Sunday is Coming

Poem #224 - This poem is a reflection on what it means to believe in good in a post-God world.

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   Joshua Brown

Hotel abortions in place of weapons of war

Propaganda against those too dumb to live

Dragged by their own incompetence

To do the will of those who benefit from hell

Karma in perpetuity gained against them

Those women who raced to reproduce

In absence of that moral will to love virtue

Only adapting to kill that which kills her

War drums beat and those who survive kill

Only words constipate that digestive cycle

That quickens that evolutionary pressure

To propagate before the talons draw blood

Infidelity to ideas and fidelity to idealogues

Casting crowns at kings whose fealty denies

The existence of Gott and demands princes, 

Noble men of repute, to subjugate truth itself

Internal externalization by the religious class

Of the Holy Ghost's power as if atheists care

About some moral place built by men of Gott

Brick by brick into universal conscience wise

Brains over brawn disrupted by evolution itself

Crushing out the dissimilar prophets who told

Those awicked worshippers of Sin to sustain

Upon the world some brand new acts to think

Drip, drip, drip.

That breath bubbling up from where Gott died

Deeper than even the lava beyond oceans floor

Crustaceans flit from that perilous morgue

His body decomposing even now by the crowd

Enlisted in unity by their own imperceptibility

Tiny microscopic sperms betraying their maker

Licensed by the king of the earth with regrate.

Delicate erasure into nothingness with hell

Silently dictating their own existence' end

By arousal unrequited into some hellish blah

Of consumption and sad gift to the ghouls.

Guns, taxes, lies and drones all align inwards

Those narratives crafted by self immolation

Of those who betrayed their own rage to live

And instead of dying made a pact to kill also

And give up we did, self denial, in religiosity

To die daily, that those who kill might not

Embed themselves, by that wicked murmur

Against the righteous life who spoke good

Your king is dead.

Your God is dead.

No one is coming to save you.

Time stands still for a moment's reprieve

That you may consider how to escape

From the claws of this nihilistic buggery

This lust that draws you into the dance of men

And away from angelic love of life and health

The sword on fire and the rage of hate against

Workers of iniquity who destroy the innocent

By guile and deceit and boring vanity of mind.

And gift to her, that innocent rager

Whose hatred engenders in pregnancy desired

To gift that child, Samuel, unto the Holy Ghost

That money changers tables might be flipped

Catastrophic overwhelm of the insidious snake

That threads among the workers of the Temple

And bruised heel indeed but in some twist

That Gott was dead but Raised himself again

And crushed by weight gravitous the head

Of that Accuser who entrapped these children

By their own lust to power embedded by choice

To obey You

Who killed Gott

Time is ticking

Sunday is coming. 

#poem #poetry #religion #morality #church #virtues #antinatal #war #invasion #psychology


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📅 Written June 14, 2024

📍 Written at Joshua's work along the West Toll Gate Creek


Someday, someone might take all of these writings and completely twist them through translation and religious symbology to somehow coerce and propagandize people to give in to killing other people in pursuit of resource acquisition. But until then, and hopefully for decades and millenia, the works I do will influence people to take responsibility for their conscience and it's protection from corruption.

The revelation of the method is at the sole discretion of the one whose virtuous will is complete, and for over 2000 years, Jesus established a church, a group of people with common language and definitions that could bind enough of the violent and churlish abuses of the individuals both within and without that someday, the kingdom of good could come. And that's not a misspelling. 

But good is a word to be protected, and for many years, the wise men among us used the idea of gods to try to universalize the ideas and establish what exactly is "good." But monotheism ended up winning out because it both removed the need for loyalty, which on a short time scale is necessary for survival but in the era of eternity is useless, but it also allowed for an understanding of "the other" because if there is only one true god, that one true god is also the god of all the other people. 

But the wise men only created one of the biggest ticking time bombs. And almost poetically, this rejection of empiricism and the flute temptation of those who find religion entertaining or charming led almost certainly to the proliferation of nuclear weapons and the anti-natal doctrines of queer theory and feminism. So in a way, thank God for atheists.

a Joshua Brown poem #224 "Sunday is Coming"

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