"BELIAL ABOVE THE PIT"

Belial hovers above the pit as an angel of enmity

his counsel forevermore
to bring sin and guilt upon man

twisted angel of fornication
presenting the vampyromorph phallus

mustard gas cloud nimbus of soot  
bleeding into the open wounds
a syphilis of the soul,
vinegar of molestation

the black fumes of a rotten cadaver
molest the air when he appears
and disappears
flickering amongst the layers

controllant of scores of demons !

his army is the angels of rape and terrorism
allotted to him
to serve and protect
the arch crown of evil

a great troop of fiendish demons
spurting balls of fire from their mouths
torment the buttocks of twenty-six poor women
with flaming birch rods
while shoving shekels down their tortured throats

the three nets of Belial :

    fornication,
    wealth, and
    pollution of the sanctuary

in the bottom of the pit
an archaic fossil cache
is kept : extinct taxa of demonology
now unleashed

Belial spreads his wings
to the sound of fuck and death

the human soul is sold forever
for the price of a whore

"CATHERINE OF SIENA DRANK THE PUS OF THE POOR"

it is tough being a Christian
in a world full of absolute dunces

what kind of empathy am i supposed to conjure
at the sight of these dullard throngs ?

i dislike these folks
only wanting to play when there is money attached
the opportunists of faith
only wanting to pray when there is crisis attached

a prayer

never out of gratitude
never out of contemplation

never in true silence
never in true peace

only when they need something

only in mauvaise foi

"daddy please help me..."

faith dwells its ambush suspended
like a massive crocodilian in brumation :
when times get hot, the teeth will show
again

and when times get hot
people will pray
again
when they so feel desperate
to whatever deity
will promise the most pleasant paradise !

  no loyalty
  no honesty
  no dedication
  no true submission

God is not a bank nor a therapist  

religion is meant to be comforting – not comfortable

profane calumnies i launch against the tricksters,
the quacks and the beguilers...

i curse the Judases, the Quislings,
the double-dealers and all other
betrayers and bedevillers of the Faith !

 Catherine incised the abscess of the poor
 and emptied in a goblet the contents
 from which she proceeded to drink
  in a saintlike effort to heal them –

       what do you do again ?

      your redemption is on hold
      until further notice !

"FROM THE PULPITS OF THE FIDEISTS"

i contest the various proposed proofs
of the existence of God as irrelevant
since i hold that belief in God is not contingent
on any human ability of reason

even if the proofs were valid, the principles
with which they propose to describe or demonstrate "God"
are not congruent with the deity – actual God –
worshiped by actual faiths both historical and living :

i implore you : seek out ( and i quote Pascal : )
"the God of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob—
not the god of the philosophers!"

philosophers are oft guilty of hubris, but so is the scientist flock :
they are masters of their worlds and in their guilds,
masters of their disciplines, in their laboratories,
thinking anything become their subject !

but where is the mathematician with correct measurements of divinity ?

and show me a philosopher eager to seek
more so than he is
to know

filthy hubris from the ecclesial elites !

anyway –
God's existence cannot be certainly known,
and the decision to accept faith
is neither founded on, nor feeds off of,
any means of rational justification

the belief in a God made flesh
or the belief in a woman fruitful immaculate
is the acceptance of a kind of rational abomination,
    a paradox absolute, we concede that :

    reason cannot comprehend this phenomenon

    therefore, reason is put in suspension

faith is a church upon a hill in a land
where reason suspends mystically
and reality relates mythically :

the accounts of the Gospel are, historically speaking,
probably not true and perhaps even demonstrably false

yet this fact would do nothing to damage faith –
even the opposite is true !

the historical inaccuracy of the Scripture only procures its profundity

faith is a glue
between man and God

one cannot know if religious doctrines are true
without seeing if they work,
but they cannot be seen to work,
unless one believes them in the first place !

you can not reap a harvest of faith
without fully entering these croplands !

there is no food here to eat, unless you cultivate it yourself
put faith in the clouds and the raindrops and weathers – or starve !

the true God is experienced in the threshing,
not in the fantasy of being done with it   

and redemption is to be found in the actual fall –
not in bragging beforehand about
how hard the mountain is to climb....

   fool !
   this is not a commodity you can try on
   before you decide to purchase it !

faith comes first – a leap of faith :
then comes, by hard work or mystical fortuity or both,
a chance and glance at redemption

ask yourself : what ocean can you cross without losing sight of the shore ?

true faith is to let go
and follow the voice in the darkness

true faith is true humility :
for there is nothing as vulnerable

faith, trust, beauty and attention
are the greatest gifts a human person
can possibly bestow on God or another person,
and they are the building blocks of the mystical union with God,
each transcendent, in their own right,
of reason, logic and laws

Pascal was right :

the human being is forced to an existential gamble
regarding the existence of God
regarding fundamental reality and
regarding redemption :

there is no way to know if God exists or not,
there is no way to know even how to know !
 
but i do not want to burn in hell forever  

   so i pray
   again

"LOST IN A KAFKAESQUE PRAGUE"

i am a suspension of reality
strung between
the nickel of the earth
and the argon of the sky

unable am i to move about freely

i float
more than i walk

i am a lucid dream
trapped in a fever dream

i am caught in a clutch !
the mighty spur of the bird
ascends me – we soar
above the Bohemian townland

i am the pure wish to understand
the humiliating failure to comprehend

i have no mouth yet i must scream

i have no ears
yet i still hear the sound of mad laughter

i perceive time differently

my needs are vampyric
and i make love to the moon

the boughs are burning beneath me
but who am i to care ?

i am rendered gelatinous, doomed to no form –
the final amorphous stages of human biology
is spent in humiliation

above the rustic skyline colors dance
above the earth's curvature
the shadowry of a hundred spires
of which i am one
scrape the integument of eternity

i wander about
lost like a dog
aloof like a cat
in Kafka's Prague
by twilight

"THE MARTIAN FOSSA"

     why is there a colossal Olmec head
     in this Martian fossa ?