The more sins you confess, the more books you will sell.
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So far, So good
Although I’m far from innocent
I have done things I now repent.
In self defence I must protest
I am no worse than all the rest
Whose sins have yet to come to light.
They still profess their innocence
Their sins well hidden out of sight
and yet feel free to take offence.
At peccadilloes I confess.
Which seems to me hypocrisy
as if somehow their sins are less
than those I confess openly.
Because they’re sure nobody knows.
Its human nature I suppose.
09/07/2009
http: // blog.myspace.com/poeticpiers
poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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Confessing Sins
when guilt is full
there comes a time when we think of
the possibility of confessing our sins,
the usual sins of omissions
more than our sins of commissions,
to a friend perhaps, but you doubt
for he has more sins than you have
and it might as well end
on the reverse, you the listening tree
and he the barking dog,
or perhaps to a religious group but
you shy away because of their number
and you might as well at the end be the
subject of their gossip
in town for a week or so,
and so you become a catholic again
on a Sunday before your parish priest
you kneel down and confess your sins,
and your dismay the priest says,
'
my son these are not sins anymore
under the new doctrines
with an ending, don't worry my boy
you'll do penance just the same
say three our fathers and three hail Mary's
and don't come back
your sins are the same as mine'
what comfort is this, when sins are confessed
to a person on the same misery and guilt as we are.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Confess your sins to the Lord and you will be forgiven; confess them to man and you will be laughed at.
quote by Josh Billings
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Lucky Sin
Luck reminds me of sin,
Sins collect from the odour.
A fortune fades, faces do fight,
How do we describe the sins?
The luck is like gambling, a soot
From the chimney of the home.
My sins concern me, like fire and ice,
They flop, flip and fold in a paper-form,
To write books of acts and messages,
That luck writes, that sins are simpler.
poem by Naveed Akram
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Going Out To Enjoy The Faces Of Nature
summer. do not sell me books
i have enough of books.
i am going for a swim
bringing my girl.
i will go naked then
up and down. we are going
diving, seeing not just corals
we go for black urchins and
electric eels.
we go bubbling and
taking deep breaths
upstream. you ask me why?
well, this is summer and i am
not reading books.
i will be kissing the beautiful
faces of nature.
and since this is summer
motherfucker, i must do it well.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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One, I have a wonderful publisher, Black Sparrow Press; as long as they exist, they will keep me in print. And they claim they sell very respectable numbers of my books, so I guess, and it's true, every place I go, my books are in libraries and on bookshelves.
quote by Diane Wakoski
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I Must Confess
Today I confess to you
one of my biggest fears
That you don’t feel the same as I do.
Today I confess to you
one of my greatest joys
For this feeling gives me great happiness.
Today I confess to you
my grandest accomplishment
To be able to have this feeling.
Today I must confess to you
That seeing you
Makes me feel complete.
Today I must confess to you
That your touch
Heals all my pain.
Today I must confess to you
what I feel is painful
And it makes it more grand.
Today I must confess to you
That no one shares
What my heart feels for you.
Today I must confess to you
My deepest feeling,
I love you!
poem by Maria Segura
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You Ask Me To Confess
bewildered about what's going on
outside your world
beyond those veils and curtains
you beg that i confess
what you see in me is what you really are,
and this you ask that
i must confess all my sins
so i can be saved
from what? my silence is asking.
as a friend there are matters to be reconsidered
saving my soul is never any other person's business
i even have to find a location for it when it wants to rest
my silence is a rock in the middle of the river's rage.
there is a black bird there that sings under the whiteness of the clouds
drinking every raindrop
that we do not expect to fall in the middle of a bright day
i need not confess
there are so many poems written and scattered everywhere
that i made
they have mouths and in the corners of the lonely nights
they all sing my own madness
both on sadness and joys,
they have said everything that you badly want to hear.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Fading Spirituality
They've wanted me to confess
my sins
to a man I did not know
yet I pondered as a child
which way shall I go
an alter boy
with a tad of an ego
confess my hurtful feelings
to a priest
whose seeds, I would not sow
through out the annals of time
the immoral, unjust, lied
while they cover up
their transgressions, they laughed and scoffed
while we cried
I now see clearly
there will indeed be weeping and
gnashing of teeth
to no avail
yet while I sit here
in an empty pew
parishioner-less
on a Sunday afternoon
still searching for truth indeed and
never seeing
the holy grail
poem by Matt Mondschein
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Better Than My Last
When will I put my pen to rest?
After I achieve my best written poem,
I guess.
And the next best one...
To satisfy that one as my best!
'But how will you know
Which one of those to decide as your best? '
I am not the one to decide,
Nor is my pride being tested
Or teased to enter contests to best!
I love what I do.
And I am flattered that I am read.
But my head is not swollen,
With thoughts to impress.
I am thankful to be grateful...
To realize I am blessed!
That alone brings me happiness!
And be read too?
What more can someone like me,
From gifts I have choose?
To sell millions of books?
To be in the hands of everyone?
Even those preparing meals to cook?
Okay!
But that alone wouldn't complete my day!
I'd still be looking for a better way,
To better best with something else to say!
In a way I have not said today.
If it is God's will to have it that way!
But I will confess...
I do have thoughts of having my 'next' one,
Better than my last...
Considered my very best yet!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Why does no one confess his sins Because he is yet in them. It is for a man who has awoke from sleep to tell his dreams.
Return Of The Rat
You better watch out
You better beware
Theyre coming from all sides of the country
You better beware
Return of the rat
No, no, no, no!
You better confess
You had better confess
You start to confess and see them through it
You better confess
Originally by greg sage and the wipers
song performed by by Nirvana
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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7 Deadly Sins
7 seven deadly sins
Thats how the world begins
Watch out when you step in
For seven deadly sins
Seven deadly sins
Thats when the fun begins
(seven deadly sins)
(sin number one) was when you left me
(sin number two) you said goodbye
(sin number three) was when you told me a little white lie
Seven deadly sins
Once it starts, it never ends (seven deadly sins)
Watch out aroung the bend (seven deadly sins)
A seven deadly sins (seven deadly sins)
(sin number four) was when you looked my way
(sin number five) was when you smiled
(sin number six) was when you let me stay
Sin number seven was when you touched me and told me why
Seven deadly sins
So many rules to bend
Time and time again
Seven deadly sins
Seven deadly sins
(seven deadly sins)
(seven deadly sins)
(seven deadly sins)
Seven deadly sins
Thats how the world begins (seven deadly sins)
Watch out when you step in (seven deadly sins)
For seven deadly sins
Seven (seven) seven (seven) seven (seven) seven (deadly sins)
song performed by by George Harrison
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Fixin
i've been thinking
we have pc for dummies books
dog training books for dummies
all kinds of fix-it-yourself ones
to assist us with lifes problems
that sell like star wars dolls
but where are the books
for extracting sorrow for dummies
or for the pain some people
seem to be addicted to
or how to turn a sad person
into one of those happy campers
i struggle with the fear of loss
of losing loved ones
or precious good health
not to mention loss of
reputation which is something
once lost is difficult to retain
written 12-23-05
poem by Faith Elizabeth Brigham
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Sins and pleasure
Pleasure of sins lures me to sin.
Sins of pleasure follow me in.
I sow sins to harvest pleasure
And sow pleasure to harvest sins.
Virtues might promise me pleasure
But it is sins that assure of it.
Sins are the food meant for senses.
Virtues are the food made of ego.
I do sins to derive pleasure
And then repent to cleanse my soul.
Virtues I stay with; sins I flirt with.
29.03.2007
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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Our Sins
Our sins are leading us away from the truth!
Our sins are causing all the troubles in this world,
Our sins are bringing about all these wars around us,
Our sins have torn us apart from love! !
And, we now hate each other in this world.
Glabal warming! !
And, it is all because of our sins;
Our sins have really destroyed everything around us.
Just watch the news!
Just listen to your neihbour!
Just look around you!
Just see how much hatred is being expressed among us!
Our sins have torn us apart from love.
Scenes, sins!
Of the scenes of life full of many troubles;
All in the name of our sins.
The Creator, whose Original Name is Yahweh,
Created us all with true love in many colours;
But, our sins have led us to hate each other on this earth.
Famine, disaster, sickness, accident, drought!
And all the global warming seen around us;
Are all caused by our sins because,
We failed to follow the Laws of Yahweh.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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There's no such thing as 'hard sell' and 'soft sell.' There's only 'smart sell' and 'stupid sell.'
quote by Leo Burnett
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Be Soul-Wise On This Special Day: 11/11/11
Build a church for God within your heart
Erase all stains of sins of past, present
Confess your sins and ask God to pardon
Atone for trespasses of every kind
Invoke God’s blessings and His grace
Welcome the Holy Spirit to reside
Renew your ties with God and Jesus Christ
Resolve to do good deeds and never sin
Decide to walk in heaven’s road always
Remind yourself to keep your soul pure
Recite the rosary to save sinners
poem by John Celes
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Books
The universe (which others call the library). . .
-Jorge Luis Borges
Books which are stitched up the center with coarse white thread
Books on the beach with sunglass-colored pages
Books about food with pictures of weeping grapefruits
Books about baking bread with browned corners
Books about long-haired Frenchmen with uncut pages
Books of erotic engravings with pages that stick
Books about inns whose stars have sputtered out
Books of illuminations surrounded by darkness
Books with blank pages & printed margins
Books with fanatical footnotes in no-point type
Books with book lice
Books with rice-paper pastings
Books with book fungus blooming over their pages
Books with pages of skin with flesh-colored bindings
Books by men in love with the letter O
Books which smell of earth whose pages turn
poem by Erica Jong
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Used Car Sales People
With the gift of the gab they would talk their way out of hell
These used car sales people they know how to sell
On their selling ability their jobs are at stake
The more cars they do sell the more commission they do make
On any deals they clinch they have never lost
And your trust on such people can come at a cost
The more cars they sell the more money they get paid
A hard job to succeed in the used car trade,
Shy and sensitive used car sales people one might say are rare
To sell one a car no effort they do spare
They have to sell cars or their boss them will fire
And other used car yard owners as car sales people them will not hire
The more cars they sell the greater is their pay
So to sell you a car they try every which way.
poem by Francis Duggan
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