Prayers, Songs, and Poems



The War Prayer

O Lord our God, help us tear their soldiers to bloody shreds with our shells; help us to cover their smiling fields with the pale forms of their patriot dead; help us to drown the thunder of the guns with the shrieks of their wounded, writhing in pain; help us to lay waste their humble homes with a hurricane of fire; help us to wring the hearts of their unoffending widows with unavailing grief; help us to turn them out roofless with their little children to wander unfriended the wastes of their desolated land in rags and hunger and thirst, sports of the sun flames of summer and the icy winds of winter, broken in spirit, worn with travail, imploring Thee for refuge of the grave and denied it-- for out sakes who adore Thee, Lord, blast their hopes, blight their lives, protract their bitter pilgrimage, make heavy their steps, water their way with tears, stain the white snow with the blood of their wounded feet! We ask it, in the spirit of love, of Him who is the Source of Love, and Who is the ever-faithful refuge and friend of all that are sore beset and seek His aid with humble and contrite hearts. Amen.

-Mark Twain, "The War Prayer", from Europe and Elsewhere


Prayer for thee

All I ask of Thee, Lord is to be a drinker and fornicator
An unbeliever and a sodomite And then to die.

- Claude de Chauvigny


Oh, Lord, Please Don't Burn Us

Oh Lord please don't burn us
don't kill or toast your flock
Don't put us on the barbecue
or simmer us in stock,
Don't bake or baste or boil us
or stir-fry us in a wok.

Oh, please don't lightly poach us
Or baste us with hot fat.
Don't fricassee or roast us
Or boil us in a vat,
And please don't stick thy servants, Lord,
In a Rotissomat"

--Composed by Eric Idle and John Du Prez, authored by Graham Chapman and John Cleese


Before the Battle

Please God, if you are going to
take me today, in this battle
take me fast

Not like some I have seen
with wounds of horror
that last and last

I have no desire to go Lord
Not this day or ever
But I know it is yours...
and not my will

Let my brothers in battle know
that even though I have left
I am with them still

I will be by their side
through all this fury and
will wait for them
over the hill

-Dave D'Arche December 1999


Please God, Don't Make Me Go

God, please don't make me go into battle,
even though my officers tell me so.
I'm so scared that I'm pissing on my leg.
My best friend was brought back from the war.
He was shot and his innards fell out he's been
screaming in pain, and begged me to kill him.
I don't want to end up like him. So please God,
don't make me go. Please dear God, don't make me go.


-Brian Leemers, private first class

(God answered Brian's prayers. He refused to go and his officers shot him for desertion and failure to obey their command. His bullet wounds did not immediately kill him and he died three hours later after excruciating pain due to his innards falling out. God has a sense of humor, don't you think?)


Prayer for agreement

May God bless those who agree with me.
May God change the minds of those who don't.
And may God twist the ankles of those who don't change their minds,
so that I can recognize them by their limps.


Dinner blessing

Thank you Jesus for this communion;
I hunger for you daily.
I adore your blood, I adore your flesh,
I'll always devour you freely.
This wine I sup, I know is just,
because it's the Blood of Jesus.
This meat I chew, reminds me of you,
especially your blessed thigh area.
Oh Eucharist, oh Eucharist, I devour Christ's life within me.
As the flesh moves through my bowels, I like to think of Jesus.
And when I crap and when I fart, I thank God for communion.


Now, lets eat!



We are like Sheep

Oh Lord you have turned us into sheep.
To be devoured by the wolf in your play.
If we disobey, we will have to pay,
by being tortured and eaten by Satan.
But if we obey and follow your way,
will we be rewarded with Heaven?
You serve as Lord and provide the way,
and you call yourself a Shepherd.
But if we stray and look away, we see the way it really ends.
Lord, you see, we get fleeced and eaten,
by you the shepherd, a false protector.



I am your slave

I am your slave, I will abstain,
Oh Lord, thank you for my pain.
I'll whip myself and loath myself, just to be your chain.
And if you want, I'll hate my wife, just to be your disciple.
I'll slay the children and slaughter your foes just like you did in Exodus.


Gore adore

Thank you Jesus for letting me see you slain.
I adore your blood, I love your wounds,
and I wear your cross with ache and strain.
I love the slaughter, I adore the gore.
Please let me have some more.



Make the foreigners scream and die

Go to God in the hour of our need.
Pray to Him to intercede,
To protect our sons of toil
Deal out death on foreign soil.

Make their seas turn red
With the blood of their dead.
Crush their hopes and dreams,
Turn their songs into screams.



Prayer at Time of War and Catastrophe
Alcuin of York (735-804 AD)

Christ, why do you allow wars and massacres on earth? By what mysterious judgment do you allow innocent people to be cruelly slaughtered? I cannot know. I can only find assurance in the promise that your people will find peace in heaven, where no one makes war. As gold is purified by fire, so you purify souls by these bodily tribulations, making them ready to be received above the stars in your heavenly home.


Bomb the Germans
John Betjeman (from In Westminster Abbey)

Gracious Lord, oh bomb the Germans.
Spare their women for Thy Sake,
And if that is not too easy
We will pardon Thy Mistake.
But, gracious Lord, whate'er shall be,
Don't let anyone bomb me.


Thank you for not killing me today

Dear Lord, I know that I am worthless and a constant source of irritation to you. Thank you for not killing me today and flinging my limp corpse into the flames of the sadistic Hell you created. As a True Christian, I love you with all my heart, convenience permitting, and am only glad your nasty temper was not turned on me today.

Lord Jesus, I know that your love is unconditional. All you ask is that I do everything you demand ­ and flatter you regularly and without shame or regard to the mess you make of everything you try to create.

Even though you made some noise about giving away all our possessions to the poor, please guide your Republican party to effect that which you most desire ­ tax cuts for folks rich enough to tithe.

In this I pray,

Your humble servant,

Oh, and while I have you, Jesus, I really want me one of them new Lexus two door automobiles. So please call on me to withdraw sufficient funds from the tax-free coffers of Landover Baptist Church's offshore accounts so that you may bless me with the leather upgrade and onboard navigation.


[Prayer delivered to the non-believers at the "Godless March On Washington" event on Nov. 2, 2002, by Pastor Deacon Fred from the Landover Baptist Church]



An honest prayer

[Wally Kaspars, from LUMPEN vol 5, Nos. 8/9]

Dear Lord, love me today and forever, bless my soul and conscience
daily, agree with all of my decisions, punish my eneimes until I am
staisfied, give me huge amounts of money, promise to help me always
win, look the other way when I cheat, justify my excuses and believe
all my lies, obey my wishes, and reserve the most luxurious part of
heaven just for me. I will be thankful as long as you do what I say.




Fuck You Father

by Darwin Bedford

Fuck you, Father,
for creating a planet where
life feeds on life,
feeds on life...
Fuck you, Father,
for a world economy that
has mothers watch their
children starve to death.
And fuck you, Father,
for religious wars, floods,
tornados, and poisons.
You sick bastard.



The Capitalist's Prayer
© 1992 Keith Halonen

Father, Son, and Holy Ghost
Give others some
But give me the most!




Bart Simpson - saying grace

Dear God. We paid for all this stuff ourselves, so thanks for nothing.

A Prayer To My Fellow Humans

I pray to you my fellow humans (not god) that in the future you will see the folly of beliefs and realize the danger they present to our children, that you render your present "holy" book as obsolete as the Egyptian book of the Dead, where god resembles a superhero of fantasy comics, where no one can drag you, and everyone around you into a war justified by superstition, falsehoods, and unexamined ideas. But first you have to examine your own beliefs and ask yourself: do I really want to sacrifice my life to a belief in a supernatural entity solely because a book, my friends, my family or my ego says to? Of course this applies only to your god, and it can't possibly apply to the only True Creator of our World: the Majestic Aliens from the parallel universe of Orbos who call themselves, The Zoyota.


Chaplain Prayer
(From Monty Python's "The Meaning of Life")

Chaplain: Let us praise God. O Lord...
Congregation: O Lord...
Chaplain: ...Ooh, You are so big...
Congregation: ...ooh, You are so big...
Chaplain:...So absolutely huge.
Congregation: ...So absolutely huge.
Chaplain: Gosh, we're all really impressed down here, I can tell You.
Congregation: Gosh, we're all really impressed down here, I can tell You.
Chaplain: Forgive us, O Lord, for this, our dreadful toadying, and...
Congregation: And barefaced flattery.
Chaplain: But You are so strong and, well, just so super.
Congregation: Fantastic.
Chaplain: Amen.
Congregation: Amen.


He is everywhere
In the heavens and the Earth

He makes the stars shine
yet He cannot be seen

He is noble, abundant
and fills the universe

He can lift you into the sky
and bring you gently down

He can take many forms

He can help heal
He can help kill

He can help create
and He can help destroy

Praise be unto He





Onward, Christian Soldiers (By Sabine Baring-Gould and Arthur S. Sullivan)

Onward, Christian soldiers, marching as to war,
With the cross of Jesus going on before;
Christ, the royal Master, leads against the foe;
Forward into battle, See His banners go!

[Stand tall and raise your arm as if holding a sword]


Onward, Christian soldiers,
Marching as to war,
With the cross of Jesus,
Going on before.

[Cross yourself at this point]

At the sign of triumph Satan's legions flee;
On then, Christian soldiers, on to victory,
Hell's foundations quiver at the shout of praise;
Brothers, lift your voices, loud your anthems raise.

[Raise your voice to shouting level]

Like a mighty army moves the Church of God;
Brothers, we are treading where the saints have trod;
We are not divided, all one body we,
One in hope and doctrine, one in charity.


[Put your arms around your fellow singers, hugging them closely. then
kick your feet high, as if marching in high-step.]

Crowns and thrones may perish, kingdoms rise and wane,
but the church of Jesus constant will remain.
Gates of hell can never gainst that church prevail;
we have Christ's own promise, and that cannot fail.


[Start elbowing your fellow singers, as if hurting them in battle.]

Onward, then, ye people, join our happy throng,
Blend with ours your voices in the triumph song;
Glory, laud, and honor unto Christ the King;
This thro' countless ages men and angels sing.


[Use your sword on an innocent bystander, stabbing him in the chest.
Smile as the blood gushes out as if you're happy in triumph.]


Stand Up, Stand Up for Jesus (words by George Duffield, Jr., 1858)

Stand up, stand up for Jesus, ye soldiers of the cross;
Lift high His royal banner, it must not suffer loss.
From victory unto victory His army shall He lead,
Till every foe is vanquished, and Christ is Lord indeed.

Stand up, stand up for Jesus, the solemn watchword hear;
If while ye sleep He suffers, away with shame and fear;
Where'er ye meet with evil, within you or without,
Charge for the God of battles, and put the foe to rout.

Stand up, stand up for Jesus, the trumpet call obey;
Forth to the mighty conflict, in this His glorious day.
Ye that are brave now serve Him against unnumbered foes;
Let courage rise with danger, and strength to strength oppose.

Stand up, stand up for Jesus, stand in His strength alone;
The arm of flesh will fail you, ye dare not trust your own.
Put on the Gospel armor, each piece put on with prayer;
Where duty calls or danger, be never wanting there.

Stand up, stand up for Jesus, each soldier to his post,
Close up the broken column, and shout through all the host:
Make good the loss so heavy, in those that still remain,
And prove to all around you that death itself is gain.

Stand up, stand up for Jesus, the strife will not be long;
This day the noise of battle, the next the victor's song.
To those who vanquish evil a crown of life shall be;
They with the King of Glory shall reign eternally.

[Start each verse while sitting in a chair, and slowly rise until standing tall; then stick
your right arm out straight as in a salute. Sit down again and repeat for the next verse.]


Soldiers of Christ arise (words by Charles Wesley)

Soldiers of Christ arise,
and put your armor on,
strong in the strength which God supplies
thru his eternal Son;
strong in the Lord of Hosts,
and in his mighty power,
who in the strength of Jesus trusts
is more than conqueror.

2. Stand then in his great might,
with all his strength endued,
but take to arm you for the fight
the panoply of God;
that having all things done,
and all your conflicts passed,
ye may o'ercome thru Christ alone
and stand entire at last.

blah, blah, blah...

[Christians sure have a thing about rising and standing.]

The Battle Belongs To The Lord

In heavenly armour we'll enter the land.
The battle belongs to the Lord.
No weapon that's fashioned against us will stand,
The battle belongs to the Lord.

* And we sing glory, honour, power and praise to the Lord.
And we sing glory, honour, power and praise to the Lord.

When the power of darkness comes in like a flood,
The battle belongs to the Lord.
He's raised up a standard, the pow'r of His blood.
The battle belongs to the Lord.

Repeat (*)

When your enemy presses in hard do not fear,
The battle belongs to the Lord.
Take courage, my friend, your redemption is near,
The battle belongs to the Lord.

Repeat (*)

[This song is more effective if you wear a soldiers outfit with a cross painted on a chest of armor while holding a rifle. At the end of each chorus, let loose a few rounds.]


Sound the Battle Cry (by William Fiske Sherwin, 1869)

Sound the battle cry! See, the foe is nigh;
Raise the standard high for the Lord;
Gird your armor on, stand firm every one;
Rest your cause upon His holy Word.

[Have someone in the background scream, "KILL EM!"]

Rouse, then, soldiers, rally round the banner,
Ready, steady, pass the word along;
Onward, forward, shout aloud Hosanna!
Christ is Captain of the mighty throng.

[The man in the background yells, "Ay-yah Captain!"]

Strong to meet the foe, marching on we go,
While our cause we know, must prevail;
Shield and banner bright, gleaming in the light,
Battling for the right we ne'er can fail.

[Kick your legs in goose-step fashion]

O! Thou God of all, hear us when we call,
Help us one and all by Thy grace;
When the battle's done, and the vict'ry's won,
May we wear the crown before Thy face.

blah, blah, blah...

[At the end of the song, pour blood over your face and scream, "Yaaah-eeeeha!"]

Southern Battle Cry of Freedom (A Civil War song sung by Confederates)

music: George F. Root; words: anonymous

1) We are marching to the field, boys,
We're going to the fight,
Shouting the battle cry of freedom.
And we bear the Heavenly cross,
For our cause is in the right,
Shouting the battle cry of freedom.


Our rights forever,
Hurrah! Boys! Hurrah!
Down with the tyrants,
Raise the Southern star,
And we'll rally 'round the flag, boys,
We'll really once again,
Shouting the battle cry of freedom.

2) We'll meet the Yankee hosts, boys,
With fearless hearts and true,
Shouting the battle cry of freedom.
And we'll show the dastard minions,
What Southern pluck can do,
Shouting the battle cry of freedom. Chorus

3) We'll fight them to last, boys,
If we fall in the strife,
Shouting the battle cry of freedom.
Our comrades - noble boys!
Will avenge us, life for life,
Shouting the battle cry of freedom. Chorus

The Son of God Goes Forth to War (words by Reginald Heber, 1812)

The Son of God goes forth to war,
A kingly crown to gain;
His blood-red banner streams afar:
Who follows in His train?
Who best can drink his cup of woe,
Triumphant over pain,
Who patient bears his cross below,
He follows in His train.

blah, blah, blah...

[As a nice touch, have a blood soaked banner in the background, letting it drip blood into a cup.
When finished singing, drink from the cup with gusto.]

Christian, dost thou see them?

Christian, dost thou se them
On the holy ground?
How the troops of Midian
Prowl and prowl around?
Christian, up and smite them,
Counting gain but loss;
Smite them by the merit
of the holy cross.

blah, blah, blah...

[This hymn first appeared in Hymns of the Eastern Church (1862) by J M Neale (1818-1866) and was first published for congregational use in his Parish Hymn Book (1863).]

Lord, I ascribe it to thy grace (by Isaac Watts)

Lord, I ascribe it to thy grace,
And not to chance as others do,
That I was born of Christian race,
And not a heathen, or a Jew.

blah, blah, blah...

Let children that would fear the Lord

Let children that would fear the Lord
Hear what their teachers say;
With reverence meet their parents’ word,
And with delight obey.
Have you not heard what dreadful plagues
Are threaten’d by the Lord,
To him that breaks his father’s law,
Or mocks his mother’s word?
What heavy guilt upon him lies!
How cursed is his name!
The ravens shall pick out his eyes,
And eagles eat the same.
But those who worship God, and give
Their parents honour due,
Here on this earth they long shall live,
And live hereafter, too.

[So you see little children, obey your parents and worship god or your eyes will be plucked out.]

Every Sperm is sacred
(From Monty Python's "The Meaning of Life")

Every sperm is sacred.
Every sperm is great.
If a sperm is wasted,
God gets quite irate.

Every sperm is sacred.
Every sperm is great.
If a sperm is wasted,
God gets quite irate.

Let the heathen spill theirs
On the dusty ground.
God shall make them pay for
Each sperm that can't be found.

Every sperm is wanted.
Every sperm is good.
Every sperm is needed
In your neighbourhood.

Hindu, Taoist, Mormon,
Spill theirs just anywhere,
But God loves those who treat their
Semen with more care.

Every sperm is sacred.
Every sperm is great.
If a sperm is wasted,...
...God get quite irate.

Every sperm is sacred.
Every sperm is good.
Every sperm is needed...
...In your neighbourhood!

Every sperm is useful.
Every sperm is fine.

God needs everybody's.


And mine!

And mine!

Let the Pagan spill theirs
O'er mountain, hill, and plain.

God shall strike them down for
Each sperm that's spilt in vain.

Every sperm is sacred.
Every sperm is good.
Every sperm is needed
In your neighbourhood.

Every sperm is sacred.
Every sperm is great.
If a sperm is wasted,
God gets quite iraaaaaate!

[Listen to the song here.]


Glory of Discordia
(from Principia Discordia)

Onward Christian Soldiers,
Onward Buddhist Priests.
Onward, Fruits of Islam,
Fight till you're deceased.
Fight your little battles,
Join in thickest fray;
For the Greater Glory,
of Dis-cord-i-a.
Yah, yah, yah,
Yah, yah, yah, yah.

Coming Like a Christian

Jeesus beejesus, what chu gonna do?
You died on wood with a woodie, how cool,
But you can't do nutin, about my blue nuts, how cruel.
Nutin... nutin... nutin you can do.
But what about yo mudder, who never had a fucker,
Hey virgin hoe, gimme some tang, so I can be cool too.
Gimmie a woodie so I can sell you too.
You wanna stay a virgin? Then I'll put it in your pooter.
Beggars can't be choosers, so poo, poo, poo.
Oh, no, no, no, I'm becoming religious too:
I'm coming, I'm becoming, I'm cumming like you.
Shizzle my pizzle, you hippity-hopity Jew. I'm coming like a Christian, I'm a pervert shizzley-doo.

--Klipity-Klapper (hip-hop artist)

The Lord God made them all
by Eric Idle and sung by the Monty Python team
(Cited from Richard Dawkins book, "The Greatest Show on Earth")

All things dull and ugly
All creatures short and squat
All things rude and nasty
The Lord God made the lot.

Each little snake that poisons
Each little wasp that stings
He made their brutish venom
He made their horrid wings.

All things sick and cancerous
All evil great and small,
All things foul and dangerous
The Lord God made them all.

Each nasty little hornet
Each beastly little squid
Who made the spiky urchin?
Who made the sharks? He did!

All things scabbed and ulcerous
All pox both great and small
Putrid, foul and gangrenous
The Lord God made them all.

[Listen to the song here.]

Fuck Christmas!
by Eric Idle

Fuck Christmas!
It's a waste of fucking time
Fuck Santa
He's just out to get your dime,
Fuck Holly and Fuck Ivy
And fuck all that mistletoe
White-bearded big fat bastards
Ringing bells where e'er you go
And bloated men in shopping malls
All going Ho-Ho-Ho
It's Christmas fucking time again!

Fuck Christmas
It's a fucking Disney show
Fuck carols
And all that fucking snow
Fuck reindeer
And fuck Rudolph
And his stupid fucking nose
And fucking sleigh bells tinkling
Everywhere you fucking goes
Fuck stockings and fuck shopping
It just drives us all insane.
Go tell the elves
To fuck themselves
It's Christmas time again!

[Listen to the song here.]

God Will Fuck You Up
by John R. Butler

Oh sinner, do no stray
From the straight and narrow way
For the Lord is surely watching what you do

If you approach the Devil's den
Turn 'round, don't enter in
Lest the hands of The Almighty fall on you

He'll fuck you up (He'll fuck you up)
Yes, God will fuck you up
If you dare to disobey His stern command
He'll fuck you up (He'll fuck you up)
Don't you know He'll fuck you up
So you better do some prayin' while you can

Long ago a man named Lot
Had a wife he thought was hot
But she could not stop her black and sinful ways
You know it was her own damn fault
When God turned that bitch to salt
That's the way He used to work back in those days

He fucked 'em up (He'll fuck you up)
He really fucked'em up
When the people went and turned their backs on Him
He can fuck you up (He'll fuck you up)
No shit He'll fuck you up
Just like He fucked the people up back then

I used to have a friend named Ray
Who walked that evil way
He cursed and drank and broke his neighbor's fence
You know Ray was full aware
That some sheep were over there
And he knew them in the biblical sense

God fucked him up (He fucked him up)
He went and fucked Ray up
Went and paid him back for all his wicked sins
He fucked him up (He fucked him up)
Fucked that boy completely up
Now he's married to a Presbeterian

[Listen to the song here.]

Dear God
by XTC

Dear God, hope you got the letter, and...
I pray you can make it better down here.
I don't mean a big reduction in the price of beer
But all the people that you made in your image, see
Them starving on their feet 'cause they don't get
Enough to eat from God, I can't believe in you

Dear God, sorry to disturb you, but... I feel that I should be heard
Loud and clear. We all need a big reduction in amount of tears
And all the people that you made in your image, see them fighting
In the street 'cause they can't make opinions meet about God,
I can't believe in you

Did you make disease, and the diamond blue? Did you make
Mankind after we made you? And the devil too!

, don't know if you noticed, but... your name is on
A lot of quotes in this book, and us crazy humans wrote it, you
Should take a look, and all the people that you made in your
Image still believing that junk is true. Well I know it ain't, and
So do you, dear God, I can't believe in I don't believe in

I won't believe in heaven and hell. No saints, no sinners, no
Devil as well. No pearly gates, no thorny crown. You're always
Letting us humans down. The wars you bring, the babes you
Drown. Those lost at sea and never found, and it's the same the
Whole world 'round. The hurt I see helps to compound that
Father, Son and Holy Ghost is just somebody's unholy hoax,
And if you're up there you'd perceive that my heart's here upon
My sleeve. If there's one thing I don't believe in

It's you....

[Listen to the song here.]



The Hottest Hell Shall Be Their Place
(Cited from Lemuel K. Washburn's "A Cruel God")

But vengeance and damnation lie
On rebels who refuse His grace;
Who God's eternal Son despise,
The hottest hell shall be their place.

Adore and tremble for our God
(Cited from Lemuel K. Washburn's "A Cruel God")

Adore and tremble for our God
Is a consuming fire!
His jealous eyes with wrath inflame,
And raise His vengeance higher.

Almighty vengeance, how it burns,
How bright His fury glows!
Vast magazines of plagues and storms
Lie treasured for His foes.

Those heaps of wrath, by slow degrees,
Are force into a flame:
But kindled, Oh! how fierce they blaze!
And rend all nature's frame.

At His approach the mountains flee,
And seek a watery grave;
The frighted sea makes haste away,
And shrinks up every wave.

Through the wide air the weighty rocks
Are swift as hailstones hurled;
Who dares engage His fiery rage,
That shakes the solid world?

Thy hand shall on rebellious kings
A fiery tempest pour,
While we, beneath Thy sheltering wings,
Thy just revenge adore.

What would Jesus do?

Jesus died for his sins and even you.
So shouldn't you die too?
Jesus said you shouldn't love your life,
and, in fact, you should hate yourself too. [John 12:25]
You can hang yourself until you're blue,
or catch a disease and die of the flue.
You can crucify yourself just like the Jew,
or jump off a cliff into a vat of glue.
But whatever you do,
die until there's no more you,
because if Jesus were you,
isn't that what he would do?

God Bless America

by Harold Pinter January 2003

Here they go again,
The Yanks in their armoured parade
Chanting their ballads of joy
As they gallop across the big world
Praising America's God.
The gutters are clogged with the dead
The ones who couldn't join in
The others refusing to sing
The ones who are losing their voice
The ones who've forgotten the tune.

The riders have whips which cut.
Your head rolls onto the sand
Your head is a pool in the dirt
Your head is a stain in the dust
Your eyes have gone out and your nose
Sniffs only the pong of the dead
And all the dead air is alive
With the smell of America's God.

Only fools like me

E. Y. Harburg, parody of Joyce Kilmer's poem

But only fools like me you see,
Can make a god, who makes a tree.

Queen Mab: A Philosophical Poem

by Percy Bysshe Shelley (from John E. Remsberg, The Christ, 1909)

'O Spirit! centuries have set their seal
On this heart of many wounds, and loaded brain,
Since the Incarnate came; humbly he came,
Veiling his horrible Godhead in the shape
Of man, scorned by the world, his name unheard
Save by the rabble of his native town,
Even as a parish demagogue. He led
The crowd; he taught them justice, truth and peace,
In semblance; but he lit within their souls
The quenchless flames of zeal, and blessed the sword
He brought on earth to satiate with the blood
Of truth and freedom his malignant soul
At length his mortal frame was led to death.
I stood beside him; on the torturing cross
No pain assailed his unterrestrial sense;
And yet he groaned. Indignantly I summed
The massacres and miseries which his name
Had sanctioned in my country, and I cried,
"Go! go!" in mockery."

The Garden of Love
by William Blake

I went to the Garden of Love.
And Saw what I never had seen:
A Chapel was built in the midst,
Where I used to play on the green.

And the gates of this Chapel were shut,
And Thou shalt not, writ on the door;
So I turnd to the Garden of Love,
That so many sweet flowers bore.

And I saw it was filled with graves,
And tomb-stones where flowers should be:
And Priests in black gowns, were walking their rounds,
And binding with briars, my joys and desires.

If Horses Or Oxen Or Lions Had Hands
by Xenophanes

If horses or oxen or lions had hands

or if they could draw with their hands and

produce works like men,

horses would draw the figures of the gods as

similar to horses, and oxen as similar to oxen,

and they would make the bodies

of the sort which each of them had.


About Jesus
by James Joyce, (from Ullysses, 1922)

I'm the queerest young fellow that ever you heard.
My mother's a jew, my father's a bird.
With Joseph the joiner I cannot agree,
So here's to disciples and Calvary.

If anyone thinks that I amn't divine
He'll get no free drinks when I'm making the wine
But have to drink water and wish it were plain
That I make when the wine becomes water again.

Goodbye, now, goodbye. Write down all I said
And tell Tom, Dick and Harry I rose from the dead.
What's bred in the bone cannot fail me to fly
And Olivet's breezy... Goodbye, now, goodbye.

Lamb of God

by Spike Milligan

Behold, behold, The Lamb of God
As it skips and hops.
I know that soon The Lamb of God
Will be the Lamb of chops.


Ossil's Fossil

There was an old fellow named Ossil
Who found an unusual fossil,
He could tell by the bend
And the wart on the end
'Twas the penis of Paul the Apostle.

[This extraordinary find (made in 1511 whilst Ossil was digging for a notorious Pompeian night club) was the true cause of the schism between the Church of England and Rome, and the subsequent excommunication of Henry VIII.... Pope Leo V issued a papal bull decreeing the fossil a profane object and ordered it burned. The profane object proved its holiness -- or its incombustibility -- by refusing to burn. With fanatical courage Ossil snatched it from the embers and fled to England, piously making no earthly use of the sacred relic during his journey. Robust King Henry knighted Ossil and canonized the fossil. Henry bluntly declared that, as far as he was concerned, phallic worship was as good as any.]



Church Transparent

by Danniel Dennett

In the way that the Pope is inerrant,
it can slowly become quite apparent,
If you open its drawers, its windows and its doors,
A church can become almost transparent.



by Creeper Rangoon

Yes Jesus had a penis.
Alas not a big one as you might guess,
but he had a penis, nevertheless.
And just because Jesus had a penis,
doesn't mean his shared it with his legions.
Nor does it mean he shared it with Josephus.
Even Mary never touched his weenus.
Of course he peed, as he did his dirty deed,
but I'll bet he wondered why he peed from it,
or even had a need for it.
He never needed to kneed his holy penis,
because a virgin has no need to tease it.
yet Jesus had a penis,
A useless apendage, between his kneesus.



by Creeper Rangoon

Halaluha, Jesus had balls.
He thought he was god incarnate,
now that takes a lot of balls,
not to mention, a lot of gall.
Especially, a virgin who never needed them,
Carrying around a sack of balls,
must have been a hell of a ball.



by Creeper Rangoon

Jesus rhymes with feces,
Well, not exactly so,
but just say fesus instead of feces,
and you'll see that you've succeeded.
Sing it loud and sing it clear:

[Note: Creeper Rangoon has been declared by many to be the most important poet of the 20th Century.]