulness will be all they have to tell
To a more liberal generation
Who may think ; what the hell!
The stain of no sisterly love
Does imperil
The hard fought for longevity of a church
That for some is the centre of society
Stifling female advancement
Is a wanton disregard for the maker
Who created all in his image
We are told that
He loves us all
No matter if we wear pants or skirts
The soul it seems has no sex
Side-lined for their femininity
Traduced for being as god created
Women are second class in a world
Where acceptance of the divine
Should outweigh gender dog fighting
A shaky foundation is today’s Christian ethos
The lack of understanding and
The ability to forgive
Has reduced respect for a beacon of society
A grievous and irrevocable manoeuvre
The male domination of the soul
Is but a wilful and audacious folly
The human race will not exist
If women are thought of as a bother
To look at the future of the church
Is to gaze into a cloudy ball
The smoke of destruction evident to all about
Except the Don Quixotes
Who stubbornly fight the inevitable
Bolstered by their own ill will
The health of the church
Is paramount for its survival
The acceptance of those who believe
Irrespective of their genes will extend
The work on earth of Christ above
Let us worship and serve god as one
Categories:
unholy, future, gender, god, religious,
Form:
Prose Poetry
Sunday morning's allure peels
Pedophiles click their heels
Sunday School an open door
Fleshy choices on the floor
Parent's trust in Holy God
While evil men sheepskin shod
Eye their apples on the job
Which to tickle poke or bob
The jolly knight's chief desire
Blond hair blue eyes he'd require
The Scotsman chants lyric verse
With boys alone he'd converse
The coat of many colors,
He'd slip between boys covers
In church, at prayers so divine
Poor mums, they receive no sign
Pius pastors' theology
Teaches on Pistology
Their divine career assured
The Sods left un-turned accord
Sing on all in Holy Song
Blind the mothers right or wrong
Move Minister to Bishop
Precious Pawns instead they chop
Alone in Saint Ives to rot
Categories:
unholy, abuse, betrayal, christian, evil,
Form:
Bio
The Devil Cometh Tonight
The fright of this unholy night
says the Devil cometh tonight
to capture my soul
before I grow old,
it is told
on this night.
God, save my soul on this dark night,
by your true grace make it all right,
save my holy soul
so I may grow old,
being bold
this dark night.
Gary Bateman, Copyright © All Rights Reserved
November 13, 2018 (Clogyrnach)
Categories:
unholy, dark, death, evil, fantasy,
Form:
Verse
THE UNHOLY DEAD
He would take her to heaven if she chose to go
but her world's just a place for the dead,
if she had a solution he wanted to know,
in a while it would be in his head.
All her world is a place for the unholy dead
she might answer his question two times,
in a while he might see, but will lose it instead
holding out for an answer that rhymes.
she might answer his question, and answer it twice,
"yes I love you but don't want to go,"
so he holds out much longer because of the price
of the things that he never should know.
"Yes I love you but it's not time for me to leave,"
she has told him, but didn't explain,
"Love is something you never should know nor believe,
unless you are a sweet summer rain."
Yes she told him, but didn't tell all that she knows,
he can't see how she loves him so much,
like a sweet summer rain she appears and then goes
to the heaven he wants her to touch.
He can't see how she loves him, his heart is so blind,
nor that they are in heaven--but how?
And he wants so to touch her, and then he will find
they're together in heaven right now.
How they got to heaven, she said time and again,
"I have loved you much longer than me,"
and together in heaven, they see how love's been
for as long as a true love can be.
She has loved him much longer than sweet summer rain
and before she was ever a child,
for as long as a true love that's hard to explain,
from where-ever a true love is filed.
And before she was young, in her place of the dead,
they were younger than love ever knows,
and where-ever love is, in the heart or the head,
they've gone into where-ever love goes.
© ron wilson
Categories:
unholy, angst, art, black african
Form:
Pantoum
UNHOLY WATERS
The shaman beats his drums
Summons spirits to come
Speaking in animal tongues
The Earth is in his songs.
He passes through the light
With his second sight
He searches for the parts of soul
To make the broken whole.
These are unholy waters to some
Certainly not the Chosen Ones;
Darkness will descend,
Where we begin we end.
The priest blesses the wine
Suddenly it is blood divine.
“Drink it!”, he exclaims.
“Drink it in His name.”
He speaks of saving souls,
The greatest story ever told.
No death for all believers,
Damnation to all sinners.
These are unholy waters to some
Certainly not the Chosen Ones;
Darkness will descend,
Where we begin we end.
To side with Evolution
Is to commit a ‘mortal’ sin.
What about entanglement?
Not written in the Ten.
“Spooky action at a distance”;
Met with such resistence.
Science has its Big Bang,
Was God there when it began?
These are unholy waters to some
Questions of belief and the words
Not from what tree we descend,
Where we begin we end.
Categories:
unholy, native american, philosophy, religion,
Form:
Lyric
Rays of the sun reflected my sinful image on a blood river
got every wrongful part of me to quarrel and shiver
happiness is what i sought, remorse is for givers
every natural-colored spot ON my heart turned silver
Inspiration was my fantasy, clouds were my sky
death scares me,yet i desire it, desire to die
was it shame? shame that i see with blinded eyes
never saw glittered water, ON the surface of the sun they hide
What did i do so wrong?! for God to choose me a sinner
the horizon line infront of my dead soul's corpse got thinner
even the power of nature couldn't uncast HIS deadly glamour
my wish in life was to win yet i lost,never been a winner
Life has tightened its strains on that poor heart of mine
Did I? did i indeed have a heart? to feel how LOVE could be so divine
but yet , all my sins were purified, by the scene of the horizon line
taught me that at times, forgiveness , was the crime of all crimes
Grandeur i did not seek, i realized, it was only a fake wish
a gesture to my undecided inner-self,with hidden pureness so rich
recently knew how heart pain was nothing like a normal stitch
If Jesus Christ u believed, then how could you my other cheek ditch?
For if you felt it at its peak, you would have utterly known
that DEATH was your close friend, and I pushed him away to the unknown
you wouldn't have given me those looks, those ocean-roars,those frowns
if only you knew how much i begged the clouds , "thee not ,at her, throw stones"
then you would have saved my soul , saved our sacred vow , saw our blond sons
shared the feeling of bliss and GRANDEUR with your love, the unholy one !!
My source of inspiration (L)
Categories:
unholy, forgiveness, loveme, heart, desire,
Form:
Verse
Over the toll bridge a young lord and prince
from the realm of Epsom landed Birkdale,
to seek sweet raptures in my limerence
by she possessed of its Unholy Grail.
In the virgin waters of Point Erin
stood a siren in her fair beauty all -
my heart dared to want and its flesh of sin
did upon her besotting favours call.
Remembered are the concubines of court -
a fire in my codpiece and in my jocks,
the jousting grey knights whom over you fought
and a Celtic Queen in long flaxen locks.
O’ what forbidden enchantment was she
and what soft lingering kiss given me.
Written: April 1994
Categories:
unholy, beauty, girl, lost love,
Form:
Sonnet