For a house, somewhere near Los Angeles I found an old church. Very old, no longer used. So we moved the church to the land, and I took off the steeple, and I got my hands dirty.
quote by Douglas Sirk
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Sex & The Church
Though the idea of compassion
Is said to be
The union of christ
And his bride, the christian
Its all very puzzling
Sex and the church
Sex and the church
Sex and the church
And the church
And the church
All the great mystic religions
Put strong emphasis, on
Redeame this spiritual qualities
Of sex of sex
Chrstianity
Has been pretty modern
About sex
Of sex of sex of sex of sex
Sex and the church
Sex and the church
Sex and the church
Sex sex
I think there is a union
Between the flesh and the spirit
Its sex and the church
Sex and the church
All religions mother
Give me youre freedom of spirit
And the joys of the flesh
Of sex sex sex and the church
Give me youre freedom of spirit
And the joys of the flesh
Of sex sex sex and the church
Sex and the church
Sex and the church
Sex and the church
And the church
And the church
Sex sex
Sex and the church
Sex and the church
Sex and the church
Sex sex
Sex and the church
Sex and the church
Sex and the church
And the church
And the church
Sex sex
Sex and the church
Sex and the church
Sex and the church
Sex sex
Sex
Sex and the church
Sex and the church
Sex and the church
Sex sex
song performed by by David Bowie
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Searching For a Church?
After your long and weary search, have you found the perfect church?
A simple church ruled by men; the perfect church you can’t condemn.
Or do they all appear the same, just another building with His Name?
And once inside you’re not sure, if you feel the presence of The Lord.
There’s only one true Church of God, upon this earth that all men trod.
That is The Church of Jesus Christ, and bought by Jesus, with His life.
God’s Church has no denomination, for in Christ is only one Salvation.
His Church has no walls my friend; it has a beginning but has no end.
Christ’s Church began at Pentecost, not for the righteous, but the lost.
His Church is made of sinful men, whom by God were all condemned.
But redeemed with a special price, when His Son became a sacrifice.
Then dipped into a cleansing flood; sinners purified by Christ’s Blood.
Are you looking to men to find, God’s forgiveness and peace of mind?
My friend, are you truly not that sure, where you can go to be secure?
Christ’s first Church had no steeple, and was filled with humble people.
Humble people who gave their life, to reach the world for Jesus Christ.
If you’re still searching for a church, you should end your weary search.
The Church is men like you and me, saved by Christ’s work on Calvary.
Nothing’s been added to the cross, except sinners who once were lost,
Since, they’ve entered in The Door, and now belong to Christ The Lord.
(Copyright ©04/2006)
His True Church
I know many religious people, and one Church with no steeple,
A church that’s built with no walls, built on only believing souls,
Built upon an Eternal Foundation, that being our very Salvation,
Built upon The One Cornerstone, and that is Jesus Christ alone.
Many, who worship in a building, to Truth alone, are unyielding,
Building a church on tradition, God’s Truth, with man’s addition,
Added to the work finished by, Jesus Christ who reigns on high,
Ignoring His words “it is finished”, Grace by many is diminished.
Men making a way to Heaven, not by grace but religious leaven,
Building church in a human way, as they lead many souls astray,
As many souls weekly perch, in the pews of a manmade church,
Relying on their religious activity, to help them work into eternity.
“I will build my Church” He said, that was Christ, who is the Head,
Head of His True Church on earth, filled with souls, by New Birth,
All members being Born Again, into His Church, not one of men,
You’ll find, you no longer search, as a member of God’s Church.
Jesus is the Way, Truth and Life, as Head of the Church of Christ,
And each of us is a living stone, built through faith in Christ alone,
His Church He proceeds to build, to complete as His Father willed,
Leading the only True Church friend, as others shall see in the end.
Some Have Steeples. Some Don't
What do I think of church?
'Yes! '
Church?
Like in 'church' church?
'Yes! '
Well...
Some have steeples.
Some don't.
Some have people.
Some wont.
Some are religiously political.
And some are politically religious.
My vehicle is my church.
And that's all I care about.
'Oh?
So your 'car' is your church? '
Oh.
No no!
My 'body' is my church.
It is my sanctuary.
Now...
Keep in mind,
I am not devoted to keep it as pure,
As it should be.
But I do the best I can,
Not to be led away by temptation.
But everyday I pray to be forgiven,
Of those 'sins' I know I should not enjoy!
However...
You can find me anytime,
Self righteously defending...
My point of view.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Church Of Women
A lie for a lie, but a truth for the truth
Church of women is made out of milk
Which their love turns to butter -er -er
Church of women will have you give praise
With a laugh, bark and stutter -er -er
Like us men like us men they are nothing like us men
Men have gargoyles round their hearts
Im on my knees but dancing
Want to worship at the church of women
Breathe em in until my head goes spinning around
Want to worship at the church
Let me worship at the church of women
Church of women is making donations of loving and giving -ing -ing
Church of women performing that miracle raising the living -ing -ing
Like us men like us men will they ever like us men?
Men have thorns around their minds
Im on my mountain preaching
Want to worship at the church of women
Breathe em in until my head goes spinning around
Want to worship at the church
Let me worship at the church of women
Lie for a lie, but a truth for the truth
Give em back their house: the walls, the doors, the floors and roof
And stop tryin to diet on the wafers and wine and submit were in control
Now lets put things right
Lets multiply the loves and kisses
til we have enough to love and eat forever
Want to worship at the church of women
I want to worship at the church of women now
Breathe em in until my head goes spinning around
Ill breathe em in until my head goes spinning round
Want to worship at the church
Let me worship at the church of women
Want to worship at the church of women
(repeat x3 and fade)
song performed by by Xtc
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Village Green
Out in the country,
Far from all the soot and noise of the city,
Theres a village green.
Its been a long time
Since I last set eyes on the church with the steeple
Down by the village green.
twas there I met a girl called daisy
And kissed her by the old oak tree.
Although I loved my daisy, I saw fame,
And so I left the village green.
I miss the village green,
And all the simple people.
I miss the village green,
The church, the clock, the steeple.
I miss the morning dew, fresh air and sunday school.
And now all the houses
Are rare antiquities.
American tourists flock to see the village green.
They snap their photographs and say gawd darn it,
Isnt it a pretty scene?
And daisys married tom the grocer boy,
And now he owns a grocery.
I miss the village green,
And all the simple people.
I miss the village green,
The church, the clock, the steeple.
I miss the morning dew, fresh air and sunday school.
And I will return there,
And Ill and daisy,
And well sip tea, laugh,
And talk about the village green.
We will laugh and talk about the village green.
song performed by by Kinks
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Church Not Made With Hands
Bye-bye shadowlands
The term is over
And all the holidays have begun
Now she walks in fresh fields
Her tracks are on the land
She is everywhere and no place
When its dark and evening falls
She moves among men
They would seek to have her as a prize
But she is in the shadows
The ocean and the sand
She is everywhere and no place
Her church not made with hands
Not contained by man
She is dancing high as clouds
Faster than the arrow
As straight as any crows that flies
Accross great seas she travels
Up through rising lands
She is everywhere and no place
Her church not made with hands
Not contained by man
Isnt that a pretty sun
Setting in a pretty sky?
Will we stay and watch it darken?
Will we stay and watch it darken?
The church not made by hands
Not contained by man
That precious place
Unmade by man
song performed by by Waterboys
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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That Old Woman That I Know....
the old woman
goes to church everyday
reads her novena, spends more time in church
than in the house
she is close to the parish priest
gives sums of money to the
religious activities
noted for charity and
enjoys many indulgences
from the Pope
always she is dressed in the proper
whiteness
her head covered by
the required embroidery
her movement restrained
her poise reserved
holy and
silent
what they do not know
(and this is her secret that i have discovered)
is that
just this morning she slapped her maid
because her coffee was served
and no longer that hot
to satisfy her
cold longings
exactly the opposite of what she is
in society
this old woman takes away the faith of
the maid
from the same God that she adores
in her Sunday church.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Not far from our house, and opposite the old church with the golden cross, stood a large building, even larger than the church, and having many towers.
quote by Max Muller
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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God Is A DJ (Edit)
This is my church
This is where I heal my hurts
It's a natural grace
Of watching young life shape
It's in minor keys
Solutions and remedies
Enemies becoming friends
When bitterness ends
This is my church (x3)
This is my church
This is where I heal my hurts
It's in the world I become
Contained in the hum
Between voice and drum
It's in the change
The poetic justice of cause and effect
Respect, love, compassion
This is my church
This is where I heal my hurts
For tonight
God is a DJ
God is a DJ
This is my church (x3
song performed by by Faithless
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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What Do You Call it?
What do you call it, when you have a disability,
And once your were at a church, and now you're not;
But no one from the church comes but say excuse me,
I cannot be there, I no longer can cope, did I put them in a spot?
What do you call it, is it an excuse, or am I contagious at all?
If your in a wheelchair, Being in a church my problem is small;
Why can't look past the chair, and see my need, today,
Even a phone call would help, but their heart says no way.
What do they call it, If some one is not so very well,
And can't get to church, pain is bad, they won't hear when I tell;
That I need fellowship from folks, so I don't shrink,
But they don't listen, their brains just don't think.
What does God call it, to leave a Christian alone,
That isn't very well, and yet, no one will ring on the phone;
I thought the Lord taught us, think of others first,
And when one is unwell, they shouldn't allow their bubble to burst.
Please Lord! Help me to have fellowship in some way,
When I can't get to church, they'd come some day;
It hurts to be left, with no calls, cards, or visitors as well,
Please Lord, make them think, to make my phone to bell.
poem by Margaret Haig
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Church is great, but I found my church here. Hugh Hefner has been nothing but a gentleman.
quote by Jessica Hahn
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I Wonder
They steal ans still go to church,
They kill and still go to church,
They destroy and still go to church,
And i sit down and wonder why;
But, who are they worshipping?
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Echoes Breathe Deep {Rondeau Poetic Format}
Echoes breathe deep in Church steeples,
Chilled toll of chimes from Cathedral's,
Chords of Love, The Passion...and Death;
Funeral's hold the deepest breath,
O'er heads of it's grieving people.
Incense stings the eye's like needles,
Smoked heat dances 'round the steeple,
the starched March of Death, agrieving
Echoes breathe deep.
'Side the Church mourners sit, weeping
From the heat of the Cathedral;
August Masses tend to steal breath,
Leave a hollow sense of bereft,
Still there be breath from the steeple;
Echoes breathe deep.
poem by Frank James Ryan Jr.
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Doctor for the sick
Obsessed with their church
Looking after its masses only
Masses for their church only
Who looks after the sick?
Obsessed with the glamour
No room for the poor congregation
Looks like a house of intimidation
Although a house for the sick
Looks like some people are forgotten
Although a house for everyone
Where are the ambulances?
To fetch the sick in abundance
Obsession like sand in our eyes
Trouble disease on the out break
The sick are denied medication
Why not run spirit tests for everyone?
Maybe the virus runs amongst
The doctor, the nurse, the pharmacist…
Doctor for the sick indeed
Accidents do happen unfortunately
Victims must be brought in hopefully
Weak people must be urged to eat
True word, the only immune booster.
***The Book of End of Times
poem by Young Church
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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A revival does two things. First, it returns the Church from her backsliding and second, it causes the conversion of men and women; and it always includes the conviction of sin on the part of the Church. What a spell the devil seems to cast over the Church today!
quote by Billy Sunday
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Church Of Your Heart
Cant we leave the world outside
Just for a while? just for a while?
Spend some time, you and i
Under this bright glorious sky
Its been so long since I first saw you
But I still love that smile in your eyes
Yes its true, right from the start
I believed in the church of your heart
Yes its you, that make me part of
And I believe in the church of your heart
Step inside, lay yourself down
Just for a while, rest for a while
I can hear a thundering sound
Beating inside when youre around
Its been so long since I first met you
Since we made love, you know how time flies
Yes its true, right from the start
I believed in the church of your heart
Yes its you that make me be part of
And I believe in the church of your heart
In the church of your heart
Yes its true, right from the start
I believed in the church of your heart
Yes its you that make me be part of
And I believe in the church of your heart
Pretty baby its true, right from the start
I believed in the church of your heart
Yes its you that make me be part of
And I believe in the church of your heart
In the church of your heart
song performed by by Roxette
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Los Angeles
City of glam, city of crime
People are fake, you're no friend of mine
Club fights, dancing through the night
We're kids living the dream under the lights
We're in Los Angeles
Dancing through the night in Los Angeles
Hollywood trash in Los Angeles
Being ourselves in Los Angeles
Never losing Los Angeles
City of High, city of low
Selling drugs, we're losing our souls
Walking the strip with one goal
We're gonna live our dream, no one can stop us all
We're in Los Angeles
Dancing through the night in Los Angeles
Hollywood trash in Los Angeles
Being ourselves in Los Angeles
Never losing Los Angeles
Girls in my world
Music in my ears
Pain in my tears
Rock in my veins
Nothing in my brain
I think i'm going insane
That's all i need in Los Angeles
We're in Los Angeles
Dancing through the night in Los Angeles
Hollywood trash in Los Angeles
Being ourselves in Los Angeles
Never losing Los Angeles
We're in Los Angeles
Dancing through the night in Los Angeles
Hollywood trash in Los Angeles
Being ourselves in Los Angeles
Never losing Los Angeles
poem by by unknown author
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Lydia Humphrey
Back and forth, back and forth, to and from the church,
With my Bible under my arm
Till I was gray and old;
Unwedded, alone in the world,
Finding brothers and sisters in the congregation,
And children in the church.
I know they laughed and thought me queer.
I knew of the eagle souls that flew high in the sunlight,
Above the spire of the church, and laughed at the church,
Disdaining me, not seeing me.
But if the high air was sweet to them, sweet was the church to me.
It was the vision, vision, vision of the poets
Democratized!
poem by Edgar Lee Masters
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Church Is Built On Bloody Bones
The church is built on bloody bones,
Broken martyrs, burning homes;
The church is built on bloody bones-
Not singing angels, golden thrones.
The church is built on murder, rage,
Plunder, anger and pillage;
The church is built on murder, rage-
There's no escaping murders wage.
The church you choose informs your soul,
If you're shattered, if you're whole;
The church you choose informs your soul-
So be sure it's worthy goal.
poem by Patti Masterman
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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