Best Worshiper Poems
N ever again will the Tribes of Israel be the sacrificial lamb of man.
A nnealed in furnaces not in Olam HaEmet by the Almighty "the World of Truth."
Z ealots rose from the ashes of the ovens and now defend like Sicarii of old.
I srael blooms and grows in the desert, returned by Allied Forces to the cauldron.
H ome to the Holy Land, sent, shipped, caste surrounded by Arab foe, isolated.
O vens melted their hearts, striped their forms for their souls held no intrinsic value.
L ampshades and shoes made from their skin, jewelry from the gold in their teeth.
O rders given by The Third Reich obeyed without conscious. The herd was culled.
C hrist-killer the Christian mind said, devil worshiper, their deaths were acceptable.
A nti-Semitism always has been and always will be a threat to Jews everywhere.
U nited, Jews must form a majority in Israel, so Jews everywhere feel safe.
S anctuary will never again being denied, Israel will be safe haven from persecution.
T o a future where all men have worth regardless of race, creed or religion, pray.
*Thanks to Arild Andresen Ertsland for his inspiring
From the Ashes
Categories:
worshiper, faith, history,
Form:
Verse
How lovely, isn't
It, to have an 'off' switch, shotty wiring
And all,
And a presence lined up to ****?
They are always there
To cauterize the wounds of emotional castration
Without desire to examine
The blood pattern forensics,
Chalking the splatter up
To an affinity towards Jackson Polluck.
Tears are to the meek
As injury is to the bold,
Chastity is to pureness
As promiscuity is to curiosity.
And what
Supplemented activity relates to the character
Defect of an over-eager search for validation?
How surreal a menagerie constructed from
Syringes full of sunshine.
Currency crusted by blood in place of worth,
Hopeful scribbles of the pale and placid carrying
Small flecks of over packed bags under the eye
Can seem when sunlight filters through rose colored lenses;
How frighteningly apparent
Connect-the-dot freckles and
Spasms of the left cheek and
Teddy bear smiles and
Xylophone ribs and
Bits of skin ghosted from lips become
When refracted by a Narcissus pond—
How I m p o r t a n t,
How appropriate these sentiments:
Perfect companions for the rolled-up-carpet's journey
Of finding permanence along river bottom
Set into the silt and framed with waving algae:
A'voir, piggyback consistencies,
Meet oblivion in shreds
Blown out the back end of the skull
In the instant chapped lip worshiper meets collarbone shrine.
Such ready to leech services are no longer
A necessity
In the four hours of chemically enhanced rawness
Stuffed with bile and bruise and suck and lie
Hollowed of meaning,
Save for the proverbial cholesterol of hope clogged in pores.
But I awake in numbness,
Cold and invalid,
With my head pressed on Doubt's chest
And my fingers knotting in its own
Begging to be warm again.
Categories:
worshiper, abuse, addiction, angst, courage,
Form:
Free verse
Fear recalled; the taste of sweat in retreat, when
one can never seem to run far enough or fast enough.
Remembering the Christian children’s chants of
devil worshiper, atheist; the taunting hell they saw
for those not blessed to be themselves.
The jeer of the crowd for those apart, the mob
mentality of the Christian heart, the damn you if
you’re not me to a girl of eight, defies any amount
of time to heal. Memories are not obliterated.
Breathless behind a hollow-core door, gasping
tears, a heart pounding to the beat of fists on panel;
fear recalled as bile rose; hate thrown, the Jew bated.
This was only an inkling of what Tanta felt.
Nineteen fifty-six, eleven years after the end of WWII,
I saw the numbers burned into my families’ skin,
the ones still alive to show them to a child of eight.
-broken glass nights, crowded trains, death camps
New England was still gripped in a Christian hell,
at eight, at twelve, at eighteen—and every Christmas
in between—don’t speak, don’t tell, don’t let them
know you’re different—different, hated, taunted,
chased, and if possible erased.
Prejudice knows no boundary of time or place, the
fear, the mob, the gang, the chanting group, alive
still in the 21st century. When you kneel, and pray,
even when you say Amen.
First Published by Synchronized Chaos Spring 2015
Categories:
worshiper, anger, angst, bullying, fear,
Form:
Free verse
I never really understood people until I took apart my old school chum Rick.
Now I know exactly what makes the human heart tick.
The intricacy of the human circuitry is Gods most artful work without uncertainty.
Like a great operatic performance accompanied by a grand orchestra, all our organs sing as one and all together.
To give such life as this in a manor of theatrical grandeur, but life comes at a cost however, this is something that we can not sever, for one soul to live it must take from another.
You see hunting a human is just like hunting any animal, you always track those that are weak and incapable.
I study those that indulge greatly in life's pleasurable sins, I always proceed to take them apart starting with their limbs.
To squander such a gift is a crime against those souls no longer living.
It is a crime that should be dealt with swiftly and unforgiving.
You may find my words harsh and cruel but punishment is dealt where punishment is due.
The scholars and gossips call me a Devil worshiper or a Satanist.
But I am an admirer of God and I dream to be like him, a great creationist.
To some I'm known as the mad doctor who haunts the river Rhine, but to my acquaintances I'm known simply as Victor Frankenstein.
Categories:
worshiper, dark, death, evil, gothic,
Form:
Narrative
Satan the great temptor
What is he tempting us to do?
A fallen Angel that wants us to worship him? instead of God?
Ask a devil worshiper and they will explain: they worship themselves.
That is what devil worship is.
Devil worship is an action not a religion.
It is worshipping your happiness and that of YOUR family.
What is evil? but human selfishness?
Is any evil ever done that is not human induced?
Isnt the rest, just acts of God?
Natural disasters? Accidents? Animal attacks?
The need for power, greed, more than another.
The gratification in people looking up to us is our ecstasy.
The joy in having more than another is our peace.
Do you have the new flatscreen or the best car?
A big house to show off to others? Your success?
Success in beating down others makes us happy.
Member of the country club? Beautiful mate? Smart kids?
Me, Me, Me, I, I, I.
We all do it, we are trained too as small children. Capitalism.
Giving up on selfishness is the most difficult thing a human can do.
In my culture, we worship Satan: The devil: Ouselves: Individualism.
We are tempted to put our family before anyone else and follow the temptation.
Stop lying to yourself, you do also. Lets just admit it.
We are selfish, and that is Devil Worship.
Categories:
worshiper, introspection, life
Form:
What can I say?...
A poem... Some words... more than statements I desire
Like a longing of something you don't even know
Having a feeling of hunger but not for what is not food
The feeling of young lovers saying a goodbye they never meant to bid.
A wish of a day that meant so much to our hearts!
What can I say?... I guess if I may ask...
what can you expect as the candid guesses of a novice poet?
I'm trying my best although trying might not be too impressive on a day of birth as time with eternity!
A flying kite my dear is without season!
A never ending excellent soars without fears
A best companion you are without a debt of love
A never leaving Soul in a barren friendship until it lives and bears fruit
What can I say?...
She is nice, neat and needful
A worshiper who became Worship through worshipping
A minister who ministered to many to become a ministry to God
A birthday wish... a song... a prayer... a heart... to Christ... her sacrifice...her day to be
celebrate with passion
I know what to say, not with words but with a heart
Happy birthday my dear!
Categories:
worshiper, birthday, love,
Form:
Dramatic Monologue
Satan over the years has been known for tricks and deception
Not only covering up what he is doing, but what he has done
One has to give him credit as he is very successful, but beware
He and his people are always looking for a new invention
And he is one tricky old son of a gun
Very private about where they worship if you can call it that, don't want you there
In the old desert around El Paso, Texas, can be very a dangerous place
The scorpions and rattlesnakes are tame compared to Satan
The Mexican border, Drug smuggling and devil worship are on a rampage
With the rotten and evil, he will show his face
Again they will try to cover it up if they can
But when discovered, they are filled with rage
Native Americans have used "the Sweat Lodge" for hundred's of centuries
In the religious rites to cleanse a spirit or a soul
Their way of getting closer to God, sometimes they use peyote
Now Satan's people have stolen the idea, it is uses varies
Where they think in drug altered minds that they are in control
And once again old Satan is the coyote
At their rituals it looks like a white plastic covered igloo
In the middle of tall mesquite bushes near a bonfire
In a large fire pit in the flames, lava rocks are left to bake
Around a bonfire they dance and chant, do what lesbian witches do
In the sweat lodge, drugs make all of Hell go haywire
Drugs are poured on the molting rocks, the steam is a witches dream
Not man Native Americans in El Paso, that use a sweat lodge
So there is no legitimate reason for one to be there
But to devil worshiper, it is just a desguies
And another way for Satan to corrupt the sweat lodge
But all is seen that goes on there
Nothing hides from God's eyes
Categories:
worshiper, native americanold, people, old,
Form:
I, a long forgotten tune; you, a melody sweet and bold
How will then our reunion be in this splendid world
One is a jewel in the crown, the other dust –no worth
One is the shinning star in horizon, the other part of earth
How to meet the endless yearnings of my brainless heart
It forsakes all that I urge and I decry its part
Priests and preachers are men of vision; I regard them right
I am a humble worshiper of love; with them, I have no fight
In vain are, the prudence and vision, casting their glow and light
Cloaked in the darkness of ones deeds, life is a moonless night
Darkness is casting its shadow on life, but why Yamin, complain
Love, fragrance and colour fade out and not life-long sustain
Categories:
worshiper, devotion, hope, lost love,
Form:
Ghazal
Love all but trust a few
a secret shared is no more
in the hidden dark corner.
“I fell from a Tree” to a best friend
was jokingly said in a serious conversation
which ended with “don’t tell anyone”
The connection is endless and remarkable;
friends are friends to other friends of friends,
the subject passes by, amusement is derived
“she has bad breath and now falls from Trees”?
Is the recap of a story
ending with a plea not to tell anyone.
In a place of worship, giving thanks,
a congregant sees
and shakes her head in innocent pity.
“she’s done well, considering her jobless status,
taking care of medical bills
for halitosis and accidents”
“don’t tell anyone” is said
to the next worshiper who hears.
In the supermarket, an item is forgotten
from afar, a middle-aged lady
brings such to attention.
After much gratitude comes a careless remark
“its herbal tooth-wash
especially good for
the accident-woman with a bad breath”.
“Oh sorry,
that suppose to be
a secret, or do you know her”?
He speaks with a smile, still in appreciation,
as she regresses her obvious limping steps
in sadness and shame,
the result of her untimely sneeze
sums up the great clue of her identity.
Many ears can’t just be avoided
by an unleashed secret!-is her regret.
Categories:
worshiper, anxiety, betrayal, character, community,
Form:
Prose
Enjoy your friendship with the almighty God
Who owns you as His child by virtue of the Savior’s redemptive blood
Whom you should submit to beyond willingness’ nod
With “My life is Yours; make it fruitful using Your staff and rod…
…While nourishing me midst Your blessing-flood.”
Delight in your friendship with the mighty Deliverer
Who rescues you as His ransomed thru His ready power
Whom you should rely on when fighting the devouring seeker
With “My gratitude is Yours; welcome it as coming from a truthful worshiper…
…While securing me inside Your peacefulness-cover.”
Treasure your friendship with the majestic King
Who reigns above you as His citizen thru His supreme celestial marking
Whom you should bow down to against worldly trekking
With “My heart is Yours; guard it from hypocrisy’s lurking…
...While granting me the pure motives of holy deeds I’m asking.”
Cherish your friendship with the sovereign Lord
Who leads you as His steward to be faithful according to His Word
Whom you should cleave to in overcoming selfishness’ discord
With “My commitment is Yours; seal it against infidelity’s sword…
…While keeping me inside Your grace only You can afford.”
Grow in your friendship with the perfect Creator
Who fashions you as His masterpiece, workmanship of omniscient operator
Whom you should esteem along your whole body-motor
With “My labor is Yours; approve it, being the wisest evaluator…
…While developing me for effective service, since You’re the best educator.”
Thank your friendship with the chief Shepherd
Who guides you as His lamb by His voice which can be spiritually heard
Whom you should abide in to fulfill fully what’s required to be offered
With “My sacrifice is Yours; accept it midst prayers I’ve humbly uttered…
…While restoring me whenever from Your revival I’m severed.”
Affirm your friendship with the righteous Authority
Who rules over you as His follower throughout triumphant eternity
Whom you should obey for glorious ministry upon genuine sincerity
With “My love is Yours; nurture it around Your mercy-compassion’s bounty…
…While ushering me toward Your will of victorious certainty.”*
*Psalm 62:7 In God is my salvation and my glory: the rock of my strength, and my refuge, is in God.
April 19, 2018
Categories:
worshiper, appreciation, blessing, christian, faith,
Form:
Rhyme
Roy retelling a story of his so-journey
to the land of splendor the land of light
there our Roy stated his case and found favor
amina thanks giving prayers offered in good time
would soon offer comfort and solace to our Roy
Roy claims them heavenly creatures
said to him.. if ever you are to evade the trap
of disease, poverty and the lack of essential then
you to become a worshiper of money and materialism
banainganya mfano hela... its the worship of money
Roy the first to embrace the light declared
never ever will i worship money or materialism
Mola who is the supreme creator Roy now worships
our Roy suffers no need or want.. MOLA nakupenda sana..
an intonation to Roy's love for the supreme creator... amin
lewis k nyaga
Categories:
worshiper, christian, creation, inspirational, islamic,
Form:
Narrative
You the vitriol acid in my veins
the forbidden steroid wasting my heart
you the demon tantalizing my soul
You are my mortal sin.
You the inflammatory infection on my skin
the chaotic dark angel corrupting my peace
you the lord exploiting this worshiper
you are my confound defeat.
You the saccharine addiction
the indestructible weakness
you the worse kind of right
you are my darkest light.
.... .... ..... .....
Categories:
worshiper, for him, how i
Form:
Verse
January 3 Scripture Meditations Based on Genesis 6-8
Key Verse - Genesis 6:8 But Noah found grace in the eyes of the LORD.
MY GOD, THANK YOU FOR ALLOWING ME TO FIND GRACE IN YOUR EYES
To find grace in Your eyes, Lord, is a blessing
Despite my carnality of sinfulness’ cursing
Praise be to You for salvation-bracing
Making me Your child with eternal life possessing.
To find grace in Your eyes, Lord, is a privilege
Despite my flesh-strivings of pride’s knowledge
Praise be to You for righteousness-imputation I acknowledge
Making me Your saint with new creation toward heavenly mileage.
To find grace in Your eyes, Lord, is a time of gladness
Despite my selfishness hiding in hypocrisy’s brightness
Praise be to You for Your mercy and forgiveness
Making me Your convert toward transformation along holiness.
To find grace in Your eyes, Lord, is a sure victory
Despite my vain cravings and worldly thoughts’ flurry
Praise be to You for Your sanctification-glory
Making me Your follower who walks with You, proclaiming Your story.
To find grace in Your eyes, Lord, is a proof of Your approval
Despite my failures attributed to enemies hindering my survival
Praise be to You for Your power causing my prayer-filled revival
Making me Your will-abider shut in Your prevailing love-festival.
To find grace in Your eyes, Lord, is a service-motivation
Despite my unfaithfulness brought by fleshly corruption
Praise be to You for Your steadfast compassion
Making me Your steward who complies to Your instruction.
To find grace in Your eyes, Lord, is a desire of my heart
Despite my zeal assuaged, abated and restrained by iniquity’s dart
Praise be to You for wisdom propelling my being from the start
Making me Your worshiper offering sacrifice with sweet savoured part.
January 3, 2022
Categories:
worshiper, blessing, christian, faith, god,
Form:
Rhyme
Precious piety covers his face while
I`m tearing at delicately woven lace
Honest gardener works till the late hours
I deliciously debauch his innocent flowers
Creators, sustainers frown with a look of amnesia
Forgetting their brother is a worshiper of Shiva
Categories:
worshiper, introspection,
Form:
Couplet
scratching his groin
a worshiper offers food:
the flattered deity
in flowery garbage, holy
water, incense and sweat
--R.K.Singh
Categories:
worshiper, irony,
Form:
Tanka