Category Archives: religion

In this world of injustice, have faith, truth and justice sometimes shine out. And just as my belief was lapsing… Oh, too late.

Crying In The Chapel.

The hard harsh word came from on high, from the Pope,
Gods good servant McCarrick had lost his last hope,
The Pope didn’t hear his prayers or poor innocent pleas;
That pained him more than his poor old worn out knees.

Heaven knows, at 88 Theodore can ill-afford
To get unforgivably offside with his good Lord.

All those abuses of power, the secrets Ted held within
Now lay uncovered, obvious as Hell and ugly as sin,
The long serving Cardinal faces a humiliating defrocking,
No blessings for Ted in next year’s Vatican Christmas stocking.

At least when he’s loudly complaining in Purgatory
Many many priests will sympathise with his story.

Advertisements

Sarah Huckabee Sanders actually gave an interview that lasted longer than ten seconds. For the Christian Broadcasting Network. Heaven help her, and us.

Hard To Believe.

Sarah Sanders says it was surely Gods will
That President was the role Don was predestined to fulfill,
The Lord chose him as His earthly vessel, so she says;
If her word is true, the Lord sure do work in mysterious ways.

So, in what version of the Good Book is it said
That Don can casually fornicate outside the marriage bed,
Then spare no expense to silence another cheap tart?
Bless ‘im, he’s serving himself and the Good Lords counterpart.

Premier League, football, Christmas gifts, and a prayer for whats important at this time. From a Crystal Palace fan’s perspective, at least.

Christmas Hangover.

What an inspiring result at Man City the Palace fans saw,
But we’re back to reality after Cardiff’s Nil-all draw,
Some say the Welsh were plucky,
Some say Palace were unlucky,
Cardiff came with a rear-guard ponderous, leaky and porous,
Hell, those Bluebirds would- should- be easy pickings for us.

But the Palace sharp-shooters hit both the bar and the post,
They tend to clobber the woodwork more often than most,
Gawd, they hit the bar, they miss the ricochet,
We wouldn’t really be celebrating Christs birthday;
Surely after the Man City Miracle, Lord it would please us
If someone nailed in a couple of crosses. (Apologies to Jesus.)

Christmas is coming- Jeez, already!- and all the sweet (and savvy) kids have sent their wants and needs to North Pole Enterprises. Lets see what apps- what ‘appens?

Off The Xmas List.

Would this long jolly December day never end?
All this kid craved was for the blessed night to fall,
I watched in impatience for the sun to descend-
How I’d like to get my hands on that clock on the wall.

Finally in the wee wee hours of Christmas eve
I hopefully strung up my XXL size Christmas stocking,
Murmuring ‘Santa please  don’t practice to deceive,’
After last year my once-solid faith in Him was rocking.

I lay abed replaying my plan of when Santa would descend;
No more milk and cookies left for when He deigned to call,
Now its eggnog, Christmas spirit, Bells 80 proof, special blend,
This kid is not above greasing the skids to get a decent haul.

Come Christmas morning and what did I receive?
From the mantle fluttered my stocking, empty, mocking,
It hurts to find your faith is based on make believe-
No more lists to Santa, that fat bastard I’m Facebook blocking.

I read a passage or two the other day on how the zealots and moral guardians down here on Gods good earth can come to terms with the temptations of Trump. It seems almost all can be forgiven. Now, let us pray…

A Flipping Miracle.

Good God, I find it hard to believe those who do believe
That Donald Trump is part of Gods mysterious Master plan,
Those of blind faith who found a black president impossible to conceive
Yet can find little fault in this one, Gods Right White quite imperfect man.

Any conservative will admit he’s a philanderer,
But Sweet Jesus, Donald’s making a great nation,
And doth the Good Book not say, ‘to be human is to err?’
Let’s give Don the benefit of doubt (and a liberal translation.)

How the bloody righteous paw through chapter and verse,
Praying pardon for their (play)boys less than model behaviour,
Finding any blessed reason to praise a man Beelzebub would curse;
How Divine, stumbling on such a forgiving anti-Gay-Muslim-Refugee Saviour.

Sliding towards the edge, and things are getting flaky at the edge. The hope is to try to hold on and get to the other side, not slip over the edge.

The Man In The Mirror.

It’s winter and I’m of melancholy air,
Summer, months away leaves me in despair,
Cold indifference abounds, no-one seems to care,
Yes, I know, no-one said life was fair.

The Good Book leaves me painfully aware
That God doesn’t think I’m worth a prayer,
Every night is a dark sleepless nightmare,
A sunny morning countenance, all too rare.

I stand before the bathroom mirror and stare,
Reflecting back is a madman’s maniacal glare,
See the troubled eyes, the twisted tousled hair-
Don’t we two make an unprepossesing pair?

Yet our problems are mine alone to share,
And that depressing bastard isn’t going anywhere,
My fear is if he stays I’ll go completely spare-
Please change the mirror, I don’t care to see him there.

Aretha Franklin moves on. (If this too soon, as I suspect, Ma’am, I mean no disrespect.)

Detroit, Downbeat.

Up glides that big long black Cadillac,
Ms Franklin reposing silent in the back,
Gently, reverently the Caddy begins to roll,
One last slow ride for the Queen of Soul.

Let’s pray that that voice that soared
Isn’t now the sole preserve of the Lord;
Saint Pete’s impatiently awaiting her arrival,
He’ll be leading the chorus at her revival.

Now it’s only those blessed, high up above
Can join in with her on the freeway of love,
…Alas, we once had tickets but could not go,
Now, I know, we’ve got no earthly show.