No God for Expiation
By Sy Roth
Held in ungodly thrall
Their bodies wracked blasphmely dry
Loosley held together by the striped cloth.
Typhus-infested, David-starred beasts
Caricatures of humanity
Carved into beasts of burden
Only worthy of torture, or
Zyklon deaths---
Their punishment for existence
Work, arbeit, toil, till death,
Clock-seconds beating to an end,
When they strip their striped clothing from them.
Anxious to live,
The snakes slough the skin
And hide among them
Become lice-infected beings hungry for escape.
Concealed in the garb of the louse
They are revealed to the liberators.
The cockroaches exposed the beasts
Tore at them
Before they could find
Any God to expiate them.
The nurse said, “ This will soothe your pain. “
My left hand was connected with Iv.
And, I was observing how
The blood flows through the narrow pipes
A playtime for my very own blood!
The nurses were talking among themselves
Why the veins are not prominent enough,
How I should help them to make it visible
Visible enough for another poke.
I was lying there,
In between sleep and consciousness
I was lying there,
Amidst hopelessness and timelessness.
And I was looking at the
television in the corner of the room
Where life advertises 24 hours
Its diversified colored illusions...on and on.
And suddenly I felt calm, I felt peace
I felt I can lie here and at least supplicate to God
For His mercy, to expiate my sins once and for all.
I was not able to move any of my hands,
One was stuck with Iv, the other one with an oximeter.
Alone there, I felt for a moment that God forgave me, perhaps.
And the nurse came back. “ We are ready to send you home!”
It's mystery, just fantasy,
That reader's "take" on any rhyme
Should supersede the poet's time,
The vision that he bleeds to pen,
Not set aside by mortal men,
That's hubris (without courtesy)!
A muse possesses phantom's depth!
Most haikus failures, beggar art,
Joke reader's thoughts play any part;
The fire that blazes, author's own,
His crime is that he can't atone
Or know a poem's aftermath.
And would you claim to know the truth
Of Bible verse without context,
Each sinner kneels to false pretext!
Who listens to their Master's voice?
In ignorance, there is no choice,
None expiate their human ruth.
If God exists, His truth is real!
Who flirts with ambiguity,
Or builds on sand, a fool you see!
Give poems birth and share your heart,
Life's ripples shouldn't make us tart,
Let poetry be all we feel!
Brian Johnston
March 2, 2018
My heart weakened by its innumerable years
continues to flutter its plangent beats. An
ancient maple tree, its leafless naked branches calls
for me to rest beside its protective scaly bosom,
for it sees a messenger perched upon my shoulder.
I feel its pulsing inner core gently whispering of things forgotten. My tortured troubled intellect fails to comprehend the language of its quintessence.
My shriveled breast listens and its fundamental
makeup comprehends its declaim.
The benevolent and hospitable giant with invisible
web feet bids me to become part of its composition.
My inner self understands its venerable message for
it whimpers like a malnourished neglected infant
waiting impatiently to suckle its mother.
Oh! If only I could creep into its nucleus and curl up
in a fetal position to expiate my sins while transmuting
my nonspiritual body into it’s vibrant sap and feed its
vascular cambium system so that my essence can once again Return to its natural state.
A church is beckoning to come within
There's going to be a service to expiate sin
The invisible guest who's to do this task
Is one never seen so by what means you ask
Well it goes like this -- it's called faith, it's said
But whatever it is, it's all in their head
Hands are folded, they beseech and implore
Give us our bread and just a couple things more
But what draws them together isn't a prayerful hand
It's the invisible being called God, an invention of Man
WELL………
Why would someone say God is one of Man's inventions?
Well if God were real he'd sabotage man's bad intentions
Humans eternally kill each other in things like war
They murder God's animals, there aren't many left
any more
The earth is robbed of all its valuables and jewels
By the greed of humans who are a pack of fools
They fight each other over their God's name
As if the correct one would bring them fame
So just how many gods are there anyway?
With even just one, there would be hell to pay
Purge
Unburden
Refine
Improve
Free
Immaculate
Expiate
Deliver
1 John 1:9
9 If we confess our sins, he is faithful and just and will forgive us our sins and purify us from all unrighteousness.
1 John 1:7New
But if we walk in the light, as he is in the light, we have fellowship with one another, and the blood of Jesus, his Son, purifies us from all sin.
Malachi 3:3
"He will sit as a smelter and purifier of silver, and He will purify the sons of Levi and refine them like gold and silver, so that they may present to the LORD offerings in righteousness.
Hebrews 1;3
The Son is the radiance of God’s glory and the exact representation of his being, sustaining all things by his powerful word. After he had provided purification for sins, he sat down at the right hand of the Majesty in heaven. Amen
Sitting under an arbor,
Broad daylight and pondering
mind,
Cerebral thinking as of a
maestro,
But a question still unanswered,
What makes me stick onto you?
Pardon me, did you just ask me
that ??
You assuage my desires,
Protect me from annihilation,
With your atruistic attitude,
Though your work acts a
desiccant,
That dampens the ebullience,
Still your ascent is visible above
horizon,
That's what makes me stick by!
As a priestess who pays daily
morning devotion to the deity,
And as the sunshines and the
rain falls,
Quintessence of tryst, wait is
ephemereal,
Embrocating the aches, healing
of severance,
Design needed to expiate,
And rendezvous we go to the
content,
Pardon me, would you still ask
me that ??
Written on 11/12/13
For contest- pardon me , did
you just.........
If I only had one day to live on earth's fragile dimension
I would pass by all fears that kept me standing like rock,
Dismissing stodgy impulses to win in a concrete contention
For my instincts to release, as new Gates arise and unlock.
Oh!The unfair world would carry on it's endless course
And Time's vanity would sell promises still to human mind,
Yet, I would weep not for my Fate's erring horse,
Even if my ticket was expired, a Golden path would be defined.
Maybe I would send letters of love to lovers I craved all those years,
Or I would spend last moments with faces familiar and close,
Or even maybe I would find the one to die with me and plan our steers,
The beauty of this land I walked to leave and expiate near windy blows.
My soul ready for return would seek redemption upon the starry sky,
Reaching my Home I will wave to earth's wisdom, hearing it's long ''bye-bye''.
This sleeping dog, from winter's rate
is so sublime, survivor's state
not acquisitions in relate
nor oft imposing, oft sedate!
So look upon my line's rebate
not spoken with a narrow gate
but obvious, exacting date
whilst looking only seals my fate!
By looking at my sequenced plate
the lines upon my once youth's face
restrict the flowing messaged pace
to one of owing, classed innate!
Ah So, the figured artist's mate
is oft within, that stance constraint
is deeper, willed to expiate
the soul's whole self ~ not under-rate!
The artist's tithe to this constraint
is looking not within as late
too often stifled, beauties saint
while worldly claim, but looks for taint!
This truth, soft spoken, ageless told
lies deep within, the line's implode
the artist's greatness, thus enfolds
the measure's "being" not erode!
That stamina, the stanza's mold
within, within . . . . . yet now is told!
Can you hear Him, He’s whispering
Come back to me, turn from your sin
There’s no iniquity that’s so great
That Jesus’ blood can’t expiate
I’ll forgive you then my child you’ll be
The price was paid at Calvary
The cost was great; my only Son
Return to me beloved one
For you are worth the price I paid
Upon my Son your sins were laid
For you my love my heart does yearn
Please come back, please return
If you only knew how I long for you
What I wish to give and want to do
To give you a new heart of flesh
And breathe my spirit into you afresh
What I did with Adam I’ll do with you
We’ll walk together in the morning dew
I’ll anoint your eyes so that you can see
And ears to hear, please heed my plea
I only have good will towards you
I have the power to make you new
Harden not your heart if you hear my voice
I will not force, it’s your free choice
You’re the jewel that I long to cherish
It’s not my will that you should perish
So come to me and I’ll take your hand
And lead you into the Promised Land
As I was with Israel my chosen one
I’ll be with you til victory’s won.
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