Long Blasphemous Poems
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1/19/16
That is it
After this
No matter if
The road ahead is hazardous
Beside many establishments
Waters with or without halibuts
And areas where the ground and air has traces of contaminants
Bought her a lot of amethyst
And garnets that were called mandarins
So that whenever she wanted too, she could dress up and feel glamorous
In the liquor cabinet
Was bottles, some of which were extravagant
And they typically had either a cork or twist cap on it
Others showing their true colors
Fussing over nothing
Then being animus
Because they are desperate and ravenous
I told you you're soft and gelatinous
Stop trying to talk blasphemous
Or you'll get burned like a lot of cannabis
Bought some amulets
And found a box of talismans
What it said and meant, caused me to conduct my own analysis
I'm that guy who literally could never harm a fly.
I respect life too much and it saddens me to see anything die.
I once had a guest at my home when a little cockroach began to roam
foraging atop of my table.
My guest raised his hand to give that cockroach a slam,
but I grabbed his wrist rendering him unable.
I scooped up the little guy safely into my closed palm.
I then tossed it out my window so its life could go on.
It saddens me to consume even the simplest of plant life
because life is so precious. It's every living things unalienable right.
Yes, I respect all life, plants, animals, even creatures most consider vermin.
The fact that we must survive by consuming the living, is in my sincere blasphemous opinion
truly the greatest mistake of the Creator. It is most definetly God's greatest sin.
A Letter To My Lord: Part 1
Lord God: The walk on the earth with man becomes more corrupt with mortal sin. My walk beside the man on the earth that thou hast established becomes troublesome upon my spirit and I grow weak.
~
My plight to thee oh Lord of Lords; I pray my Father God above, forgive them in their heart for their mortal sins. Their journey here grows strong in the evil that walks among them. Man has taken upon seat and counsel, with the fallen one Lucifer. Forgive them, Father, for they do not know what they have done.
~
I sit here and make my peace to thee, Almighty God: If there be any sin that I must pay for, I'm ready my Lord. I pray my Lord Christ, that I've repented my sins and repent for all those that I've missed, here now in my letter for eyes.
~
Never have I not believed, or acknowledge: Thy name of the Lord Christ Jesus, or thy name of our high creator, God Almighty our Father, their Holiest of Spirit, is that name, the Holy Spirit, Trinity. I give back to thee my flesh and pray my spirit ascends back up to thee upon my death.
~
A Letter To My Lord: Part 2
My Lord God, I implore again to thee; forgive the blindness of my brethren. They make foolish judgments with their lack of wisdom which has been clouded. They do not understand, for the fallen one Lucifer, has clouded their thought with lusts of the world which you've given to them.
~
I, like you Lord Jesus of the Heavens; would give my very flesh for them, if I knew it would further your will. But that would be blasphemous upon thy name, Holiest of Spirit, and that is the one sin, Spiritual sin, that I cannot be saved eternally, but burn for eternity.
~
For the burn upon my soul for your love, for my salvation would be to much a cost for me, of the salvation that you've bought already by your Sons blood, and I beg weeping forgiveness for I am weak. I love You Lord Christ with all my might and all my soul.
~
And I am but a servant for thee.
Sealed for thee, Our Father God in Christ Jesus, the Holy Spirit all being Trinity; Our Savior.
The demon spawns temptation in the minds of mortal men
Exposed is their dark desires, lifted from the pits of hell
Evil breeds in the fiery depths of Satan’s beastly lair
Seeds planted to grow in shadowed corners of a heart
Abysmal minds of the frail are openly inclined to accept
blasphemous words angrily spit from irreverent lips
His rancid breath lights a wick that bursts into flame;
a dastardly exploit, a wicked game orchestrated by Bael,
infernal king with power to devour the weak, the frail
The fallen one leaches on mankind’s thirst for lust
Inside a mind he creeps, contorting visions in dreams
A soulless corpse lies where a man reasonably slumbered
encumbered by vile creatures at the Devil's command
Taken by Satan's hand, a life fuels death’s appetite
His Craft forged in the hotbeds of his dwelling place
A two-faced fiend, slayer of men, father of the lie
Skillfully he plies his trade with false promises he's made
His dirty deeds spring from need and jealous greed
No sleep comes to the one trapped in eternal torment
Screams are cries of fear the devil craves to hear
He accepts no alibis; no second chance does he give
There's no escape from the clutch of his sharpened claws
He'll hold you eternally, without resurrection from the grave
Darkness falls from his shadow, across every land
Scoring souls of modern man from depths of their despair.
He seeks the lost and wicked who'll do his sinful bidding.
Fair warning: be mindful when weary and in need of rest
for the Dark One is a bird catcher, waiting to pounce
and capture those he knows he can lead astray
*Edited by Lin*
Precious rose take this life from me
It’s getting lovely and I can’t use it anymore
White roses and I’d smile if happiness got any closer
I’ve bared my arms and I don’t know what for
Memories dangle from gazing posters
And I don’t know how much longer
I can pleasure this holster
I’m grasping for Satan’s place
I got my head down, walking toward Satan’s face
Tiptoeing just above the sun
Fingertips just below these stars singing and praises
I left my life outside that bar
Struck me down
In return for my every blasphemous sound
I miss you my friend and I can’t take it
My abuse grant’s me peace
Take this needle and sooth my misery at least
I’m grasping for Satan’s place
It seems we have been torn
A great distance apart
Yet in the eve of a fair day
You can not resist my art
I envy your every blasphemous sound
Yet a single draft consist of our hearts
On my behalf, my part
I’ll leave no room to anticipate
Like a forgotten mark
With realms of time, I am forced to participate
My age limit gathering dust
Constant decisions, rathering I must
Every attempt to better this hell, wavering a plus
A long with these costly treasures of mine
What pleasures do you exactly have in mind?
A balance of worthiness, measures our time
Seems that with senseless issues, I’ve been stretching my years
Grasping the obvious, the unseen
Fetching what’s in between the clear
I bare no room for fault
In your palms my thoughts were so softly caught
I may seem tired
For I am weathered by scenes of dreams a little higher than fire
Will you walk with me?
Will you sit and shoot the dust
And talk about the myths we’ll grow to be
Living for the gifts we are determined to see
It’s the above wrong that shelters your love song
when staring at e. e. cummings’ little ‘i’
—not reading,
it reminds me of st. francis’ sublime yet humble lowly jesus:
“he hides himself under the little form of bread”
if cummings’ little ‘i’ meant
the ‘i’ overpowered by something like gigantic rock,
overwhelmed by this evil prevailing world,
or intimidated by the malicious neighbors,
the ‘i’ hidden under a piece of bread is the lord
coming as an ‘i’ that is even smaller than the cummings’,
though he is the possessor of the power
and more than able to punish the world,
to save those worthless ‘i’s
for st. francis’ reverence on the consecrated piece of bread is
not of the dwarfish ‘i’ but of a pious one,
let my ‘i’ be not of the blasphemous one’s
but of the pious one’s as well,
the ‘i’ gazing at the forsaken lord
who died on the cross as a lonely ‘i’
Sometimes it is hard to know what to write or when to write when you have just about every
thought possible flowing through your head. I wonder, "Should I please the public with
how "poetic" I am or should I please You? I know what the answer is but at times I'm
worried about being liked or whether people get me. Is my belief in Your Son too far
above their heads or will they get it? Should I even worry about public opinion? Of
course I know as a follower of Christ, sharing my testimony and telling them about the
Lord is what I'm supposed to do. On the other hand, have I become to preachy and
dull? Am I shoving my beliefs down their throats? Then I realize, didn't Jesus make
himself of no reputation? Everybody thought that He was weird, blasphemous and not
qualified to tell them anything when it came to how they were living. I'm only here to do
what He wants me to do, nothing more, nothing less. If I do my part, the right people will
hear it, love it and appreciate it. All I should do, is write the word and leave all my
"rambling worries" to Him.
In the deserts of Arabia, Medina had many Hebrews
And Khaybar Oasis was full of farms run by Jews.
To this day Muslims shout Khaybar, defeating Jews hits a chord
Because Mohammed took both places by the power of the sword
After his death Muslim armies took more
Palestine, Syria, Turkey, and that just opened the door
Then they took parts of Persia and Central Asia, these fearsome men
It's hard to believe Egypt and North Africa were Christian back then
Muslims on a roll took Morocco, Algeria and Spain
They did this for the sake of Allah, not for monetary gain
They conquered much of the subcontinent, was it genocide?
Hindus, Sikhs, and Buddhists claim that millions died.
Today, Jihadists wage war from Nigeria to Mozambique
Islam is on the rise, other religions seem quite weak
You don't hear your local church crying for African dead
Their priorities are more parochial, even progressive instead.
Islam also spreads in peaceful ways, I don't want to deceive
Traders have spread the message of the prophet whom they believe
But what strikes me is that Muslims whose ancestors may have been Christians or Jews
When polled today, express missionary views.
It interesting too to see Islam collide with Chinese rule
The Uighurs are being digested; the process very cruel
Nonetheless, Iran and Pakistan all want China's aid
At least for now they're willing to make that moral trade.
History is often made by the tip of the spear
A minority of extremists can maintain and spread the fear
The Koran does say there is no compulsion in belief
But in practice, that Arabian gazelle has teeth.
Even here in the West, if you draw a blasphemous cartoon
Never mind paper freedoms, your end is likely soon.
FAITH, HOPE AND CHARITY
Who cometh these shores
On dusk's dark tide
Tis Hope I know
With Faith she rides
Along Charity's blame
The unfortunate poor
A coin with her name
And a promise of more
On whip bitten flesh
Bridal and bit
Their equine mounts
Silent and swift
Muzzles sheen wet
Steam pistons pour
Muscles bleed sweat
These engines of war
My candles are lit
Prayers offered
Take flight
My back to the door
My door to the night
The doubt
Which I spilled
Now it has dried
Words how I wish
I never did write
Sympathy scorned
Love's ember bright
My ink
So I poured
On God's given rite
A blasphemous sin
Committed at whim
I painted their names
Their nearest of kin
Innocent all
All had their price
A bounty of gold
And silver paid twice