Tuesday, September 12, 2017

Voluntary Victims

We are victims of the worst propaganda.
Sadly we all sign up for an 80 year tour.
We stamp our feet and demand that things
Go our way, bend themselves to our will.

Religion's to blame the secularists say,
For all the ills in all the world.
Religion is the cause of all wars, not the kings
All pain and all suffering's from God.

And like Eve in the garden we accept the lie
And all that comes after it.
The original lie was "Thou shalt not surely die."
The second was "You will be like gods.

And we bought it as though it were true
Because some snake said it was so.
Ever since we have believed ourselves immortal
Despite evidence all to the contrary.

Since we swallowed that lie we've believed
We could create for ourselves a paradise on Earth.
All by ourselves without interference from God.
And we banished Him and left Him for dead.

Get out of our schools and nurseries,
Get out of our homes and our cars.
Get off our televisions and radios.
We don't need you, we're fine as we are.

And even in some of the saddest of places
We've run God right out of our churches!
And He has honored our choices and allowed us
To mess up our once very fine world.

And now we blame God for not fixing it.
We blame the church which can't fix it
Anymore than a hospital can stop drive- by shootings or wars
By patching the wounded or pronouncing us dead.

And we blame it on the God who loved us
And Who gave us our way as we demanded,
And we blame it on the hospitals for sinners
That treat our wounds, self-inflicted.

And we blame it on those who have warned us
And we kill them for all of their pains,
For in more ways than one, we have taught ourselves,
That the paycheck for sin's always death.

And now we demand that God fix it.
Well, there are verses where He said that He would,
But the fix involves burning it all down
And starting the Earth over anew.

An uncomfortable proposition for you
If you cling to the notion you're a god
Simply because you ate some fruit in a garden.
Just to prove you've free will and you could.

© 2017 by Tom King

Sunday, September 10, 2017

Nobody At All

I'm nobody at all
I've lately figured that out.
A once great frog on the wall.
Now I'm nothing about which to shout
Thanks to the rough education
God's lately delivered to me,
I've experienced an edification
Uncomfortable as a lesson could be.

The loss of my fine reputation
Though is not too heavy to bear.
And I've shortened my day's preparation
Now that I'm losing my hair.

I'm tossing the hair gel and mousse,
The red power tie, three-piece suit.
All trappings of being somebody with juice.
The question of costume's now moot.

If you're nobody, then nobody's looking
To find you and put you to charity work.
You're not part of the plans they are cooking
You've no noblesse oblige' left to shirk.

I find it all quite liberating,
Being no one makes you strong and not weak.
To not care about the critics' berating.
Sets you free of the "somebody" clique.

I don't care who thinks my way is silly.
I'm a big frog in my own little pond.
And I'll decorate my pad on a lily
With some moss, a flower and a frond.

Just what I have, not what they say are
The things I need to be one of the favored.
For life is a banquet set just where you are,
It only takes time to be savored.

© 2017 by Tom King