Worshiped Poems | Examples

Civilizations Come and Go

Every civilization has an hour glass
Filled with both a future and a past
The top is filled with the sand of Love
Slowly leaking with the pouring into a cup
Over time the world has seen
The cup receiving love is the cup of iniquity

Gone are civilizations that worshiped idols
Inhumane practices taught by 
Lost souls and fallen angels
Gone are the nations that did not follow God
That feeling that something was wrong in their heart
The soul has eyes that the Spirit gives to see
Before it's too late it is time to flee

Going are the lost who tell the lies
All for a price thinking God is not alive
Blind are the eyes that refuse to see
The filling of the cup called Iniquity
Though their end has yet to be
The end is coming to that society 

Too late came the call to get on the boat
While they were yet preparing to have a vote
Too late will be that day when justice mattered
While media takes the stand to give them flatter
Lost will be the day that was long ago sound
The end of a civilization our for fathers found

Slanderella

She came down screaming, cloaked in flame,  
A bolt of spite, no soul to tame.  
From hilltop high she cast her spell—  
The art of slander, taught too well.  

They built her shrines in whispered breath,  
In gossip’s grip, they danced with death.  
Her tongue, a blade that cuts unseen,  
Yet worshiped like some vengeful queen.  

She taught them how to twist the truth,  
To poison joy, corrupt the youth.  
No proof required, no facts to weigh—  
Just sharpened words to flay and flay.  

I walk beneath her shadowed reign,  
Each rumor like a drop of rain.  
It floods my name, it stains my skin,  
A war I never asked to win.  

They speak as if their hearts are stone,  
No warmth, no grace, just undertone.  
Their minds are mirrors cracked with spite,  
Reflecting only what’s not right.  

No thought of kindness, no repair,  
Just venom laced in vacant stare.  
They feed on fear, they starve on hope,  
And swing their lies like braided rope.  

Yet still I rise, though torn and bruised,  
Refusing to be so misused.  
For truth, though quiet, holds its ground—  
And Slanderella will be drowned.

Self Destruction

Leaders are worshiped, 
Armies are much hailed,
Weapons are much praised,
And innocent creatures are,
Killed in the streets, in the
Homes, while they are working,
While they are sleeping,
The children's heart full of,
Terror, they are told, we are,
Worrier,  we win the war,
But who tell the preacher,
Wars cant not be won, and
No way, they can be win,
Both side loose, both side
Destroyed, citizen are killed,
Here and citizen are killed,
There, Winners are those,
Who don’t  care, for those,
Their whim must be roar,
Over the dead bodies of,
Innocents, the trees, the birds,
The air, the water, the animals,
The leaders never die in war,
They have power supernatural,
As a common man is taught, 
To remain faithful to system,
To praise the ways of system,
To speak up to limits of system,
To praise the armies, to bow to
Money hoarders. 
But all are the gestures inherited 
Desire of creatures to destroy
Themselves,
Humanity seems tired of living,
Perhaps plans for departing,
And submerge in nothingness,

What is destiny

We worshiped Gods,
The fields destroyed,
By the monkies,
All the crops are davastated,
By the pigs, peacocks,
And We worshiped Gods,
Wheat standing in the fields,
Thrasted by the hails and rain,
In few seconds, 
And We worshiped Gods,
Insects, rats nimbled the maze,
Graineries have run out of,
Children demand food,
And We worshiped Gods,

The Book of Souls

The nobility, the priesthood,
The common, the slaves
A life's journey fixed,
Elected for life or
Passed from father to son.

Omens, divinations,
Predictions, reading future
They were skilled mathematicians,
Historians, keepers of knowledge
Recorded details in codices.

Books of fig bark paper
Mayans wrote, kept count
Of Sun's path, tracked Venus
With surprising Accuracy,
Marked zenith twined with beliefs

Hard workers ate well,
Worshiped their many gods
In willing exuberance
Artisans, carvers,
Traded true, cities grew

Peaceful obsidian warriors
Extravagant kings and queens
Fell to their own intelligence
Wrath of gods unfurled red-carpet
For death and destruction

Nothing to eat, nothing to carve,
Nothing to record, nothing to trade,
Nothing to fight, none left to please god
Nothing to sacrifice, simply collapsed.
They weren't spared, would we be?

The Maker of Idols

HANDS
palms rough
nail beds stained
 in dark of night
workin' mans hands
they become soft, tender
such contrast, his hands on me
on my soft curves, on silky skin
molding into shapes pleasing to him
meant only for him, I'm adored, worshiped
the late hour of abandon, passion, love
my body so like moldable clay
He, the maker of his desire
these longings, secrets he hides 
in the light of day, dawn
when eyes again see
his touch is gone
I love him
for his
HANDS

THE ZIGGURAT

The Ziggurat


So.
I am completed now,
and what have you learned 
that you did not already know?

Closer to the gods, I suppose,
who seem somewhat indifferent
if you ask me.
You are the ones making all the noise.

I have no complaint.
You treat me well.
You lavished millions of man-hours 
to forge and lay my bricks.
You commissioned the finest work of artisans 
to inscribe my walls.

I am admired,
worshiped perhaps, by many
(not all, I notice - I will keep their secret).

I do stand tall and imposing,
and the view is quite nice.

The birds, in particular, seem to be appreciative,
catching soft thermals from my sloped sides.
They glide without effort at the pinnacle;
some even daring to land.

And that’s about it for me.
What did YOU have in mind?

They confiscated the paradox; they called it unlawful

They confiscated the paradox; they called it unlawful,
Carving the truth to the desired measure,
Shaming the threat and killing the unworthy.
But for years in the grayness created with blood,
Years of inhaling toxic facades and consuming revolts,
He brought jewels to her feet and worshiped
The same idea and image that everyone hated.
In a world of shadows, where words are cut,
And thoughts are shaped like clay,
Truth hides under veils of silence,
While dreams are hunted like prey in the night.
We try to see through the cracks of reality,
To find sparks of light in the dense darkness,
But the paradox, that divine gift, slips through our fingers,
In a world that prefers the silence of comfortable lies.
And yet, in our depths, we know that truth,
Though carved and mutilated, continues to breathe,
A small but unyielding flame that burns,
In the hearts of those who still dare to dream.

Boredom is the root of all evil

Wisdom was bored, so she left heaven’s serenity
Yaldabaoth was bored, so he formed the world we see 
Saklas was bored, so he moulded man like you and me 
Samael was bored, so he taught man silver and money
Man was bored, so he worshiped this blind deity 
Through this boredom, we forgot heaven’s serenity 

Through boredom, we crucified heaven’s lamb on the tree 
Through boredom, we beheaded the Prophet Mani 
Through boredom, we burned the Cathars despite every plea 
Through boredom, we seized and colonised land and sea
Through boredom, we filled all with blinding anxiety 
Until Adam will rest his head on the lamb’s tree 

I am tired, but wisdom’s touch moved me to write this for you to see 


Inspired by Soren Kierkegaard’s argument that boredom is the root of all evil, from his work “Either/Or” Part 1, Chapter 6.

Rock Art Carvings

giants and monsters 
     walking the Earth
            in rock art

                 dogs 
                  jaguars
                  turtle
                  frogs

and probably a butterfly

              snakes
              feared
              worshiped
              revered
            
carved geometry 
             an oracle
                   a long lost ancient culture

the fabled gold of El Dorado
                legendary 

discovering treasure
a thousand rock art carvings

artistic heritage
from antiquity

astral plain

astronomers often describe
the path of their heavenly ride
far off in the distant night sky
defining what's higher than high
luminous wavelength emitters
heavenly hosts all aglitter
lost in gravitational trance
each dancing unique cosmic dance

charted starlight guiding the way
for ships sailing from bay to bay
Polaris, bright northerly guide
let Vikings plunder far and wide
bored dreamers plotted vague outlines
of gods sending out godly signs
marching celestial civilians
filling up space in the trillions

worshiped by ancient Egyptians
forger of earthly existence
ubiquitous light in darkness
warmth amid bitter cold harshness
no need for divine directive
only eclipsed by perspective
center of systems of being
without stars life's not worth seeing

Sun

I am Sun; at the center of all, I’m your biggest star.
Night comes, and though I’m still around, my light you cannot see,
and whether you see me rise or fall depends on where you are.
I warn you: never look too long directly up at me.

When you see me sunny side up, I’ll be looking down
beaming at you, but I adore those lying on the ground,
bare skin showing. They worship me; their skin I may turn brown,
but if the sky is overcast, take care and know I’m still around.

Light and heat I gift you, but you’ll sweat the more I shine.
By many names I have gone by, for a King am I.
The ancients worshiped  me. Some would make for me a shrine.
A giant in five billion years, I’ll scorch your earth and die.

Streets Paved with Gold

   The Israelites once worshiped a calf made of gold
   
      ~ In America that idea never grew old

Leading from Love

  There is one G-d, and one G-d only
    He took the Israelites out of Egypt

  G-d brought the ten plagues on Egypt, not an angel  
    G-d brought the Israelites out of Egypt, not a seraph
   
  G-d split the Sea, not Moses 
    G-d, in His infinite glory, performed all these wonders Himself

  Yet the Israelites rebelled, worshiped a golden calf 
    G-d was angry, intended to write their epitaph

  But Moses defended his beloved people before the Lord
    Who did an about-face and lay down His sword  

  We all want a leader, like Moshe, who loves us
    Unlike leaders today, who throw us under the bus

Who is He

Who is he?

Revealed in the Book as

The Alpha and the Omega
The First and the Last
The Beginning and the End
Who is 
Who was
Who is to come
The one who gives living water
without cost to the thirsty
Who is proclaimed as the Light of the world
Light that overcomes 
the darkness of evil
Light that reveals the pathway to eternal life
Who is he?
To whom praise and glory are given
The One who is the Lamb that was slain
The One who is worshiped and given praise

“To him who sits on the throne and to
the Lamb be praise and honor and glory
and power forever and ever!”
Who is he?
‘Tis Jesus, the Christ

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