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    poetry


    dots Submission Name: Blasphe-medots
    --------------------------------------------------------





    Author: shaman
    ASL Info:    32/m/Holland,MI
    Elite Ratio:    8 - 821/406/72
    Words: 2009
    Class/Type: Poetry/Misc
    Total Views: 1720
    Average Vote:    No vote yet.
    Bytes: 13103



    Description:
       2nd draft- not finished pretty solid up to the dots i think. the funky lettering appears to be a trade marked apostrophe It doesn't show up when looking through and editing it may be a couple day before i go through and fix it.


    Make the font bigger!! Double Spacing Back to recent posts.

    dotsBlasphe-medots
    -------------------------------------------


    God was the first poem ever written
    An apple bitten
    A garden hidden
    for all eternity

    He
    Speaks to the speed of the heartbeats;
    Checking his watchful time piece;
    The sun
    And as sundials paint smiles on shadowy faces
    God shines from the cracks between your teeth
    And other hard to reach places;
    So try flossing before flogging others for their believes
    And you may find you're in a bind cause
    God got stuck between your teeth

    God wears sleeveless shirts and Tennis skirts
    She knows that Luv doesn't keep score
    She is the whore who you ignore;
    Though she sits on your porch and begs
    With open arms and legs
    To receive you

    God is a stereoty-pickle Jew
    Arguing in Hebrew over the holo-cost of kosher food
    He was a German guard
    Shooting stars of David

    Destitute, Evicted
    Now living in the street
    Scouring the ground for pop cans
    So he can get something to eat

    Wonder-bread why can't we see
    God in the faces of the people in city slums;
    Selling crack on the corner and packing guns
    Shackled and given another numb-
    Ber Just-ice is cold

    God is bought and sold like tea leaves
    Pover-tea leaves;
    A bitter taste in God's mouth
    It ap-peers from first glance he'll have to go
    without
    a pot to piss in
    Listen
    God's not a prescription,
    Even if
    Free will is a birth control pill;
    Only 99% effective
    God's not selective
    He lives in the joint down the street;
    A gateway drug,
    Smuggling vision to those with Glaucoma.
    God is Basilar Carcinoma;
    They say beauty is only skin deep anyway

    God is decaying;
    Swimming through a compost heap of decomposing prayers
    He needs a life preserver;
    If only yours eyes were open and hands weren't folded
    You could save him

    God spins
    Gold back into straw
    In an effort to remove the awe from the material trough;
    That we mite drink the living water

    God is fodder
    Hay wait a minute
    God is infinite;
    A light bulb that we call inspiration
    A bulb that causes heat
    And the heat causes her feet to perspire
    God is a choir;
    Sweetly singing sacred syllables and hymnals
    God's become a symbol

    But
    Cymbals clash
    and gastric by-pass has drastic side effects
    The truth becomes hard to stomach
    As ideals intersect

    Our pictures of perfection,
    Keep blurring out of focus
    And suddenly our absolutes
    Just seem like hocus pocus

    Our emotions choke us
    Discussing loved ones taken too soon
    Simultaneously God dies
    To be reborn into the next room

    Turns out the tomb is empty
    We've been grieving for no reason,
    Because Jesus never left us
    We've just forgotten how to see him

    We weren't banished from Eden
    In fact it's right outside your door
    And God is sleeping next to you;
    Stealing blankets as she snores

    Steam seeps through her pores
    After she hops into the shower
    Shaving her lathered legs
    as she ponders dreams devoured

    Turns out the fruit went sour
    Our knowledge left us powerless
    We forgot we are God's children
    We were once nurtured by her breasts
    We switched to scientific formulas
    Most found harder to digest

    Unfulfilled by emptiness
    Our stomachs start to shrink
    And we've discovered teething
    Bites more than you'd think

    We're feeling Hallo-
    Weaned off our mother's milk
    We've become too accustomed to putting our customs in costumes
    Making them march thru the streets.
    Is this a trick or a treat?
    And
    Will you swallow what they give you to eat?
    Concrete in our deceit;
    A foundation of lies,
    Still wearing masks as we ask " Mirror, mirror on the wall, should we rise or should we fall?
    And
    Can you tell me who is God?"
    It answers
    "Both rise and fall, you are a wave.
    Remove your masks don't be afraid.
    And as we em-bark of the path
    To remove our masks
    Surprised eyes realize
    We;
    Like deities and leaves blown in the breeze, share common roots in poet-tree.
    Could it be?
    God is art;
    Creation is worship.
    So don't allow those withering without imagination to impose on prose,
    Don't let them turn worship into a warship.
    God is as delicious and decadent as Dogoba dark chocolate;
    Dogma is meant
    To be devoured delicately

    Still,
    We damn people to keep our steeples standing
    All the while demanding to be flooded by the holy spirit

    We embrace our humanity with humility
    But house our divinity in a separate vicinity;
    Forcing it to come-mute
    In our fear so resolute

    We brought God to the vet to have him neutered;
    In fear of omnipresence
    God drinks from the toilet then gives you sloppy kisses
    He marks his territory
    Letting us enjoy the illusion of being the master
    In God we find the subtlety and sanctuary of unconditional love and life here after
    doG proves that only by serving can we become like God;
    The master,
    A backwards display dyslexics all know too well

    God dwells inside nautilus shells
    You brought her in for show and tell
    When you were six
    Before a golden crucifix held meaning
    You held the golden mean
    And listened to sounds of the ocean;
    A lullaby tide to the moon,
    God is a dune;
    Eroding,
    Hoping soon
    Well walk on water

    God's been chucked in the slaughter house;
    Mickey mouse may out last him
    The seven deadly sins are seven dwarves;
    There's no time to be bashful,
    And of course Eve;
    white as snow;
    was the first to eat the apple
    Under the cap of a Snapple we found Wendy
    So now it's off to Never-land
    But there's a hook;
    There's no pixie dust or peter pan;
    and rather than chasing our shadows
    we turn and run the other way
    We're afraid of our potential
    So we bow our heads to pray

    The bible is a fable;
    There's a lesson to be learned,
    If you want to meet the Christ you don't have to wait your turn

    And yeah it makes your stomach churn,
    Burning from the inside out, when you realize
    God's in front of you sitting on the couch

    Slouching
    Watching T.V. she
    Folds her fingers into a church then a steeple
    Then she opens up the doors,
    But where the Fuck are all the people?
    Two thirds of the seats are empty
    Those present are fast asleep

    Dreaming of a place and time when they'll be one with the divine;
    Waiting for some sort of sign;
    "Wake up! The time is now."

    She's a yogi now in corpse pose;
    She just finished the plow,
    But hey she's only playing
    Energy can't die
    Even so day after day so many of us try

    In fact God's a spider;
    In her web so many tangled,
    They need to have strings attached;
    Can't believe that we are angels

    And banners star spangled
    Dangle over our heads
    God brought wedding rings of Saturn
    But we refused to be wed
    Ad-dressing ego instead
    Like hey it's time to party
    And if there's silver on my hand it'd better be Bacardi

    Disregard the Hardy boys
    It's you who are the mystery clinging to you bible as if his-story ended there

    God's a teenage girl whose parents are unprepared
    As she training bra readies for the unsteady climb of adolescence
    Effervescently using similes like there are no other forms of expression
    And yes she's dating her ego and sense of independence inflating exponentially
    Dripping wet;
    Wrapped in a towel,
    She scowls at her father as he tells her to put some clothes on
    She uses Playt-ex cross your heart and hope not to die
    As pacifies herself in and effort to avoid the daily grind
    She is crucified;
    Rolling the stone back over her tomb;
    The egg out of her womb,
    Miscarrying the cross

    God is at a loss as the housing market collapses
    God’s in every signal sent from dendrites to synapses
    Battling depression she takes another pill
    Trying to decipher good or evil through the peril of free will

    Still the hells in which we dwell are only prisons of perception,
    We each shares the shekinah; one conscious connection

    More than once while enraged
    We've slammed ourselves shut;
    Caging spirituality,
    While
    Physically smashing her metaphysical fingers
    But...
    She lingers;
    Her scent on your shirt;
    The one you've been wearing every day
    Since you last saw her

    The kingdom and the power are hers,
    She keeps them in her purse
    In between her billfold and tampons;
    Pursing her lips to kiss you goodbye

    Don't tie yourself up in......
    Fear knot
    She won't kiss and tell;
    Though she knows every fold of your body
    As she folds creased knees around you

    God is a poultice;
    Meant to heal,
    But through disease reveals
    The true nature of our mistakes
    So we sing songs of praise.
    The baptismal pool quakes,
    Rippling from the cries of an infant's eyes who is starting to forget what God looks like

    God's an infant,
    With an infinite imagination
    She's learning the Fisher Price of knowledge
    As she struggles to shove a circle through the triangular whole
    She knows
    The 2000 year old burning bush has turned to ash and she has diaper rash;
    She cries to be changed,
    But God is energy and energy is change
    So in essence she is crying for herself;
    With strained vocal chords and a tear soaked one-piece .
    Her mother rushes into her room with milk swollen breasts
    And as lips press together like prayers around her areola, she feeds her need to nurture


    ---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------


    We saw that pieces of Jes-us were in us,

    But you want a lump sum;
    A tall tale told by a golden tongue,
    Let me summ-it up
    When and if you climb to the top of vine
    The only giant you'll find is your ego,

    You see
    God is nestle quick
    But you're the one mixed up

    God is queer
    He feels the searing pain;
    Steered away from his church,
    An entire faith's condemnation

    God is light
    Brightly sparkling like Cinderella's glass slipper
    Until we shattered it and reassembled it as the Big Dipper
    Bear
    That you stare at through the telescoped sky
    You are one with God;
    Separation's a lie
    To imply that fingers are separate from the hand
    Or to believe that the ocean is separate from sand
    Is putting your ass in the air and excepting a brand of imperfection
    Is just plain foolishness,
    So fuck your Sunday day school lessons

    God is the last frontier
    But when we see her front
    Tears will began to flow
    Because we'll discover; under cover
    God isn't what we know
    Every hue-man will be blue in the face
    It seems a lie was penciled in
    After the truth had been erased
    But will you dare to embrace
    God when you see
    He is actually a she,
    And this form of perfection never needed our erections

    God is a sphinx;
    Half female, half lioness,
    But we reshaped her breasts
    So she became a he
    And we adopted this fallacy;
    this phallus,
    Putting steeples on our churches




    Submitted on 2005-05-27 18:48:26     Terms of Service / Copyright Rules
    Submissions: [ Previous ] [ Next ]

    Rate This Submission

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    4: Pretty cool
    5: Wow!




    ||| Comments |||
      It is almost a rap, sort of like 'The Streets' on crack, it is certainly brand new, it feels as though it took along time for you to create but I am guessing that you enjoyed writing, I know that I always do.

    It was interesting, heavy and most surely blaspheme to a T.

    I really enjoyed it. Thanks for the read.

    GBG - Leah
    | Posted on 2007-03-02 00:00:00 | by MornSweetSong | [ Reply to This ]
      what the F U C K were you on when you wrote this [censored]?

    maybe you consider yourself philisophical, but hey, i got a question for you...

    A wise man can play a fool, but can a fool play a wise man?
    | Posted on 2006-11-23 00:00:00 | by psyko | [ Reply to This ]
      You may think I'm being catty because you bashed the hell out my last one, but I just don't like this one and I am a fan of everything else I've read of yours. It's the whole blaspheme issue... it's not kosher and I'm not cool with that. Personal opinions aside I did take the time to read this mini-book (12 pages printed out) and here's what I have to say:

    I'm going to leave the spelling and grammer alone because I'm not certain what was intentional and what was not.

    God wears sleeveless shirts and Tennis skirts
    She knows that Luv doesn't keep score
    She is the whore who you ignore;
    Though she sits on your porch and begs
    With open arms and legs
    To receive you
    *Love love love that stanza

    God spins
    Gold back into straw
    In an effort to remove the awe from the material trough;
    That we might drink the living water
    *Profound thinking

    Wearing wooden shoes and six pairs of socks
    -I would get rid of that... I don't see the point

    He got too aggressive and possessive so we filed a restraining order;
    No longer allowed within
    500 feet
    *I like that

    God has hundreds of feet;
    She's a millipede
    Laying eggs in the soil
    Then foraging for spoiling leaves
    -Is this a type of metaphor for all of the people God has created and foraging for the lost souls?

    God's got Grey Poupon; Dijon mustard
    and
    God is Peter Pan peanut butter on your PB&J
    -those lines just seem a bit commercial for no reason

    And as we view deleted scenes
    (through)
    Making salads sing ballets
    -I don't see the point of these lines

    However,
    The bible is a fable
    (through)
    God's in front of you sitting on the couch
    -I really like that... I can relate totally to this

    But where the [censored] are all the people
    -I think where the Hell are all the people would work better... [censored] is kinda strong and you could play on Hell with the whole blaspheme topic

    My favorite line in the whole thing has got to be
    And if there's silver in my hand it'd better be Bacardi *That's superb!

    She
    Smooths on foundation
    (through)
    Miscarrying the cross
    -That was just a bit too over the top for my liking and I felt like it strayed from your original train of thought

    The seven deadly sins
    (through)
    As if his-story ended there
    -again I felt like that was just too commercial for this piece

    To many of us were fed formula
    (through)
    We declared God to have no purpose
    -and once again I don't see the relevance of this

    We've become too accustomed to putting on
    (through)
    To be devoured delicately
    -The rythym of this the rhyme the words the thought behind it .... it all works... I like this one

    She is hovering over the toilet because you peed on the seat -Do what?!

    You see
    God is nestle quick
    But you're the one mixed up
    *profoud thought... a bit commercial, but it works here.

    But will you dare to embrace
    God when you see
    He is actually a she
    And this form of perfection doesn't need our erections -although that pushes the limits on appropriateness (in my opinion) I really love that

    I'm not sure what Karma and it's effect have to do with the stanza that it's in...

    Oh say can you see
    Our journeys are the same
    Though you walk a different path
    And call your God by different names
    Divinity lives in you
    Heart burning in your chest
    Power beyond measure
    Can be difficult to digest
    ***that's tight

    Too frequently
    We don't see
    God in person
    We treat God like an STD
    Using ministers and priest
    like to condoms
    To cum between us
    -I could do without all of that

    In the stanza following that you've got the repetition of skin and the 3rd time was one too many.

    To end on a high note I like
    What sense does it make to deny your essence
    Life is a gift; Unwrap omni-presents,
    And know no boundaries

    You obviously new no boundaries while writing this piece. Not my favorite... much love to ya! My job is done!
    | Posted on 2006-10-20 00:00:00 | by kiddo13 | [ Reply to This ]
      All I can say is this: This is definately out of the ordinary.
    WOW
    About the only other word I can say.
    WOW
    I'm completely speechless. I never thought of God like this before... You've really opened my eyes; this piece has moved me in a strange way and opened my heart a bit more to the Good Lord.
    Thank you.
    Keep up the awesome writes!

    -"GBG"
    | Posted on 2005-07-02 00:00:00 | by GigaBowserG | [ Reply to This ]
      On the one hand, it can't be all bad to see God in all things. He is the Creator, after all. We must remember, however, that all things get perverted with time (entropy) and that explains a lot.
    | Posted on 2005-06-30 00:00:00 | by Blue Monk | [ Reply to This ]
      Wow, you're all over the map here.
    (S)He has got you all worked up.
    At the end, you want to make the line "He got too aggressive..."
    I'd like to hear you read it out loud some time.
    Dave
    | Posted on 2005-05-31 00:00:00 | by Sandburg | [ Reply to This ]
      
    Ok...so this took awhile...sorry :(
    Been falling away more and more these days.

    Ok...the poem was good...always like your style but I must say some of the 'God' places seemed to stand out...but hten I try to replace and..."NAAAA" no good.

    The images are sound and rock solid...freaky too I must say... I'd love to pick your mind and see for myself what's going on in there.

    Feeling Hallo-
    Weened off our mother's milk
    We've become too accustomed to putting our customs in costumes
    Making them march thru the streets.
    Is this a trick or a treat?

    It's stuff like this that make your work brilliant and so worth the time it takes to get through one after a long day at work ;)

    This is one for the records...and I can see why it is causing mixed feelings in the crowd around here...you've done well and it shows.
    Thanks for your honesty Dave, not many can do this sooo well
    kelly
    | Posted on 2005-05-30 00:00:00 | by clay | [ Reply to This ]
      fuuuu**kn A you broke the record--I never read long bs---and it is what I at first thought this was-I was dead wrong--I enjoyed the clever wordings throughout--this is a total beatpoetyry winner for sure-you should come with me my friend and we could rule the world or atr least the white hip hop back alley pizza rappers commitee-lol anyway real good one --could be shorter but so could I--I'm making it a fav and that is a rare thing--not that Im some hot shot--well....anyway nice job

    lamemansterms
    | Posted on 2006-04-18 00:00:00 | by LameMansTerms | [ Reply to This ]
      Wow...wow...wow.
    I think I've read this before..did you write a shorter peom before on this topic? cos I think I commented on it,
    the 'god has budding breasts..' bit LOL

    this was a wonderfullly imaginative and thought provoking poem.

    'God is a glove; one size fits all, '
    I adore this line. Since at the moment it appears to be conflict with religions, it's like wake up and smell the coffee. lol.

    'physically slamming her metaphysical fingers..' so very true..

    I love how you have humanised God..although it may be blasphemous indeed..LOL...
    likening him to a teenage female, a teenagmale.. human things like tampons, and feeding babies, and erections and whores and chocolate.. so incredibly vivid and imaginative, and at the same time shocking and in your face..

    She is the whore that you ignore; though she sits on your porch and begs
    With open arms and legs to receive you
    this was so witty.

    I cant keep quoting lines that really got to me as they all did, all in all I thank you for this very interesting read indeed.
    I wonder, if you feel we would be more ashamed about how we hurt our fellow humans, by this portrait of a more human God, or if we just feel safe in having this unknown, higher supreme being God who we can't really make personal? Just a thought.

    peace and love,
    alexis.
    | Posted on 2005-05-28 00:00:00 | by pennyroyal tea | [ Reply to This ]


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