Irreverently Relevant

“Happy is he who repays you for what you have done to us – he who seizes your infants and dashes them against the rocks.” (Psalm 137:9) “I do not permit a woman to teach or to have authority over a man; she must be silent.” (1 Timothy 2:12) “Slaves, submit yourselves to your masters with all respect, not only to the good and gentle but also to the cruel.” (1 Peter 2:18) Quran (3:56) - "As to those who reject faith, I will punish them with terrible agony in this world and in the Hereafter, nor will they have anyone to help." Quran (8:12) - "I will cast terror into the hearts of those who disbelieve. Therefore strike off their heads and strike off every fingertip of them"  Let's be fair in our criticisms dammit! Trouble Ahead

Blasphemy: death penalty. Witchcraft: death penalty. LGBTQ+: death penalty. That may define one or all mostly religious enclaves and nations throughout history, particularly those of the bearing of the misnomer that is "Abrahamic faith." Yet, that is all it is, faith, and not fact, and should therefore be handled as such. The very fact that religion has brought its influence to bear over eons of national policy and governance across numerous lands is a tragedy of the human race. This is the same race that expects to live in harmony while terraforming alien moons, all while fighting over the ethics of female contraception. We are a shallow species that wouldn't survive beyond a few days were some global cataclysm to strike. The first line of defence would likely be solitude and comfort in our tribal nature. Yes, that is who we are. Which segways into the genocide that was perpetrated by the catholic ghouls in the land built upon the graveyards of the natives that is Canada...

Shall my countenance be ruled by pride shall my feet in pure pride stride uncaring of the souls that ego does deride unfeeling of the pain that will abide   shall my heart be as cold as steel like an icicle, frozen to the feel shall my anger be what guides my heel of my boat, will rage be the keel   shall my eyes be blinded to reason shall my heart be filled with derision shall the ego be trapped in a prison devoid of forgiveness and all reason   shall my soul in greed debride the sickness within me and cast aside all shame, every tear, all tossed aside without feeling just keep my stride   shall the seasons be all the same one today for every other game and of love in every other name yet feel lost and loss all the same   shall my love always grow cold wither and wilt as it grows old, shall my winters always be cold as wrath takes me in its hold     cogito ergo sum   G S K ©

There are they that think they run it all and they that think they cannot fall the world is cold, let it be told the world is cold, be not too bold   the curtain of heaven in stars is draped the land of we, a hero uncaped for those that the veil of sanity escaped may their mouths be sealed and tightly taped   the moment swells like the curve of breasts upon which the hand gently rests, the rise and fall of the gentle breaths, once so violent and now so still:   The loss of love, a burden to bear the lack of love, too much to bear, for ev'ry scream, for ev'ry salty tear, my heart does bleed for who I hold dear   the music mellows out in dying tunes of the dead that lie buried in runes, my mind is done, my life is wasted, a life bereft, an existence pasted   let it not be that eternally I cry let is not be that my balls do fry let it not be my eyes that bleed let it not be that for life I bleed   (gsk)©

He spoke with his feet swift and ever so fleet   his legs were in flight his pace was a delight   the track, he ruled the records, he annulled,   his life was rife with rile, his life   so bereft, his life, soundless was his life   he was king of the race all worshipped his pace   his life was trackless his life was tactless,   he jumped, all lept, he fell and slept,   he was never to be the king of the race   none now sees his face the king of the race

There are questions, there are answers, the reflections, there are things,   There are writings, there are questions, the inflections, there are those,   for the equestrian there are answers, for the horse, there are questions   for the epicurean, there lies pleasure, for the stoic, there are notes   for the mad, the stones are thrown, for the sane, they see the writing,   for the damned, sh'eol does beckon, the redeemed, the light, they reckon

as the high winds roll and the whispers call those that rise, and those that fall the sounds that for a moment enthrall they turn as ripe as bitter'st gall   The whispers that make the sounds of love the music that sings the tunes of love the slience that speaks the lack of love the mute response to the cry of love   let the voice be heard so loud to we let the truth be, yea, let it be let the madding imps bleed and flee let the cloister'd soul run free   for moments past, for moments gone for the soul that lies in waters forlo'n for the hate that simmers, the hate unbo'n let justice be done, let it be done   the talk is of the moments past let it be of a tomorrow that will last the footsteps, they long yonder pass'd, let them be for a future to last