Prayer

A caretaker…she had asked me about…how I feel about…prayer.

The room enclosed, sterile, without flair.

I bounce the question around my mind like kick balls fluctuating against a solid wall.

Where was the ‘good doctor’ going?

She knew my truth…yet, there had been a wanting of understanding.

Needles in a cushioned tomato…picking, pricking, anxiety clouded my honesty.

All I had known was the ‘Father!’

Why corner me with him?

My resolve against religion was worn thin.

All revelations and testaments were gaunt.

I did not pale in response.

‘I cannot speak for you…What you have been through…I only understand that the King…did not give me my due.’

In the silence,

only a simple response…

‘I will pray…for you.’

 

Ninth Circle, Hell

SATAN REFUSES TO ACCEPT ANY MORE CATHOLIC PRIESTS IN HELL

NINTH CIRCLE, HELL—Stressing that the situation in the underworld was quickly spiraling out of control, Satan, the Great Tempter and Father of Lies, announced Wednesday that he would not allow any more Catholic priests to enter hell. “This place is completely overrun with those monsters, and frankly, they kind of creep me out,” said the Prince of Darkness, adding that every time he looked up, he saw another recently deceased member of the Roman Catholic clergy being cast down into the fires of hell, where each is expected to be tortured until the end of time by Satan and his minions. “We’re used to having every manner of unrepentant sinner down here, but those guys are beyond messed up. I swear, if I see one more of those sick bastards, I’m going to throw myself into the eternal flames.” In response, God has reportedly instituted a secret policy whereby the priests would no longer face damnation but would instead attend mandatory counseling sessions and then be quietly transferred into heaven.

http://www.theonion.com/satan-refuses-to-accept-any-more-catholic-priests-in-hell

 

 

A Platform of Peace

Amazing Peace: A Christmas Poem

by

Maya Angelou

Thunder rumbles in the mountain passes
And lightning rattles the eaves of our houses.
Flood waters await us in our avenues.

Snow falls upon snow, falls upon snow to avalanche
Over unprotected villages.
The sky slips low and grey and threatening.

We question ourselves.
What have we done to so affront nature?
We worry God.
Are you there? Are you there really?
Does the covenant you made with us still hold?

Into this climate of fear and apprehension, Christmas enters,
Streaming lights of joy, ringing bells of hope
And singing carols of forgiveness high up in the bright air.
The world is encouraged to come away from rancor,
Come the way of friendship.

It is the Glad Season.
Thunder ebbs to silence and lightning sleeps quietly in the corner.
Flood waters recede into memory.
Snow becomes a yielding cushion to aid us
As we make our way to higher ground.

Hope is born again in the faces of children
It rides on the shoulders of our aged as they walk into their sunsets.
Hope spreads around the earth. Brightening all things,
Even hate which crouches breeding in dark corridors.

In our joy, we think we hear a whisper.
At first it is too soft. Then only half heard.
We listen carefully as it gathers strength.
We hear a sweetness.
The word is Peace.
It is loud now. It is louder.
Louder than the explosion of bombs.

We tremble at the sound. We are thrilled by its presence.
It is what we have hungered for.
Not just the absence of war. But, true Peace.
A harmony of spirit, a comfort of courtesies.
Security for our beloveds and their beloveds.

We clap hands and welcome the Peace of Christmas.
We beckon this good season to wait a while with us.
We, Baptist and Buddhist, Methodist and Muslim, say come.
Peace.
Come and fill us and our world with your majesty.
We, the Jew and the Jainist, the Catholic and the Confucian,
Implore you, to stay a while with us.
So we may learn by your shimmering light
How to look beyond complexion and see community.

It is Christmas time, a halting of hate time.

On this platform of peace, we can create a language
To translate ourselves to ourselves and to each other.

At this Holy Instant, we celebrate the Birth of Jesus Christ
Into the great religions of the world.
We jubilate the precious advent of trust.
We shout with glorious tongues at the coming of hope.
All the earth’s tribes loosen their voices
To celebrate the promise of Peace.

We, Angels and Mortal’s, Believers and Non-Believers,
Look heavenward and speak the word aloud.
Peace. We look at our world and speak the word aloud.
Peace. We look at each other, then into ourselves
And we say without shyness or apology or hesitation.

Peace, My Brother.
Peace, My Sister.
Peace, My Soul.”

Nature by Bianca Stone

Maybe humans are the failed A.I. of Nature.

Maybe Nature made something it thought would tend the garden.

Maybe Nature made something sexy, to watch clean the pools with long butterfly nets

and a sunburn-the retainers of Nature.

Now, mirror of mercury and Hell, that hot-red bomb in your mouth, that sweet battleground on your tongue-

it is the catastrophe of your mission.

The wealthy, with their outstanding educations and custom shoes, and empty apartments floating above like Glinda; the ballad of media, the intellectuals, almost shepherding evolution, falling asleep in their haunted paintings and unattainable poetry-all the dimensions of each person’s being, punk, restless in a loop.

Sometimes I want to be taken into nothingness.

I want to be burned with the gypsy moths and blindweed.

Run to exhaustion with the wildebeest.

I don’t want this phone, I want to kill God.

Maybe humans are the complex systems of a natural order that must build and destroy itself in perpetuity.

Blue chicory on the road saying, the end of summer in a sandstorm of our passing-they gyrate and smile-what of our little duties to the architect?

Our deep-red blood our lush tech-

Archangels limping into paradise.

Hate Speak

http://www.newsweek.com/donald-trump-speak-anti-lgbt-hate-groups-annual-event-first-president

I saw the kiss by Michael Sam..
It made me mad–he kissed a man!

That’s something I don’t want to see
It’s wrong, unnatural, and it’s not just me.

Many now say, “Homosexuality is OK.”
But God says there’s a better way.

He made men for women, and women for men.
So why are “gays” so prideful then?

Please, no public same-sex kisses, Michael Sam.
We don’t want to see this man-on-man! […]

I do not mean to pick a fight
When I say most Blacks don’t think homosexuality’s a “civil right.”

Far from a “right,” Michael. In fact, it’s wrong.
Must I put this in a song?

Michael shot back: “Not wrong at all, it’s who I am!
“I’m gay. My name is Michael Sam.”

“God made me black and blessed me with gayness.”
Blessed you?! Then why are so many diseases linked to “sex” in the anus?

No, God made you black–not ‘gay,’” said I.
“You’ve chosen to believe a lie!”

You can’t change your skin color, that’s a fact.
But homosexuality? That’s only an act.

peter labarbera