Long Overindulgence Poems
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When I lay down on my deathbed,
Remember me…remember me forevermore
When I give in to silent slumber,
Don’t grieve for me…
I’m in God’s hand –
A pleasant placement that I adore
When I wake up from this horrifying nightmare,
Dream not…dream not of war or violence
When I try to reach for my goals in life,
Be not afraid of me…I’ll be a success
Be not afraid of thee…He wants you to have progress
Shower me down with empathy and elegance
You sprout splendidly like a flower in the brink of Spring
Tower over me…protect me from
Overindulgence
You don’t doubt –
You are one-of-a-kind and You are a GRAND KING!
When I grow weary and old,
Don’t desert me like a worthless garden full of weeds
Don’t desert me…bury me in the damp soil like seeds
If you do decide to leave me behind,
That would be just rude
When I have high hopes and if I’ll ever be as bold as The Lion,
Don’t take away my strength, my gift, or my gratitude
When I fall asleep on eagle and dove wings,
Don’t worry!
Don’t worry about me!
My heart will take divine flight
When I approach heaven and its radiance
Reigns upon my undying soul,
It brings me love from somewhere quite a delight –
Don’t reject the precious light
The precious light…
You’re a grand king!
You blossom with might and victory
I crown you with
Loyalty, Awesomeness, and Golden Pride
I’m a weapon of mass destruction
the kind that doesn't appeal to societies seductions
I am all about kingdom construction
The word of God is my daily instructions
I get an unction, how to function
Steering clear of those with no compunction
Everyone is focused on a getting a date
Instead of walking towards eternal gates
Sextually transmitted demons
don't come from a mans seamen
All those soul ties
Cut you down to size
Robbing you of the gifts inside
As you drift away, just like the tide
Many are Spiritually amputated
Claiming god is overrated
Many are Becoming Politically stimulated
While division causes opinions to be hated
Drinking from wells of perversion
All this chaos is a diversion
Intoxicated by greed
Overindulgence is what they feed.
In God we trust
Who's your god?
And what do you trust?
Dancing in the dark
Feasting on your lust
worshiping the third eye
Leading your soul to die
How can you walk when you're bound
He made a way for you to be found
How can you be free
When you can't see
How can you dance
When you've never given God a chance.
Rants and raves
Many are hiding in their caves
Minds are turning into tormented slaves
Poisons on our streets
Destruction has a beat
Poisons on our streets
destruction has a beat!
Get your fetty it's quite cheap,
Just a drop will knock you right off your feet.
Superman, A saving grace
With a wink, and nod and a smile on his face
They claim he will bring peace
If you surrender to the beast
They claim there will be love
If you reject the one above
The storm is coming
The storm is here!
Injecting you with all their fear
They want you to pay no mind
To all these warning signs
They want you to pay no mind
So you'll be left behind!
By: Sabina Nicole
Saint Patrick died on March 17th.
So we celebrate the day with green and drink.
Patrick, was kidnapped to Ireland as a slave,
a condition he never fully forgot or forgave.
Patty (as he was known by his friends)
was a sober, relentless, devout Christian.
As a missionary, he gallivanted methodically, converting heathens
and if he failed to convert you, you weren’t left breathin’.
He could burn you at the steak for ignoring ‘reason’.
To show Christ’s power, he ‘banished’ the snakes,
It’s amazing, the difference a miracle can make.
The year 461 pre-dated laptops and even the Internet,
so, I think it’s time we finally forgive and even forget
the sad, sordid history of Catholic conversion “therapy”
because today we need a reason to drink until we’re green.
.
.
Webster: Gallivant: “travel for pleasure.”
My roommates and I went to Doublin, Ireland last summer.
In casual conversation we asked how they celebrated Saint Patrick's day and their celebrations are like ours, more or less - a secular overindulgence. But on a deeper level, this holiday, they say, is dedicated to the patron saint of heathen genocide.
Dark shadows stalk the imaginary paths of my brain
Mirroring conscience reflects the torpor of my anguished soul
Black clouds hover in every dark corner of my jaded psche
Raining doubt and fear on the canvas of my jaundiced mind
Brackish tears of penance but soil the pores of my fever-soaked face
Flowing into a convoluted whirlpool of shame that constantly recycles my depraved actions
Emptying into the recesses of my vacuous inner being
Stagnating pools of opprobrium surround my bleached heart
Nauseous fumes of pride from my murky depths smother all good intentions
Stranding my drowning soul in the quicksand of intemperance and overindulgence
Scriptures speak to us in riddles
Relying upon esoteric symbols
They may be well intentioned
But it’s time this truth is mentioned
That addressing mind, invoking fear
Guilt of imagined sin begins to sear
Plunging our mind in deep confusion
Spontaneity lost, fearing retribution
Something’s rotten in the religious setup
For unless soma nectar flows into our cup
We feel incomplete and shortchanged
Separated from source, from love estranged
Ceasing thinking, abandoning all knowing
In stillness feeling, gentle breeze flowing
We embrace and release each life impulse
Consciousness expands, everywhere at once
Divine entwined, one with the universe
Having vaporised, there’s nothing to rehearse
Bliss throbs within, ignites our central vein
In fullness of rapture, we are free from stain
Undoubtedly senses five and mind have their use
Yet is not overindulgence in illusion akin to abuse
The inner polarities of our sentience are dormant
Yet it’s from within that sparks, the bliss current
It matters not ancient words etched on stones
If it’s real, we must feel it deep within our bones
31-March-2022