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Hypochristy & Untitled (Poems)

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posted on Jul, 1 2006 @ 11:02 AM
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These are about the only socially motivated poems I've ever written; I normally don't care much for what's going on in the world, but one day I was in a bad mood for some reason and these just kinda came on their own.

Just a quick note about the first one: it's written at the televangelist who's in it for the money and those fundamentalists who instantly condemn anyone who disagrees with them. However, the underlying ideal is not directed at any one religion, denomination, or person. Feel free to ask for clarification or anything; it's still a bit early in the morning for me and my neurons aren't firing right yet


Hypochristy
A sacred book held to your chest
You proclaim that which is best
For those of us who have not seen

You teach us all how we should live
And ask for us our money to give
To help you save the souls that haven't yet been

You preach to us about our wrongs
Our violent movies and lustful songs
You condemn us for our ways

Lest ye be judged you judge us all
And point out the ways in which we fall
From your heralded heavenly grace

You claim that those who follow you not
Are like some demon child begot
Of Satan or one of his many forms

You fail to remember that when it's done
When all our earthly time is gone
You like us will still be food for worms

True there may be some higher power
And when we've met our final hour
Perhaps you'll be alone at heaven's door

Of equal chance will stand a Jew
A muslim or one of the few
Of 'righteous' cults that preach their lore

Perhaps the 'savages' are the ones
Who know the place from whence we come
Perhaps we killed the only righteous race

Perhaps no one has gotten it right
And when we fail to wake from night
We simply vanish from this place

I do not claim to have an answer
But I feel that if it not were
For arrogance we wouldn't care

It's only our mind afraid of dying
Only our mind that keeps us crying
When we think of a time without us there

Next time you wear your Sunday best
And give money to God at a preacher's address
Think of whether it's truly well spent

The money won't buy a soul a way
After all, the money will stay
On earth where ever we have went

The higher power most figures do serve
Is themselves and not the undying word
They tell you that everyone else is wrong

They say that you'll have a mansion of gold
In the hereafter if you join their fold
And all of the sheep go quietly along

The only difference from artists of fraud
Is that they don't give a promise of God
They only promise an earthly gain

They steal your money, your house or your car
Before you realize exactly how far
They've taken you to material pain

The men of the cloth are often similar
Bewitching one with a tale too familiar
Or would be if one would open their mind

They teach us it's wrong to give a thought
To whether they're right or whether they're not
And tell us to teach others in kind

They justify the teachings told
With ancient, archaic words of old
With words that only we make matter

They teach us that if we listen to them
Listen to their talk of Him
Then heaven is on our silver platter

They sometimes preach things we should heed
Say kind words or do good deeds,
Things that often we overlook

But the reach of "Our Lord" crosses the line;
It reaches too far into society's mind
To where scripture is in the law books

We base our lives on those long past
In a world that moves much too fast
To live as they did way back then

In our endless search for the divine
We always look and always find
The faults of other, but not within

We worry about those godless souls
And forget about our internal roles
To make sure that our lives run well

We condemn the world though we are blessed
By the cross upon our chest
We know we'll never go to Hell

We know the truth it set us free
You are wrong, but never me
You are the one to be damned

And then what happens if that day comes
When the body goes eternally numb
And it's nothing at all like we had planned?

Then what becomes of all we've said
Forcing others to live as we're bred
Is that really what Jesus would've done?

Believe what you will but remember this
Your memory will always exist
Many long years after you're gone


(Untitled--Money & Celebrity)
Man spends his days in greedful lust
In endless search of money and power
Spending each of his waking hours
To find the demon that he trusts

We feel our lives will be improved
If mountains of gold we possess
If those we know we can impress
That of which society has approved

Discontent with how we are
We feel not a moment of bliss
At a loved one's tender kiss
But damn! we got a brand new car

We cannot cure our nations ills
We cannot shelter those without
Our merry ways we go about
Trying to only get our fill

We laugh at all the nations who
Spend their gains on one another
Act as if they are all brothers
Work for all and not for few

We think we have the answers here
"All for me" is our battle cry
We care not how, we care not why
To do without is our greatest fear

Lives are lived upon our streets
Souls who never know a home
They spend their lives cold, alone
Never have a fire at their feet

Perhaps they chose this course they tread
Perhaps it is their own design
Perhaps in this way they find
The happiness we seem to dread

Maybe to live without a home
To remove ourselves from this land
That always wants fortune at hand
Is worth the price of being alone

Society is worth a tear at best
The news can teach that much
Focus placed on lies and such
A blackened heart within it's chest

Turn on our God and you will see
Money spent on worthless junk
That's bought because they paid some hunk
Who never looks like you or me

Sex sells millions; society's blessed
We know what we need to survive
Food and love won't keep us alive
We need a flatter stomach, bigger breasts

And then their's our Idols upon the stage
Who entertain us constantly
Even when they meant to be
More than the focus of displaced rage

We take their lives as if our own
We talk of them as if we knew
The type of life that they go through
And their worst side is all we're shown

But that's okay, gossip sells great
A more common drug than coc aine
And one that always gets free reign
Real news just has to wait

What does it matter to us all
Why does one man because of fame
Get treated as if not the same
When "lesser" men take their fall

Why should the ones upon the screen
Hold greater parts of our lives
They make their living in honest lies
Yet unlike us they should live clean

But we cannot stand to look within
To see what we've done wrong
So when one who sings hit songs
Fails we focus on THEIR sins

We sit for hours glued to our life
Of stars who murdered, raped, or theived
But we forgot those not on TV
Our husbands, children, our wife

We forget the ones who's lives we take
For granted every day
They're not on the Great White Way
They don't live by being fake

EDIT: Changed the post title.

[edit on 7/1/2006 by MCory1]




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