Title art by L.H. Grey

 

 

 

Lying lips are an abomination to the Lord, but those who deal faithfully are His delight
Proverbs I think
can’t be quite sure
far too busy bleeding from my eyes to recall
why do they bleed you ask
well…

 

all I see here is mistruth and hypocrisy
ancient autocracy
imperious demands from one so vain that he created man in his very own image

this pious prophet
may appear philosophic
but his methodology is prehistoric

 

reeks of contradiction
He feeds on the dereliction of the broken
for once He hath spoken
it hath been decreed
and those not prepared to serve him
are banished to the Judas tree

 

here they await final judgement
are left to ponder their transgressions
their fates
entirely within His discretion
absolution is offered
but only at the price of sniveling confession
and there are deaf ears beyond the lattice
the same deaf ears which ignore the prayers of children

 

nothing divine about His intervention
or His condescension
as He patronizes through hymn
reminds us all just how insignificant We are
How Great Thou Art
hardens His sex
and he ejaculates for the chorus
soaks up the adulation
and spits it back out in our faces

 

He is a plague
and yet
He speaks foul of another
a fallen angel
renounced
stripped of his regalia
driven out
for the very highest of treason

 

and this is God’s will
a privileged lie
devised only for ill-use
only for selfish gain
only to watch a dignified man suffer
for his own sick amusement

 

and this is God’s will
to make us revere him
fear him
Awake, arise or be for ever fall’n
dish out ultimatum after ultimatum
and yet
it is We who repeat his remarks verbatim
We who exalt him

 

and this is God’s will
to abhor imperfection
ignore our quiet reflections
let us think We have a choice
when He took that away the very second we placed the communion wafers on our tongues
when it is His that devises destruction
like a sharp razor
O worker of deceit

 

and this is God’s will
to bear false witness
cunt us off
to lie
to cheat
to pour a tall glass of conceit
then drink it Himself
and toast His own health

 

this is a God?

no

this is no God to me.

 

 

“Hell is empty. All the devils are here.” – Shakespeare

 

 

Richard Charles Stevens

 

Keeper of The Crimson Quill

 

 

 

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