Thread: My Poems
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Old 05-11-2010, 06:33 PM
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THE KINGDOM OF HEAVEN SUFFERS VIOLENCE

The Kingdom of Heaven Suffers Violence,
And the Violent seize it by Force.
Since the days of John the Baptist,
Eternal Bias has been their Course.

Their father was a Pharisee;
Their mother was a Whore.
These are the Elitist Bastard Offspring
Of Two Leeches called More and More.

Salome and Herodias were their Kin:
The Two Sorceresses in bewitching
Lust and Treason against all Reason;
Herod's Babylonian Grail concocting.

They lived on Saints and the Blood of the Baptist's Head,
While robbing Peter to pay Paul, and then thieve the Master's Bread.

The Brood of Vipers slithering Methodius Sublime,
With Lord's Day Hat and Sunday suit to steal the Holy Grail of Wine.

Hypocrites and actors that make Broadway appear Sanctified.
In feigned small Strait Gate pigeon-holes, where the Serpents live and hide.

The Care of the Seclorum is their most Holy Anthem,
In which they decry the Nation's degradation.
And then serve Lucifer's Pride,
The Greedy Lord of the Flies,
The Lust of the Whore of Babylon,
And the moth-eaten rotten currency of their only God Mammon.

Red as the Pomegranate are they at reading of the Holy Bishop,
and the Shulamite lamb's ecstatic flight of courtship.
They would never think Solomon's Eros was discipleship,
But then with Laptop and Right Hand, at Babylonís altar they Worship.

Lip-service to the King of Kings,
But blood, sweat, and tears for new car and earrings.

From Orient to Occident they climb Jacob's Ladder to join Abraham's Chorus,
While the Sons of the Kingdom, all fattened in mirth, are cast into Outer Darkness.

The Ten Virgins awaken at the Herald of the Midnight Rider and yawn,
And while their Oil runs dry he cries the Amen, You must make a Journey Beyond!

And when the Captivity of Babylon was turned again, we all became like Dreamers,
But the Dream was not a Pearl of Great Price in Reality of Usurping Schemers.

By the Waters of Babylon, there we sat down,
Aye! the Day the Music died, we wept.
When Miss American Pie slew Lady Libera and Zion
Forever hanging up our Lyres on the Willows to be kept.

Now say you're sorry, and take the plunge, says the Baptist,
and everything is well.
Then feast at the picnic of Zechariahís Hand basket,
On a one way trip to Hell.

The Reaper's all holidayed in whoring,
While David bore the Precious Seed in mourning.
The Reaper's all retired, never to roll again the sleeves,
While David came back rejoicing, and bringing in the Sheaves.

The Harvest Lord let out the Land to all of His Keepers,
But pray the Lord of Harvest that He may Harvest a bit and few more Reapers.

The Master said, or
unless I need read more,
Take neither Gold, nor
The Coins of Silver,
Nor of Copper in your
Bags of Lucre.

No Wallet for the Road,
Nor bring Tunics even Two.
Bring no extra Shoes,
Or any Food with you.
The Journeyman is Worthy to
The due Reward for his Load.

Yet apparently the Master forgot to mention
That the Church's Preacher need have wife, nonetheless a pension.

She must have one, John, who can support her needs.
She must have one, John, who knows her greed.
She must have one, John, of the right birth and status.
She must have one, John, Churched, but irreligious.

He must have one, John, virginally, yet whorish.
He must have one, John, in spirit gaunt, but carnally well nourished.
He must have one, John, responsible at public playing
He must have one, John, who covers lies at every saying.

In the community, they would fall down to be upstanding.
Like those of Ancient Noah's day, who were flooded after marrying.

The Lord spoke true of the Violence of the Kingdom,
Even to the first Disciples when them to Israel He was sending.

Give up, they will,
A Brother a Brother yet,
To the very Death,
And Father a Child,
And raise up Insurrection,
Children against Parents,
Even causing
The Death Sentence.

And you will they be
Abhorring, All of them
because of My Name,
but for the one
Who endues unto the Ending,
Shall Himself be Saving.

Yet to this Violence, the Master gives a Word,
He comes not to charm that Theft, in case you have not heard.

Dare not even think that here I came to bring
That which they call 'Peace on Earth'!
I came not to bring that 'Peace',
Rather bring that 'Sword'!

For to sever a man I came
in accord with his father;
Also a daughter
in accord with her mother;
And the wife
in accord with her madam.

And those who the man do loathe,
Are those of his own household.

One who is his father's friend, or
Is his mother's more than me,
Of me he is not worthy!

And who is his son's friend, or
Is his daughter's friend more than me,
Of me he is not worthy!

He who will not his Cross taking carry
And follow along my Way after
Of me he is not worthy!

And who finds the soul of his own,
He shall surely lose it.
And whoever loses the soul of his own
Before my own Soul, he shall surely find it.

The one who shall receive you,
The same receives me.
And who shall receive me
He receives even who apostalitized me.

He who shall receive a Prophet in
The Name of the Prophet
The Prophet's Reward
Shall he gain.

And whoever receives
A Just man in
The Name of the Just man
The Just man's Reward
Shall he gain.

And who so
Gives to just even
A little one
Of these a Cup of cold
Water alone
In the same Disciple's Name,
Amen, I say to you,
He surely shall not lose
His Reward to gain.

Seek first the Kingdom, and these things to you shall be added!
But seek first the Seclorum, and pilfer the Kingdom included?

A practical atheist dry martini, with a Praise & Worship chaser.
But they get their presents at Christmas time, and their Chocolate eggs on Easter.

Houses of their gods of wood and stone,
which perforce they were made to serve.
Until the Monopoly Money grows wings and flies off,
As the Southbound Bird they swerve.

Willy-nilly is their Statue of Liberty,
A rusting Iron Facade and shell of Integrity.

Touch not, taste not! say they,
for this is our Pinnacle of the Holy Summit!
While the Master tosses them the Cornhusk,
from the Ears plucked upon the Sabbat.

Line after line, line after line.
Here a little, there a little was the Word to them.
That stone upon stone, stone upon stone,
At the Stone the Masons rejected, they may stumble and be taken.

From the Days of John, the Kingdom suffers Violence, and the Violent seize it by force.
But at the Master's Word 'Hypaty!', the Gergesha Swine drowned in the Abyss by Choice.
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