I can’t imagine
how painful it is to
be God.
Trying your hardest
to make a beautiful painting,
only to have the characters
you created complain and
mock the world around
them.
Why does God let bad things
happen to good people?
Pretty sure you’d walk
away from the canvas too
if it spat back and criticized
you.
But perhaps,
in his silence,
he waits,
hoping we’ll learn to
appreciate the
masterpiece.
And after he
suspects we’ve endured
enough punishment, he’ll return
to add an additional layer
of paint.
We call these added colors
miracles, and they renew our
dwindling faith.
Skulls and roses, skulls and crossbones, most of people who died alone.
Skulls in corpses, skulls in the living, ‘til they decompose, protection is what they’re giving.
Protect the mind, that tissue so soft, but easily shaken, easily sent aloft.
Protecting a soul, so sweet and tender, but nothing, not even nature, can live forever.
They give you medicine, sell you lies, say “this will make you better.”
When there wasn’t anything wrong with you, ever.
They give you Churches, where those skulls hide under dirt, and tell you to put their god first.
But for life, for creativity, for the freedom to be yourself, you thirst.
And you know your gods were there, holding your hand, first.
You know your gods created the skull that protects your beautiful mind,
the flesh that carries your soul so blessed by the divine.
Filled by gods and goddesses, your soul a creature unaffected by time.
A creature that’s had many skulls, lived countless lives.
And you will live again, another skull to protect your blessed mind.
In a nation of "point the finger"'
she pondered joining the crowd.
As in the famed Roman Coliseum
she imagined herself in full glory.
Giving a glorious "thumbs down!"
After all, she told her arrogant
herself,
as she put a crown of leaves on her
head:
"Those foolish Christians need to die!"
Yet a voice deep within her, made her
wonder.......why?
'twas in the gods of Rome she believed,
Who was this Christ, these fools died
for?
Centuries have come and gone, her
crown of leaves decayed, too!
Today not only are Christians killed,
but millions of others have died,in the
milieu.
The new god is love of self, above all else!
That name, Christ, best not be spoken.
He, who died for all humanity, still a
most despised personage!
We honor false gods, read literature
assuring us of polytheism.
Then cry and gnash our teeth, when
statues are toppled, morals are a joke.
And our only satisfaction comes from
booze, hot sex or a fast toke.
June 17, 2020
11am PST
Poem # 1,249
I've never seen them before,
but know they're in Elbert County, Georgia
put there by a mysterious man
by the name of R.C. Christian,
who put them on display
in dixieland, 1980 circa,
They have 10 new age rules,
which are occultic in my view,
stating that he is a tree hugger,
and wants billions of people to perish,
thinking in his view,
were nothing more than cannon fodder,
he thinks the planet is too overpopulated,
and that nature must be "balanced,"
his religion being pantheism or polytheism,
of which one I'm not quite sure which,
All's I know is that this mystery man
worships the sun, moon and the stars,
mother nature in general,
rather than our Heavenly Father
which is new age bizarre,
and that when Charlie Daniels
wrote his hit country pop song,
he must have known about all this,
when he came out with his
"the devil came down to Georgia" hit.
Addendum: They are actually called the "Georgia Guidestones" with 10
New Age commandments written on them.
A quiet prelude
to a mystical piece:
It is apparent
that my spiritual side
must be released.
Perhaps it is
to my squeakin' wheel
the grease.
Upon my brain
I signed the lease.
It just ran out.
Why pout?
Why pick only one?
Museth I.
There are many in the sky.
Allah, Yahweh, Zoroaster
and Ja'Quan
For communion I shall
eat fried wontons.
Worship shall be led
by Daniel Johnston,
and the sermons
delivered by the
filthiest derelict
in Atlantic City.
Life sure can be ****ty,
so I pray to my gods
and hope for their pity.
Buddha came through for me.
But he wanted to borrow $3.50
for some baked ziti.
The menstruation,
Till its cessation
Makes women to live outside
Their homes for four days
Come home on fifth day
Husbands helping and inside.
==================
Based on an ancient Indian custom as the women were not allowed to touch anything
in the house for four days of their menstruation cycle every month. They were considered
untouchable religiously.
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