Faith, Creation and Creator

Rose is a rose
By any other name
Creator, not sanctioned by
One’s own faith
Why is not the same

Losing our faith
We stopped seeking
Finding solace in miracles
Allowing us to be fooled
By afterlife’s dreams

Lured by promise
Of redeeming our souls
Of a heaven unseen
We sold ourselves
Committing the original sin

Peddlers of faith
Conquered and plundered
In the name of the creator
Rained unspeakable destruction
Offer us salvation

Where did we go wrong
We all of different faith
Enjoy the same creation
But with daggers drawn
Defend our creator’s name

Manipulated by the unscrupulous
Mortgaging our brains
We dance, celebrating division
In our creator’s name
Who says creator not the same

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For a Heaven Peddled

For a God unseen
We sacrifice
Those who need ours
We leave them
To mercy of God
Indoctrained from childhood
We offer prayers
And fill the coffers
Of those
Whose business is
The soul of mortals
Who amongst us
Has seen afterlife
For a heaven peddled
We mortgage our present
And create hell
On earth
While the custodians
Of morality
Turn a blind eye
As the powerfuls
Bend the rules
They have sold
Their souls
And tangoed with
The devil
Offering balms
To our tortured souls
If politics makes
Strange bedfellows
Religion is not
Far behind

Standing up to injustice is the only solution

‘That you, in the dim coming times,
May know how my heart went with them
After the red-rose-bordered hem.’ —W.B. Yeats

The roads are littered with gold, they said
Hard work and belief in oneself if one possess
Enough to make a new life, they merrily proclaimed
Come one and come all, we will all progress

El Dorado it was not, didn’t matter to folks
A hard working lot, they not afraid to work
Melting pot of civilizations, they wrote the songs
Built roads to carry produce, beef and pork

New immigrants not like us, they say it’s wrong
Coming in hordes stealing our jobs and bread
Something is rotting in heaven, stench is strong
Skeletons brushed under the rug poking their head

Time to stand up, trouble brewing in the horizon
Standing up to injustice is the only solution


This poem is in response to Jane Dougherty’s A Month (November) with Yeats Challenge day Thirteen

 

 

What

What do I have to lose
Heaven knows if I am not trying even
All that I can think of is
Time will not wait for me

Why do I have to worry
Hindsight is always 20/20
Anything I want to try
There is no guarantee

Where all fun has gone
Hard is life as it is
Add more misery to life
Tell me what I am going to gain

When I sum up everything
How blessed do I feel
Ample opportunities life has given
To be what I want to be


Write anything Wednesday Sept-07-2016