Tuesday, July 20, 2004

HYPOCRISY (another angsty poem)

Hypocrisy shouted the church bells as it tolled for the mass
Gossipers and murderers come to meet in Sunday’s mass

I see the old woman with a cane
She hit her maid with it when she wouldn’t bend like a crane

I see the well-groomed man getting out of his vintage car
His servants starve while he holds a feast

He throws money to the beggars seeking approval from society
But his dark heart betrays the teachings of God

Enter the hypocrites into the house of God
The priest drinks wine and says it is Jesus’ blood

He abuses children and rapes women;
Behind the cloister, is his evildoing

He is housed in a temple of goodness corroded by man’s frailty
Is he an apostle of God or a political installation?

The poor appear poor and begs for food
But can they help themselves so God will too?

There is a spinster donning her veil but
Eyeing the married man

She whispers to her old maids
Judging young girls in sleeveless wear

Young boys go to church to see,
the new women they can victimize, perhaps with chocolate-covered words

Murderers and sinners convene
Raising alleluias to the heavens

Asking forgiveness from God
For the wrong they’ve done

They are asking favors
Bargaining with God

“If you give me this
I won’t do that.”


This is Sunday’s habit when the church bells toll
Come you hypocrites, worship at MY door

Let us pray for sinners
Now and until our pockets fill with treasures

Let us forget God nailed to the cross
He has died but is not dead really

He will forgive,
So is thought.





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