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A Religious Disturbance

A Religious Disturbance

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This poem, like much of what I write, was started with no idea where it may go. When it developed into this, I was surprised but happy since it expressed my religious beliefs almost (but not quite) perfectly, with the added bonus of the knowledge that it would piss off folks who live their entire lives practicing hypocrisy with a stick up their asses.
There are two references --maybe more but these particular ones stand out as I write this short description-- that some READERS may recognize. One is a title to a Hunter S. Thompson book (albeit one of his worst) and the other is an Anne Rice "Vampire Chronicles" type thing.
I hope you enjoy this darker side of religious interruptions……
Res Ipsa Loquitur
.A.N.F.
westies 209
This poem, like much of what I write, was started with no idea where it may go. When it developed into this, I was surprised but happy since it expressed my religious beliefs almost (but not quite) perfectly, with the added bonus of the knowledge that it would piss off folks who live their entire lives practicing hypocrisy with a stick up their asses.
There are two references --maybe more but these particular ones stand out as I write this short description-- that some READERS may recognize. One is a title to a Hunter S. Thompson book (albeit one of his worst) and the other is an Anne Rice "Vampire Chronicles" type thing.
I hope you enjoy this darker side of religious interruptions……
Res Ipsa Loquitur
.A.N.F.
westies 209

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Published by: Andrew N. Farrens (Drew Kazinsky) on Aug 23, 2012
Copyright:Attribution Non-commercial

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08/24/2012

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A Religious Disturbance
Early one bright and sunny Saturday morningI woke with bad breath on the wrong side of the bedBut still enjoying the luxurious ritual of stretching and yawningWishing I could dive back into those blessed dreamsBut a well tuned instinct warns of somethingCreeping toward my door masquerading as Religious Morality(surely intervening for my Soul) And is on its way and nothing in the imagination can stop its comingBefore I can even fall out of my oh so comfortable bedI can hear the chatter of muted indecipherable talkingWhile I feel the patter of the self-righteous foot-steps walking After the front door-bell chimes the Song of the DoomedIn the sudden, stifling silence, surprisingly no-one hears the hammer of a gun cockingBack on the single shot twenty gauge sawed-off shotgunI keep near my front entrance for the intrusions of unwanted guests that come knockingSo obsessed with the need to save un-baptized Souls, they NEVER think to listenFor the unwelcoming noise that reveals the signal of remorseless Death stalkingThe next victim of The Savage GardenWho will soon be underground decomposing and slowly rotting
 
Children of God brutally slain in a way that the circumstances seem insaneIt is a crime against all things Godly so in the mindsOf even the most cynical, it’s a dreadful criminal deed utterly shockingT’was a false vision the “God” sent these misguided SoulsIn the interminable seconds before they fatally rang my door-bellBecause I believe the “Gods” and “Devils” of ALL ReligionsKeep a secret so terrible that They can never allow any to ever tell Ancient Wisdom that has been forgotten in the shifting whirlwinds of TimeSecrets from long before the great culture of Mesopotamia fellThe distant truth is that They are both one and the same And ONLY in the Earthly Realm can They even dwellCollecting our perplexed Souls with startlingly easeFor in this buyer’s market, every man, woman, and child is eager to sellThe most important thing they possess, for without the Soul A person is without moral essence and exists as just a hollowed shellWasting away in the ridiculousness of a pointless life And this to me is the very definition of what y’all might call HellBut as spiritual as my words may sound to a jury of my peers,To whom my story the prosecutors forced me to tell,I know it is all nonsense and the REAL truth is thatI am mentally disturbed, psychologically un-wellI knew I was in the wrong even as the shot-gun blastEchoed about my head when the first body fell

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