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I HOPE THE CHURCH WILL REMEMBER ME (In Memory of Jess Tapper)

Lord if you were real,
Why did you leave your story
In the hands of men who will enslave
Who will extort, and who will kill for sport?

Why must we get to you through the Pope,
The crown and the government,
Potentates and a Regnant race,
The Pedophile and the Priest?

If there is a God,
He can't approve of Christianity,
Because of the separation,
And the hate that it teaches.

If there is a God,
I hope one day he speaks to me-
Lord speak to me,
The religions of men can't be right!

Their laws are too strict,
You can't seriously burn anyone in a fire.
I have been through hail and storms
A wild goose chase to sink in this river.

But when finally I'm gone
As we all will retire a sinner
And your angels slam the door behind me,
I hope the Church will remember me.

Review Request (Direction): 
What did you think of my title?
How was my language use?
What did you think of the rhythm or pattern or pacing?
How does this theme appeal to you?
How was the beginning/ending of the poem?
Is the internal logic consistent?
Editing stage: 

Comments

As always your poem is compelling, as we feel your presence and emotion in it.
As the resident poet of American Atheist magazine, I certainly understand your complaints.

Consider the Bible got it all wrong: "God" did not create man in his own image, man created god in his own image.
Then the cruelty of religion all makes sense. So no need to rail at god, it's not "his" fault, as he (it) does not exist, at least certainly not in the way it's presented. You use the word "if" often in the poem, and aim your anger at gods disappointing performances. We all do that. But in the end, it's a dead end.
Somewhere in the human brain is a connection with some sort of force of love. Just the miracle of our own existence.
Perhaps the Buddhist philosophy (NOT Buddhism the religion, with its silly rituals like all the others) is the closest to our possible apprehension of this force. It is intangible, but we know it exists within us in our brief moments when we are filled with the miraculous.
It is hard not to be pissed at god, the creator, for being such a fuck-up. But the peace can come from our mediation of our own thoughts. (This is basic Krishnamurti. check him out)
Hoping this finds you well, I so understand the hard life that you have in your current situation, and want you to know you always have a friend and a fan of your startling opus of work. I'm not through trying to help you get some published!
I'll be in touch.
..

Eumolpus
I'd rather learn from one bird how to sing
than teach ten thousand stars how not to dance
ee cummings

Religion is for the feebleminded and cowards who are too afraid to admit to themselves that man is nothing more than wormfood. Correction! I will deny those crawlers their feast by curling up in a cozy urn, right after cremation. And, being an eighty-six-year-old invalid, I say these words as an enlightened person: at my final hour on this planet--keep the priest away from my bedside. Eumolpus, please PM me info. as to how I can subscribe to your publication. Thanks. JerryK

Religion is for the feebleminded and cowards who are too afraid to admit to themselves that man is nothing more than wormfood. Correction! I will deny those crawlers their feast by curling up in a cozy urn, right after cremation. And, being an eighty-six-year-old invalid, I say these words as an enlightened person: at my final hour on this planet--keep the priest away from my bedside. Eumolpus, please PM me info. as to how I can subscribe to your publication. Thanks. JerryK

to be an Agnostic, I pity the fool that says unequivocally, that "There is no God!" I don't think that there is a person, man, thing, seated somewhere on a throne; watching everything we do and checking off our faults and deciding if we go to an everlasting fire or delicious life in Paradise. But, I'm not sure that there isn't something beyond our comprehension at work; something that started our universe, either. Who knows who has it right? Catholics, Protestants etc. I heard a story once...
A man died and went to Heaven, when he gets there, [God], tells an angel to show him around. They see various cities of gold and precious gems and beautiful people walking around. He always gets excited and asks: "Who lives here?"
He gets the usual list: The Baptists, Catholics, Methodists... They come to a high grey wall that you can't see over or around and it goes on and on. The man gets really excited and practically screams; "Wow, who lives here?" The angel says shhhhh that's the _________[ fill in the blank] they think they're the only ones here!" We won't know until we get there!

Your poem has a lost quality about it, it feels like someone searching for the truth! I read it easily and understood your message. Your title is good, it draws a person in, not a good representation of the poem, but it works.
~ Geezer.
.
.

Come to Chat on the Darkside
every other Saturday night 8pm to ?
Bring your dark and delicious work
to show.

we alll need scapegoats '
ere our own sacrifice
so man has invented a god
to lead
rather than be lead

god is you '
if you cannot live without a creator
for me it's
SUN '
O POET

Especially Mark who I regard as my mentor... I appreciate the feedbacks!

Hommies

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