I worship a God who drowns the world because it’s painting cave walls with paints made from human blood, and pottery, and keeps dead relative’s corpses with them as decoration, and does who knows what else.

I also worship a God who tells the Israelites to destroy nations that cannibalize their own children, and have orgies just so they can cannibalize their own children, to practice gross satanic rituals.

Do you hear the subtlety of her breath?
The terse, spondee sentences? 
Declarative, and so direct?
Do you hear how she makes
Me like Thomas Chatterton
And with lies, demolishes an entire career?
The Special Education Teacher
Meets the Poet, the Essayist and Novelist
And she in one utterance undoes it all?

Yet. I still write.

For if I wrote by her rules,
I'd have little joy.

I’d argue that I’m in no way an elitist, 
Because the elites agree with you. 
You, indeed, are the elitist now. 
And you now hold the literary pretentions of a generation.

Pharisees

Oh my! This man has found all the evidence
And yet he is a miserable sex offender!
If the world knows about him, that he found all these things
Oh that rascal, the whole world would stop believing!
For why would God give prosperity to a letch like him!
Why is he so creative with his thoughts?
He rebukes us at the dinner table for saying what the Bible says
That Jephthah murdered his daughter, and God's silence is aught!
To die, means one descends to the grave, and only afterward
Do they rise and meet their maker! Yet he said 
"To be absent from the body is to be present with the LORD!"
Oh, this offender! This letch, this terrible letch
Undoing all our Religious Dictatorship! Paul said "And" not "Is".
His evidence is 100 years different than what is spoken by Paul!
And, then, he rebukes a good man about the man whom
Jesus healed, and asked if he wanted water!
We know that man is a sinner, for why would God
All knowing, ask such a thing? We understand God's thoughts.
This letch, we must steal his bread, and fortune, and prosper ourselves
For if he is known among the peoples, they shall all laugh at him and lose faith.
He even has the audacity to say God's law is self evident
And need not He to be true! Why must aught be true
Unless God makes it? Why? All things are only  known
Because the Bible tells us so. And nothing else can be known at all.

Sadducees

Oh my, this person preaches on sin!
And he is a miscreant!
Oh, we love our God Sin, that is God
The brazen bull, and he wishes to break it to pieces!
We shall have our Abomination set up in the temple
And Theophilus never heard one true word about our God.
We shall let the sodomites be married!
There is not one shred of evidence that God exists
And we know Zoroastrianism was the first Monotheistic faith.
The Jews were Pagans, and Polytheistic
And worshipped at the altars of sin,
This we know because of much evidence;
Until that miscreant Josiah changed the religion.
No, their books were not written
Until after the exile, this we know---
(Despite it clearly being established on evidenced not to be the case.)

A poet's freedom, is they can preach
On battles never fought, and cities never breeched.
For in that year of Eighteen Hundred and Three
England was not invaded by French, and there was no victory.
Yet, Wordsworth boldly prophesied, of victory that day;
No English soil was spilled with blood,
But in October of 1803 he did say,
In anticipation of British guns
To defend the Isles of Arthur
He had declared Britain a victory won.
No prophetic power, no fulfilled truth
It was only an idle boast...
Yet where the poet is not free to say
That brings on a mighty host.
For, illiberal are the times, and olden victories sore
Even if no armies assail, or come upon American shores
We have lost our right to speak and buy
And have lost our rights to privacy.
The poet's not free because the citizenry
Wish him to be fettered to their zeal.
For freedoms hard fought are gone
And the opposition against it childish.
For if peace lasted like so a thousand years
It would be the utmost vilest.

The sleeping slumber, slipped     My startled soul 
When the Phalanxes fell     Fated upon the frail faults 
Where they beat perfectly brazen     Beasts on the first battle. 
But, the great horsemen came harrowing    Harrowed upon the hills 
And the Phalanxes could not turn     For, though Cyrus fought in those Phalanxes 
Alexander the Great aligned himself     With the all coming animals 
Who would feast upon flesh     In battles gross and bald. 
Thus, the Phalanxes could not furnish     Their foes, for Alexander's rush attacked 
Them from the port guard, and grueling     Gore spilled over the gargantuan gorges. 
Cyrus' numbers were no more.     Alexander had numbered them with the null. 
Who will assay Alexander though?    The Abomination surrounded Ariel  
And who, but Christ, will Christen the victor won?    Can anyone but He defeat and pay the cost? 
Therefore, Jeshurun, flee to the hillocks and dales     And don't come down, even if he says "I am David". 

Satan, a loud, obnoxious voice
In my intrusive thoughts
Says, "Stop prophesying,
"Or you will pay the awful cost."
He says, "Know if you were famous
"All Christendom would be lost."
So, I say, "How is that so?
"Because they have not built their 
"Foundations upon the rock?"
If Prophecy is sin, and wisdom wrong
Then it shall be that falling away will
Come in not so surely long.

When at ease, and fully trusting
One walks through their paths...
All hell and storm abounding
One is delivered from the wrath.

Every clean bird shall congregate
Around you, in the boughs
Of trees and rivers and lakes
And they shall flutter all around.

The Blue Bird, the Cardinal
The Goldfinch and the Grouse
Red Winged Blackbird
The Sparrow and even the Squirrels now.

And if you are in God's timing
You shall walk down the path
And the congregation of blessing
Shall see you are not proud.