Sabean Inscription

Apr26

Oh Sovereign of wisdom Solomonic,
forgive us. The wicked wax demonic.
Golden vessels fill with foulness
man is bankrupt, sold and soulless
Unsettling harbingers loom dystopian.
Sheba rises in dreams Ethiopian.

Tested with questions, her spirit once gone,
occultic suggestions postponed her dawn.
(Six-hundred and sixty-six talents of gold
paid Nineveh’s rise as Messiah foretold.
Go read it in Matthew, obstinate sinner
You think He intends to have Satan the winner?)
Her ruins now surveyed by satellite
beheld on the screens of the Canaanite:
canals to expose, southern deserts to cross,
Eritrean legends of Prophet (and loss),
the Ark of King Menelik—Kebra Negast,
treasures of darkness presented, now past
have us checking those texts that worldlings despise
as we wait under dread Luciferian skies.

Break the sixth seal of the seventh scroll;
let the thirteenth angel spill the bowl!
(or smoke it up in the courts of Heaven
till ganja’s infinitude totals seven . . . )
Exhume Axum with the damned of Marib.
Decode the encryption on Adam’s rib
unearthed from some Antediluvian ravine—
blast from the past: she explodes on our scene!
Seven oaths shall be sworn on her spectral beauty
(our Biblical transcendental duty).
The libation is mixed. Are we ready to swill it?
Beersheba? She brew! Let us rise to fulfill it.
from sita to Saba fifth columns are ready:
Oh Sovereign — render their pillars unsteady.
For after explosions there’s mess to clean up,
and it’s worse than the horrors inside of her cup.

GOLD666

It’s OK: Best Lives Now !

Apr25

Tulsa, OK named and claimed it
then prophetically proclaimed it:
Ken and Gloria invested—
slick, convincing, uncontested.
Pretty-boy preachers wowed the flock,
making Christ the laughing stock;
their best lives, yielding heresies:
out-phariseeing Pharisees—
as if their western cowboy drawls
could bless impulsive bank withdrawals.
Peculiar to the U.S.A.
where truth is prophesied away
and churches spring like tares and breed
while tele-preachers intercede
for breakthroughs, blessings, Mammon’s gold,
their folly long ago foretold
in frenzied tones; the healing tongue
counts dollars where Paul counted dung.
I’m sure they all believe it’s true . . .
they know it justifies fleecing you.

Lutherans totally ROCK !

Church-o-Rama³

Apr24

…a threefold cord is not quickly broken. (Ecclesiastes 4:12)

A pastoress once bore a name
which merits neither guilt nor shame;
Pentecosta Charismania
(biblical in megalomania).
Worthy of poetic fame,
a brilliant if unstable flame,
sincere she was, yet volatile.
She brought it down, revival-style.
At altar calls, she could inspire
tongues of glossolalian fire
The Devil she would oft rebuke
with lines from John, or Paul, or Luke
a prophetess on holy crack
was Pentecosta on the attack…

Her nemesis was prudent, able
doctrinally dull—but stable:
Patriciana Presbyteria.
Less given to divine hysteria,
wisdom did adorn her table;
and her soul bore well the label.
No prophecies escaped her lips
nor prone to divinating slips,
this sensible reformed young maid
was made to have and have it made.
Elect, correct in doctrine, wit
invested in no counterfeit,
her pop’s portfolio lent her worth:
not less than heaven cashed on earth.

Mocking these unseemly heretics
swayed by neither sects nor politics
was Maria Della Romana:
Faithful matron, primadonna.
Loyal to her Papal rite,
she grieved her sisters by candlelight,
fingered furious rosaries
stormed the gates with St. Peter’s keys
beseeching Jesus that they turn
from devil’s doctrines fit to burn,
rejoin the holy Mother Church
rather than their souls besmirch
with further Antichristian sin.
(She genuflected fit to win.)

God is known in Trinity
but less through femininity:
His three adherents, flamed by One
like braided gold reflecting sun
are Christian fates: three tendencies
or triplicate analyses,
tripartite in judgemental grace
each one assumed, with zealous face
that the other two could not be saved
as sure as Heaven’s roads are paved
with wisdom’s gold and Christ’s pure light.
(They made a most amusing sight.)
Since threefold cords cannot be broken,
let my punchline rest, unspoken.