Ballad Of Dodgy Dave The Preacher Man (A Spoof Of Me)
He stood tall and strong
with a Bible in one hand
and a fist of iron as the other.
No one cusses during his sermons
or fell asleep there.
Fire and brimstone
was the way he spoke
and everyone listened.
He took an unruly congregation
and made them toe the line.
While they were in God’s house,
his words were their command.
He knew who the sinners were
and he would eye them out.
Once his gaze was on you,
the only one thing you could do
and that was repent your sins.
His name now lingers
on the tongues of men and women.
He has become a legend in his own time.
The Preacher with fire and brimstone on his mind.
He dresses in black
and says it comes with the territory.
A big brass cross hangs on his chest.
That’s there to deflect the bullets
when he walks down the street.
He can be as ornery as a bobcat
and gentle as a lamb.
This tall Preacher man
aptly named Dodgy Dave.
11-14 February 2008
poem by David Harris
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
Preacher Boy
Jeanne burns / billie holiday
He was lanky and tall as a beanpole
And he wind fanned my heart to a flame
As he looked to the sky
And theres no wonder why
For preacher boy was his name
With his old yaller dog there beside him
And his eyes throwin sparks in the sun
I grew faint from the heat
From my heart to my feet
When I knew preacher boy was the one
Then he didnt say much
Hes the silent kind
But his arms were strong
Just the same as his mind
And my knees grew weak
As I clung to him
My preacher boy, my preacher boy
But he heard the call
Now hes left me
For his faith was stronger than i
And thought we are apart
Yet hes still in my heart
My preacher boy, my preacher boy
My wonderful preacher boy
song performed by by Billie Holiday
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Revolution
Revelation reveals the truth - revelation.
(revolution, revolution, revolution - oooo-doo-doo-doo-doo)
(revolution - oooo-doo-doo-doo-doo)
It takes a revolution (revolution) to make a solution;
(doo-doo-doo-doo)
Too much confusion (aaa-aaah), so much frustration, eh!
I dont wanna live in the park (live in the park);
Cant trust no shadows after dark (shadows after dark), yeah-eh!
So, my friend, I wish that you could see,
Like a bird in the tree, the prisoners must be free, yeah! (free)
Never make a politician (aaa-aaah) grant you a favour;
(doo-doo-doo-doo)
They will always want (aaa-aaah) to control you forever, eh!
(forever, forever)
So if a fire make it burn (make it burn, make it burn)
And if a blood make ya run (make ya run, run, run),
Rasta de pon top (aaa-aaah), cant you see? (doo-doo-doo-doo)
So you cant predict the flop. eh-eh! (doo-doo-doo-doo)
We got lightning (lightning), thunder (thunder),
Brimstone (brimstone) and fire - fire (fire, fire);
Lightning (lightning), thunder (thunder),
Brr-brimstone (brimstone) and fire - fiyah - fire - fiyah!
(fire, fire)
Kill, cramp and paralyze all weak at conception;
(aaa-aaah, doo-doo-doo-doo)
Wipe them out of creation (creation), yeah-eah! (creation)
Wa-jah, jah, jah! wa-jah, jah, jah! (creation)
Wa-jah, jah, jah! (creation)
Oh! let ies is ies (ies), in ies is black (ies),
In ies is red (ies), in ies is dread.
Let righteousness cover the earth
Like the water (aaa-aaah) cover the sea, yeah! yeah!
Lightning (lightning), doo-doo-doo (thunder),
Doo-doo-doo (brimstone), doo-doo-doo (fire, fire);
A lightning (lightning), thunder (thunder),
Brimstone (brimstone) and fire.
song performed by by Bob Marley
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Sheriff's County Line
In a place called Sheriff's County
There's a story goin' round
And it echoes through the swamps of FLA
About the sheriff and his daughter
That he guarded with his life
With a shotgun just to keep those wolves at bay
But she was a fire beyond control
No chains could hold her captive soul
Now the legend grows as days unwind
About passions strong and justice blind
To the reckless deeds that hide behind
The Sheriff's County Line
Now the sheriff had a deputy that he treated like a son
But he warned Calhoun not to see Estelle
'Cause he knew that she was trouble
Had her mama's wild side
And if he slipped he'd make his life a living hell
But flesh is weak and passion's strong
There in the backwoods around dawn
They say it was a murder in the first degree
When the sheriff caught them in the heat
Just one shot killed the deputy
On the Sheriff's County Line
One step closer to midnight
Sittin' there just waitin' to die
The young preacher asks if he's ready
To make his peace and speak his mind
He said Blood is thicker than water
And my temper must've got out of hand
And just before they threw the switch on Old Sparky
He said I'd do it all over, Do it all over again
Now Estelle is softly crying at the foot of her daddy's grave
As the preacher reads the bible verse out loud
You could see her eyes a wanderin'
As he turns another page
And she pulls him ever gently from the crowd
She tells him,
Oh she feels so all alone
And begs him to walk her safely home
And the madness starts all over again
Calhoun's curse is the preacher's end
Cause the forbidden fruit is the sweetest sin
On the Sheriff's County Line
song performed by by 38 Special
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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(Dodgy Dave Tale) Plastic Flowers
(Dodgy Dave Tale) Plastic Flowers
This is another Dodgy Dave Tale that goes out
To all the romantics that have their doubts
See Dodgy states he is unromantically inclined
That could leave poor Vera maligned
(Vera his wife that this story is behind)
You see when your in love with a man
Women expect romantic gifts not just a hand
And Vera felt a little slighted here
Because it was flowers she lacked from her dear
So one day his wife and Dodgy Dave
Went out on the town not to misbehave
They decided to go to a Car Boot Sale
(Don't ask me what that is Dave knows that tale)
As they were walking along that day
Dodgy Dave came upon a plastic flower bouquet
Well he picked the thing up
And thought to himself...what luck
Now I have flowers to give to my gal
And she will think of me as her romantic pal
The moral of this silly story here
Is if you want to be unromantically clear
Give your loved one plastic flowers instead
And in return for your supper expect water and brown bread
28 Jan 2008
The Big Cross
My cross is big and golden
and blinds any gunman
who comes after the preacher
with a gun.
I polish it brightly
so it reflects the sun
and blinds any demons
that might be lurking around.
The big cross is the trademark you see
of Dodgy Dave the vicar - me.
16 April 2009
poem by David Harris
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Mysterious Girl
There is a girl
With long black hair
With her big grey eyes
People can’t help but stare
Her beauty leaves a trace
Every time she walks by
She’s filled with magnificence
Such splendor you cannot deny
With her tall and fit body
She can blow fire off
As she walks past a crowd
Others can’t help but scoff
Her loveliness is admired by everyone
But her charm is envious by most women
By the way she dresses and walks
Her features are adored and gleamin’
Everything about her is stunning
She’s every girl and woman’s wanna be
Yet people did not know
That that girl with long black hair
And big grey eyes
Is me...
poem by Marria Attar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Preacher Can't Spell
this is for you, David Harris (LOL)
Have you ever heard of a preacher
who cannot spell?
never heard? oh, yes, i do..he he
were you able to read his notes for his sermons
and the words just scrambled
and the spelling is bad..oh, bad...
nahhh, i have noticed it..LOL
he went to school to learn
how to read and write
and guess what..spell the words right!
still, he can't spell it, his lips so tight
he seeped all the ink in his pen
he told me, that's why
and the pencil, he bite with all his might
see? what a beautiful sight.
his other excuse why he can't spell
is that his false teeth keep falling out
while typing...hmmmmm
and he cannot catch his teeth
and type straight at the same time.. (ok, , noted..he he)
But we love to hang around with this preachewr (preacher!)
Never mind if we will not be able to spell neither
What is important is the substance of his words
Words to live by, words to ponder why
Just love this Preacher, even if he cannot spell.
He is after all...the name that rings a bell....
Thank you for lafing..ehe..laughing...
at least.i made you smile even for a second..rihyt? LOL
And of course, with permayshoon from the prachry, David Harris.(ssshhh)
poem by Meggie Gultiano
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Preacher Needs More Ram
I took the modem off the podium...
Just before the preacher sneezed!
I asked a doctor in a pew...
If the sneeze would spread disease?
And Doctor Blye looked in my eyes,
As if I was there for church.
I looked him up and down and said,
'I am here doing research! '
I came to hook the preacher up,
To a new connection!
He wanted all his emails sent...
And downloaded to the chatrooms.
I came to hook the PC up for online sessions!
But the preacher is displeased...
'Cause the modem seems to need,
More ram!
I'm in the house of the Lord,
And the preacher needs more ram!
I hear the people pat their feet,
When the preacher's sermon's heated!
I'm in the house of the Lord,
And the preacher needs more ram!
Oh Lord...
What do I do with the modem?
I'm in the house of the Lord,
And the preacher needs more ram!
I hear the people pat their feet,
When the preacher's sermon's heated!
I'm in the house of the Lord,
And the preacher needs more ram!
Oh Lord...
What do I do with the modem?
I came to hook the preacher up,
To a new connection!
He wanted all his emails sent...
And downloaded to the chatrooms.
I came to hook the PC up for online sessions!
But the preacher is displeased...
'Cause the modem seems to need,
More ram!
oh Oh OHHH....
I'm in the house of the Lord,
And the preacher needs more ram!
I hear the people pat their feet...
When the preacher's sermon's heated!
I'm in the house of the Lord,
And the preacher needs more ram!
Oh Lord...
What do I do with the modem?
Ahhhhaaaayyy
I'm in the house of the Lord,
And the preacher needs more ram!
I hear the people pat their feet,
When the preacher's sermon's heated!
I'm in the house of the Lord,
And the preacher needs more ram!
Oh Lord...
What do I do with the modem?
Oh Lord...
What do I do with the modem?
Oh Lord...
What do I do with the modem?
Oh Lord...
What do I do with the modem?
What do I do with the modem?
What do I do with the modem?
What do I do with the modem?
'Reverand Heath?
I recommend a live video hookup as well!
I think you will touch a lot of people.
I found myself 'slightly' involved.'
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Juana's Sestina
October came like a bandit who stole
every prayer saved in our afternoons of grief,
beside her empty bed and crucifix
where she once joked, holding her Bible,
of Christ lighting Judas's ass on fire.
They were friends now and she had been invited
to see this, as told in my dream, invited
me, but mother woke me before Death stole
me, almost gone into the sinner's fire.
But Grandmother Juana gone this October grief
would have saved me I know with her Bible
near bed, radio sermon and crucifix,
Would have joked of how she snuck the crucifix
away from church friends she hadn't invited,
to exchange gossip as they kissed her Bible,
the way words caress bloody Death who stole
our every prayer saved in our afternoons of grief,
laughing aloud of that dreamy fire,
that brash tail of a kite, high and afire,
and hovering above like a crucifix,
its childlike frame torn in the wind of grief:
how she flew and how we fly, she invited
me above our house one October that stole
our love, investing it into her Bible
that loves no blashphemy for the Bible
adores least those living in the Lake of Fire.
October came like a bandit who stole
Mami, our Juana, leaving her crucifix,
together in a dream where she invited
me to the sky where rain fell hard like grief.
And I awoke secretly with this grief
Kept like a tomb in my chest for her Bible,
our rosaries, yet she wanted me invited
to see Christ lighting Judas's ass on fire,
a party where they carry a crucifix
every October for sinners who stole,
including Death, who took her into that fire
to burn her small sins before Heaven invited
her, that eloquent joker, dead this October.
poem by Marina Gipps
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Rose Across The Sea
For My Good Friend JoAnn McGrath
Not so long ago I was joking
with a young lady across sea.
I told her that I was a vicar,
or at least pretend one.
My name was Dodgy Dave the Vicar.
A little while later
she wrote a poem aptly named,
The Vicar Is Quicker.
Since then she has written
quite a number more.
I tell her a funny story about me.
No sooner do I tell her the story
it appear as a Dodgy Dave Poetry.
In the time I have known her
not once have, I wrote a poem for her,
that rose across the sea.
She thinks of me as her big brother.
I find that as a compliment you see,
as my own real sister
does not want to know me.
Therefore, I have an adopted one
far away from me,
a rose across the sea.
Therefore, Joann
this poem is just for you,
from your friend,
that Dodgy quicker vicar
who rhymes with liquor.
A substance he never touches,
but I will raise my cup of tea
and say again,
this poem is just for you,
my rose across the sea.
poem by David Harris
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Burnin Fire
Well she struck like lightning
Sent the blood rushing to my head
And she was so exciting
I took a walk I didnt have to be led
* and I had my highlights, I had it all
I thought that life was my crystal ball
Now theres a highway running
She drove a truck right through my life
** I jumped in to the burnin fire
Led by lust and my desire
I jumped in to the burnin fire
Led by lust my desire
Well I was born a preacher
Fire and brimstone Im a baptist man
She was gods own creature
What she didnt know you wouldnt understand now
* repeat
** repeat
[instrumental]
Well she skipped across the floor
And she looked so fine
With her hair flowing back
I thought she was mine
I dreamed on in my own head
Now lord I wish I was dead
** repeat
** repeat
I jumped in, I jumped in
To the burnin fire
And you dont win
I jumped in, I jumped in
To the burnin fire
And you dont win
** repeat and fade out
song performed by by Ufo
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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How I Became Known As Dodgy Dave
From time to time people ask me
how I got the name Dodgy Dave
and why I take no offence at it.
The story starts about six or seven years ago
when I joined a Western Re-Enactment Society.
I went to help build a western town
that eventually became know as Deadwood.
As the date for near completion came
the only building left to be finished was the Church.
The original builders had left it only half built.
The owner of the farm
on which the town is built
wanted it finished for our grand opening day.
Someone suggested that because of all the help,
I had given, why I don’t take it on
and they would help me finish it,
but I needed a town name
that would go along with the building,
I thought for a moment and then said
what about Reverend Mr Black
after the old Kingston Trio song.
So for a couple of years
I became known as Rev. Mr Black.
Two of my friends Buck and Caroline
(better know to one and all as Caz)
were planning their wedding.
They were going to have an official ceremony
on the Friday and on the Saturday;
they were to have another wedding in the town.
They asked if I would marry them in the town ceremony.
I told them I would be honoured.
Caz then went around telling everyone,
family and friends
that Dodgy Dave the vicar was going to marry them,
but he isn’t dodgy,
it’s just my pet name for him.
Soon everybody started calling me Dodgy Dave.
However, with every nice story
somehow sadness always intervenes.
Six weeks before their wedding,
this pretty woman who had renamed me Dodgy Dave
died at the tender age of thirty.
We held a wake for her in the town
on the day she and Buck were to marry.
It was a sad affair,
but her memory remains with me
every time someone calls me Dodgy Dave.
There are so many memories attached to that name.
It was never given out of malice,
but out of friendship sincere.
Now the name Dodgy Dave
has become very dear to me.
I use it all the time,
because when I do it reminds me
of the young woman with fair hair
whose friendship I treasured so
and I never want to let the memory of her go.
So there you have it
the story behind the christening
of me to Dodgy Dave
11 March 2008
poem by David Harris
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Hellfire & Reuben Rose
A hundred and thirty years has passed
Since Reuben strode our turf,
A Hell-fire Methodist Preacher
Cursing souls with every breath,
He claimed an exclusive license, sanctioned
By our gracious Lord,
To dispense both sulphur and brimstone
To the sinners of the world.
At Moonta, in the mining days,
When copper ruled as king,
A fluctuation in the price
Soon ruined everything.
Families left in droves; for jobs
Were harder then to find,
The congregations withered,
They were the few that stayed behind.
There wasn't enough to pay the fund
To keep their minister,
So he took off to Castlemaine
To save Victoria,
And when the Primitive Methodists
Declined to send another,
All Hell broke loose at the altar then,
Set brother against brother.
Enraged at the Executive
For showing them such contempt,
Half of the congregation said:
'We'll fix their argument!
We'll just secede from the Primitives
And run our own affairs.'
But Reuben Rose was a Primitive,
Who had his own ideas.
'Who owns the Church, ' he sagely said,
'The age-old Primitives! '
'Not so, ' declared the rebels, then,
'We paid for it with our tithes! '
But neither side would give an inch,
They claimed it, theirs alone,
Two armies of the Lord lined up
To seize the good lord's throne.
And so it was that, Sunday noon,
The rebels got there first,
They sang a lot of Sankey's hymns
To scorn the Primitive's verse,
They raised their voices mightily
And damn near raised the roof,
The Lord was on their side, they said
To the others, in reproof.
The Primitives stood there at the back,
And thought to rush the font,
A thrust along the centre aisle
A rush around the flank,
But Reuben Rose stood still and grim
His eyes as black as sin,
The veins along his forehead popped
Like corn in the summertime.
He waited 'til the evening prayer
And reached the altar first,
Secured it for the Primitive's
Against a greater force.
The earth seemed then to open up
To fill men's eyes and bones
With the stink of the smell of sulphur
And a tisane of old brimstone.
The rebels seized the chapel gate,
Locked it against the foe,
The Primitives went around the side,
Took an iron bar to the door,
Reuben Rose picked up a stone,
And held it up on high,
Then burst the lock on the chapel door,
Left the rebels high and dry.
The people from the mine soon heard
The threats no Lord forgives,
Then marched up there in a body to
Eject the Primitives,
'The battle's not yet over, '
Reuben Rose was heard to shout,
'You may be one with the devil,
But you never will lock us out! '
It came to Bloody Monday, when
The Primitives took hold,
Assaulted the chapel building
In the morning, gained control.
But soon retaliation was
The order of the day,
The rebels beat the victors off,
The rebels soon held sway.
They nailed up the windows and
They boarded up the doors,
They made a mighty fortress of
The chapel of the Lord,
And so in pure frustration, when
The Primitives saw black,
They marched to the one time minister,
Demanded his furniture back.
A crowd of angry women soon,
They marched there, hobble-hob,
They'd had their fill of Primitives,
And Reuben Rose's mob,
Each woman carried the sweeping broom
That lay about her house,
To sweep the Primitive Methodists
Away from East Moonta South.
The seeds of time have swallowed
Reuben Rose, and all his clan,
The church, it lies in rubble,
All in one with the works of man.
But if you listen carefully,
Right next to the pile of lime,
You'll hear the veins of his forehead,
Pop like corn in the summertime.
(And somewhere up in heaven
By the side of the Pearly Gates,
The Primitives are waiting,
Over a hundred years too late.
The rebels are inside, cosy, while
Old Reuben is heard to shout:
'You may be one with the devil,
But you never will lock us out!)
20 July 2008
poem by David Lewis Paget
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Lie Of All Lies
SOME YOUNG LADS SAT CHATTING MERRILY AND NOISILY WHEN A REVEREND PREACHER WALKED BY AND HE SAID TO THEM, WHAT BE THE CAUSE FOR THY NOISY CHATTER? HE ASKED AND THE CHILDREN REPLIED SAYING, PREACHER, WE HAVE PUT UP OUR SAVINGS FOR A WAGER! HE AMONGST US WHO TELLS THE GREATEST LIE WILL WIN THE WHOLE MONEY! THE PREACHER FROWNED AND SAID, LISTEN BOYS! IT IS NOT A GOOD THING TO TELL LIES! TAKE ME AS AN EXAMPLE! I HAVE NEVER TOLD A LIE IN MY ENTIRE LIFE! STATED THE PREACHER! AND THE BOYS QUICKLY GOT UP, PACKED UP THE COINS ON THE FLOOR AND HANDED IT TO THE PREACHER SAYING, YOU WIN SIR! YOURS WAS THE BIGGEST LIE WE HAVE EVER HEARD!
poem by Overlord Don Manuel Ihcakeyno
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Son Of A Preacher Man
(john hurley / ronnie wilkins)
Billy-ray was a preachers son
And when his daddy would visit hed come along
When they gathered round and started talkin
Thats when billy would take me walkin
A-through the back yard wed go walkin
Then hed look into my eyes
Lord knows to my surprise
The only one who could ever reach me
Was the son of a preacher man
The only boy who could ever teach me
Was the son of a preacher man
Yes he was, he was, mmm, yes he was
Being good isnt always easy
No matter how hard I try
When he started sweet-talkin to me
Hed come and tell me everything is all right
Hed kiss and tell me everything is all right
Can I get away again tonight?
The only one who could ever reach me
Was the son of a preacher man
The only boy who could ever teach me
Was the son of a preacher man
Yes he was, he was, lord knows he was
How well I remember
The look that was in his eyes
Stealin kisses from me on the sly
Takin time to make time
Tellin me that hes all mine
Learnin from each others knowing
Lookin to see how much weve grown
And the only one who could ever reach me
Was the son of a preacher man
The only boy who could ever teach me
Was the son of a preacher man
Yes he was, he was, oh, yes he was
He was the sweet-talking son of a preacher man
I guessed he was the son of a preacher man
Sweet-lovin son of a preacher man
Ahh, move me
song performed by by Dusty Springfield
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Daddy Was An Old Time Preacher Man
(Dolly Parton)
Daddy was an old time preacher man
He preacher the word of God throughout the land
He preached so plain a child could understand
Yes, Daddy was an old time preacher man
He told the people of he need to pray
He talked about God's wrath and judgement day
He preached about the great eternity
He preached hell so hot that you could feel the heat
Yes, Daddy was an old time preacher man
Aunt Leanona would get up to testify
And we'd sing "In The Sweet By And By"
The we'd sing "I'm On My Way To Canaan Land"
Yes, Daddy was an old time preacher man
Revivals and camp meetings went for weeks
Folks came from all around to hear him preach
Daddy said if one is saved it's worth it all
But the aisles were always filled at altar calls
Yes, Daddy was an old time preacher man
Daddy worked for God but asked for no pay
For he believed that God provides a way
We never had a lot but we got by
Guess it's 'cause the Lord was on Daddy's side
Yes, Daddy was an old time preacher man
song performed by by Dolly Parton
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Who Was This Man?
01/05/11
They didn’t know where he came from
No information could be found.
He just arrived - in the poor part of town.
They said he would appear when someone
Needed a hand, it was something
they could not understand.
Now! People’s faith was failing and
Everything seemed to be going wrong
But he would lift them up and
Encouraged them to be strong.
He was a bit different from
the others in the town.
Always with a hood, and had it pulled down.
The church was losing parishioners
And they had for quite some time.
Their faith was strong, but their minds were blind.
They needed something to touch the heart of man
Something that- could give a helping hand.
As the clergy thought about how
and what they could do.
This hooded man was looking for something too.
There was a family of eight who was
Being given a dispossess, he had to help them out
He knew he could not rest.
Parents with six children and not a bite to eat
To them a bag of potato chips, was really quite a treat.
He printed up circulars telling of their plight.
Asking the community to stand up and fight.
He created a meeting at the neighborhood church
He knew that it would get better
For it could not get much worse.
The church had not known of this meeting
When the people started to arrive.
This was the first time that people had to wait in line.
The preacher asked a parishioner:
What is this all about?
She then showed him the circular of this family s plight.
He then had a strange feeling, and his heart jumped with delight.
His prayers were being answered in a strange and blessed way.
He fell to his knees and he began to pray.
The people filled up the donation boxes
Until they overflowed, he had to call for some help
For it was a heavy load.
From the corner of his eye- he saw a figure
Blocking the entrance door,
And with a hood pulled down low.
It was a strange sight- it truly was a show.
He walked down the aisle to the preacher man
Looked up - then shook his hand.
He turned to the congregation and said:
HAVE FAITH IN ALL YOU DO
YOU CALLED OUT MY NAME AND I’VE
COME TO HELP YOU.
He took off his hood and just an aura of light was there
Then he vanished as quick as he appeared.
WHO WAS THIS MAN?
poem by Louis Rams
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Speaking Against ‘Da Vinci Code’ -2
So mean, some try demeaning Christ –
The Son of God, the Almighty;
They know His birth was one divine,
From Virgin Mary, by God’s word!
The Lamb of God was sacrificed
For sins of mankind, on the cross;
The Son of God became a man,
To just fulfill His Father’s wish.
Yes, Jesus knew the Scriptures well;
He had two natures – man and God,
Like two faces of any coin;
As man, he was fully a man!
‘The Son of God could forgive sins’
- The words of Jesus Christ Himself;
Like God, He loved the sinner who
Confessed his sins and made amends.
Christ chose twelve men as Apostles;
May be, some women heard his talks;
Christ won over satan’s designs,
When latter tempted him, at last.
The sinless man called Jesus Christ
Defeated satan, once for all;
And when He rose from death, third day,
He showed his pow’r divine to world.
To mar his name by saying that
Jesus was married, had a son –
Amounts to blasphemy and Lie:
A sin, His Father won’t forgive.
‘Beware you liars of God’s word! ’
Lord Jesus Christ will come again
In glory, as Judge of mankind:
Ask forgiveness, repent for sins!
Copyright by Dr John Celes 5-14-2008
poem by John Celes
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Holy Roller
-Copyrighted & registed 2008 ASCAP Music/Austin-Tatious Music-(Preach-2-the-Preachers Ministries)
Dedicated to those who worship the numbers, money, influence, affluence, and holier-than-thou pragmatism that modern churches & mega-churches have eroded to.
The Holy Roller
Hey Holy-Roller, you're just too funny;
How you give that church, mountains of money.
Preacher gets money, lives high on the hog;
Feeds Filet Mignon, to his weenie-dog!
Church says 'Good Holy, gets stars in his crown; '
But, he still ignores, the homeless downtown!
He knows that bible, quotes it all the time,
Church grows richer but, they can't spare a dime!
Church got pearly gate, and a golden street,
Children face winter, in their cold, bare-feet.
Preacher's new Hummer, is So-Very-Fine,
Bag-Lady stands in, the soup-kitchen line.
That Holy-Roller, looks up t'ward the sky;
His eyes on the prize, he can't wait to die.
Saved and self-righteous, he's got it all planned,
He will play the harp, in the Angel Band.
He say's, 'cha-ri-ty, should begin at home, '
But home's a sidewalk, and my pillow's stone.
Lukewarm and wealthy, he don't understand,
'Cause he likes his head, buried in the sand.
He says 'Cut taxes! ' and 'Just end welfare! '
'No more free lunches! ' and 'No free healthcare! '
He asks, 'Why must THEY, always take and take? ...'
It's not his problem, he tells us 'Eat cake! '
He was raised poor too, he should know better,
I think I just might, write him a letter...
Dear Holy-Roller, now, for what it's worth...
Your path to Heaven, should begin on Earth.
Enjoy your Sunday-Church-Celebration,
Pray for us sinners, for our salvation.
Go pray 'til you're blue, tithe your ten percent,
But, PRIDE'S a sin too/When will you repent?
Church says 'Old Holy, gets stars in his crown; '
He LOVES ev'ry-one, long as they ain't brown!
He knows that bible, quotes it all the time,
Church grows richer, guess it's organized crime!
Church got pearly gate, and a golden street,
Children face winter, in their cold, bare-feet.
Preacher's new mansion, is on Easy Street,
Poor Mama wonders, 'What will baby eat? '
Hey Holy-Roller, you're just too funny;
How you give that church, s**t-loads of money.
Preacher takes money, lives high on the hog;
Feeds Filet Mignon, to his weenie-dog!
PS: Mr. Holy... for what it's worth...
The path to Heaven, starts right here on Earth!
'If everyone is thinking alike, then somebody isn't thinking.'
- George S. Patton
'When fascism comes to America, it will be wrapped in a flag and carrying a cross.'
-Sinclair Lewis
poem by ToddMichael St. Pierre
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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No Killing Whores On Sunday
With your King James Bible
And crucifix necklace,
You take perverse pleasure
In berating sinners,
Their ungodliness and tattered lives
Of dirty desires,
Relegate them to certain hell,
Brimstone beds and fiery blankets.
I, too, dig Jesus,
The Sermon on the Mount,
The breaking of bread,
The water into wine,
But I mostly appreciate
Jesus writing in the sand
While men stood around
Waiting to kill a whore,
How he refused to give his hand
To her condemnation,
That beautiful act of compassion,
The sacred acceptance of humanity.
poem by Uriah Hamilton
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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