|
~ 1 ~
Words may blandish; that subservient minds respond,
Conceit rising to pale vanity's magnetic throng,
For many will accept the false appraising lie,
For a moment of glory in the imagined monarch's eye.
Why burst balloons? 'Tis a cruel process to inspire,
And is cold water poured upon you own dull fire.
For some 'tis dreaming that keeps their heart content,
For some 'tis praying for perceived items never sent,
For others 'tis spite that takes the dream away,
To share their Winter that spoils their Summer day.
For all of us four seasons do always come and go,
Repeated to bring us wisdom that everyone can know,
That the Earth's rhythmic spirit is obvious in the tides,
That ebb and flow regardless of what we all decide.
Leader
~ 2 ~
The symbolic creation of the Earth mocks time,
For some the myth is fundamentally divine,
But in history the absence of a provable claim,
Leaves no truth that logic might sustain.
The inherent and infallible truth that God
Formed all that's said He formed from sod.
Yet by the mystery of this truth unknown,
'Tis sought by some that something should be shown,
To support the faith that in this belief has grown,
Based on the doctrines of self interest at least,
That offers power to the institutionalized priest.
For Robin Hood, King Arthur and his knights,
Sold many books read warmly on cold nights,
And wealth is power that myth that captures fame,
Allows abstract mystery to become a household name.
Main
~ 3 ~
I can't dispute an argument that I cannot myself present,
For I would not know the purpose why such argument you vent
I am not bold enough to speculate lest you choose to deem it true,
And I can't condone assumptions as is put to me by you.
I know this plant is living until its magic roots do die,
Its purpose; to grow a sucker that will develop like you and I.
For perpetuation of the species is the only logic I can see,
For what good is woven into thought that would preserve a wreck like me.
The fact that I can think and talk simply complicates the truth,
Denying every real event with speculation without proof.
Faith to me is in oneself lest it be a hopeful sham,
For bouncing off a mystery does not change the man I am.
It matters not if I do pray; what will happen, will occur,
For praying is emotion as reality will concur.
~ 4 ~
I do not attack your purpose, your thoughts or your beliefs,
I but question what you tell me that my perceptions can increase,
For I understand believing and respect the persons view,
But I'm not obliged to share such faith if I think it isn't true.
Oft people are afraid to say what they've been taught they don't believe,
That the thoughts of their tutors become the same as they perceive.
After all the faith most have is based on the doctrines that are taught,
Not on free will and thinking, from an individuals resort.
But prejudice prevents them from admitting how they feel,
For to go against the Status Quo is to lose all their appeal.
It is common that the poet writes the words folk want to hear,
For then his verses are accepted and he avoids the need to fear.
Once we were forced to listen in that we did not have a choice,
That when I read the Gospel I wonder if it is with my own voice.
~ 5 ~
What do I know of churches, of doctrines and of priests?
I who kill the buffalo that my kin and I can feast,
And we who roam the desert of the great Australian outback,
Does praying to some Christian Lord help us fill our gunny sack.
We move to the coast in Summer where there are fishes we can eat,
Then back to the Desert when the rains grow natural wheat.
There always comes a Winter and death that we do grieve,
But Summer follows closely and we have all that we need.
Nothing changes by our thinking but by natural changing time,
The streams dry up in Summer; in Winter the sun won't shine.
Everything is relevant but we do not understand,
How we came to be these flowers growing in this arid land,
So we soon start thinking that our umpire is a God,
Who made it all just for us from the sacred sod.
~ 6 ~
Are we not all people living on the same despairing Earth
Fighting for survival for all that we are worth?
Do we not owe many riches to many lands far away,
Where their people now do perish due to what we took away?
While we fight for nations richer with resources they can sell,
We are ignoring poorer countries and contributing to their Hell,
For helping them is costly and there is nothing there to gain,
So we go where we can prosper; money valued over shame.
Their Gods do not help them - nor our God of myth, the same,
Does not care about their problem does not help them in their pain.
Righteous words and sympathy feed not their hungry tongues.
Compassion, though expressed with care, will never right these wrongs.
It is action that is needed as the recent Earthquake has described,
For more people out in Africa exceed those who from the Earthquake died.
~ 7 ~
So build your evil missiles and your multi million dollar bombs
Your submarines and armour while your bake your buttered scones,
And use your Gods invented to make your evils right,
To serve you well in battle to justify the righteous fight,
But when you throw your scraps away because you have more than you need,
Just remember how many children your garbage can would feed,
For they are starving in their thousands and dying from disease,
While our God of Myth allows us folk to do what the Hell we please.
And while you dream of heaven where you believe you will go,
Regardless of your evil ways and the lack of compassion that you show,
Ask your God about the truth and about the prejudice you feel
For religion causes warfare more than any other thing we can reveal,
Because it's based on superstition and ignorance and fear,
And will have its way no matter who must shed their blood and tear.
~ 8 ~
Where is this God you speak of, who lives inside your brain?
Where are His deeds of goodness that you righteously do claim?
Why does He let the children in Africa starve and die?
It is a very simple question but you cannot tell me why.
Can you show me where this heaven is where He's supposed to live,
Whose only rule is to worship Him then everything He'll give
For when you do as I do 'tis only you who does it right,
For you have a myth for guidance to lead you through the night.
While me I have the wisdom of experience that is real,
That provides me with the knowledge no matter how I feel.
And when I trip and stumble I can get up on my own,
While you are so dependant on another to lead you home.
And it's all based on the promise that you will never die,
Despite the fact that your body rots where it doth rotting lie.
~ 9 ~
While it's never your desire to accept comment made by me,
It matters not that you project an image you cannot see.
If I can tolerate the words you say then you must tolerate mine,
For of my truth I have the proof but yours you can't define.
For you believe in myth and dialog in a manipulative book,
Translated from an ancient tongue with a heavily edited look.
It is a cult of fear and mystery demanding that you love,
An image you fear in a heaven in the clouds of Earth above.
It is threatening and invasive holding life hostage over death,
With promises that satisfy our desire for immortal breath.
But is it true? We fear to doubt lest we be sent to Hell,
A method used by Al Capone; and he used it rather well.
What is good is moral law that ought to lead to peace,
But religion takes that truth away and so our wars increase.
~ 10 ~
Can you point out where religion in this world so wracked with war,
Has brought true peace to anyone where ever you explore?
Are not the churches of the world based on force and greed,
Strong in countries with the power to spread their evasive seed?
Has not religion followed wealth where ever it could be found,
Destroying peoples of the world and occupying their sacred ground?
And all those folk who did not fit the false image of their eye,
Were they not thought as spiritless beasts who for progress had to die?
The savagery of these butchers whom claim their God forgives,
Who have slaughtered all before them shouting, "Yes the good Lord lives!!"
Who see only those against them as diminished misguided fools
While they wreck the world with righteous lust with their destructive tools
Then vainly try to prop it up because they know they have done wrong,
Still claiming that their way is right and every other way is wrong.
~ 11 ~
They have fancy words for people who oppose the Status Quo,
Who will not do as directed but go the way they want to go.
They have labels designed for everything; ways to put you down;
Subtle methods of delivering spite with a smile that hides the frown.
For they must control the masses for their power base to work,
So they brainwash us as children lest we their religious doctrines shirk
'Tis claimed we are not normal if we are not christened or baptized;
That God will not accept us; all foul sinners in his eyes.
For God is their possession, they own Him don't you see,
They design His every mission to which the faithful must agree,
They tell you, you must love Him that you must fear Him too,
That you must not think for yourself lest you have another view.
Well I guess we all need something in which to believe,
But it ought to be designed on truth, not designed to deceive.
~ 12 ~
I am just a normal person with a perpetual disease
That seems to make me older than my teeth but not my knees,
I did my stunted growing during the bedlam of "the" war,
Being little ever knowing that some bullying was in store.
So I had to learn to meet them and to fashion solid stilts,
To enable me to beat them off with favourable results.
I had to be more skilful for they were bigger men than I,
Though I was still a bit reserved, in fact was downright shy.
But I was told God would protect me if I was always good,
But it didn't seem to work that way; I don't think he understood.
In fact in being kind I did not receive kindness in return,
And though I was taken advantage of, I didn't seem to learn.
But still I could talk a bit and run like bloody Hell,
And also I could stand my ground and fight a bit as well.
~ 13 ~
I used to pray so much to God, and Jesus was my friend,
But I guess I learned from poverty that it was all pretend.
I found during those harsh times the poorest always help,
The rich were far to busy adding new holes to their belt,
The righteous, they had much to say and sympathy galore,
But never once came knocking at our old Hessian door.
Trust in God was bullshit, for we only had ourselves,
Our faith in one another that we found all fear repels.
Some Priest came out one Christmas morn to ply his stupid art,
Later in the morning with his promises he did depart.
We were just a bunch of sinners because then we were poor,
And in those days be assured it was against the public law.
Yes the fancy folk in Churches sang their delightful little hymns
But when they leave the place they wallow in, soon their compassion dims.
~ 14 ~
But of course we did not ask for help - our burdens were our own,
And never once did Jesus call on the telephone.
The guardian angels at my bed had long since gone away,
And I knew nothing ever changed no matter how hard one might pray.
'Twas courage needed in oneself; from oneself strength must come,
And in the end it's down to you for everything you've done.
The gravel roads were heartless as was the merciless sun,
But we pushed our way to freedom without a promise or a gun.
We tolerated all their hatred, their spite, and jealous ways,
For they needed us to plead for help before their self righteousness decays
But we didn't need to kiss their boots and crawl to their demands,
We had our own sturdy hearts and strong fingers on our hands
So we sowed our souls into the land and loved it as our own,
And from it ever since that time our family it has grown.
~ 15 ~
I see the daisy by the stream growing prettily in the Sun,
And in a nearby willow tree I see a web by a spider spun
I see the beauty of this world though I see it fading fast,
But I also know that insects fight hidden in the swaying grass.
For constantly while beauty seems the purpose for it all,
The desperate struggle to survive is the reality which befalls
Life is pain, and savage need means death is justified,
For predators are meant to feed on those of life denied.
And all that lives to grow and bloom, by death must be controlled,
Though they are killed in war so young or die from growing old.
The wheel turns the cycle moves the Earth around the Sun,
And we who seek to change it all have nothing when we're done.
For death is death and must be so, preserving the event of birth,
For it matters not which tree doth live so long as there's a tree upon the Earth.
~ 16 ~
The spirit of our souls doth lend a passion to the wind,
That is the breath of living death that nothing can rescind
For the debris of the Earth is death that germinates all life,
Where the breezes find the dormant seed to spread it like a knife.
Of the soils and of the streams we were formed from Mother Earth,
As was all life as is here formed to germinate in birth.
We share our limbs with other kinds; we share our sap and blood,
We are all structured much the same in a sort of brotherhood.
If we were made by a God that we are in image all His clone
Why would he need the body we have as a spirit in his home
It makes no sense that when we die we adopt another form,
If what we look like here on Earth is in heaven just the norm.
But as we know we rot away leaving nothing of value left,
Thus here I leave it in your minds - reality or a myth?
|