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Jesus (Free verse) by Dovina (Reflections After Reading The New Testament)
At the moment of death
He had no doubt,
âIt is finishedâ
Poem complete.
His supporters,
Poem in hand,
Twisted words,
Jumbled letters,
Canonized, dogmatized.
Until those letters spell evil
As clearly as good,
While He remains
The righteous King.
Up the ladder:
Castaway
Down the ladder:
Lips no longer innocent
Votes: (green: user, blue: anonymous)
Arithmetic Mean: 5.5
Posted: November 11, 2004 12:11 PM PST; Last modified: November 11, 2004 12:11 PM PSTWeighted score: 5.134471 Overall Rank: 5599 Comments:
[n/a]
-=Dark_Angel=-, P.I. @ 208.131.173.64
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11-Nov-04/8:13 PM
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Reply
The only circumstances under which I would describe a poeme as "Reflections on/after something" are circumstances of extreme jest. Yet this is no jest. With your very soul exuding conviction, you have actually begun a poeme with the dumpling: Reflections After Reading The New Testament. I suggest you go away and reflect on what you've done.
[n/a]
Dovina @ 69.175.6.101
> -=Dark_Angel=-, P.I.
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11-Nov-04/8:24 PM
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Reply
Okay, done. Any more reflections on what I've done?
[n/a]
-=Dark_Angel=-, P.I. @ 208.131.173.64
> Dovina
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11-Nov-04/8:32 PM
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Reply
Yes. Your a dunce.
[n/a]
Dovina @ 69.175.6.101
> -=Dark_Angel=-, P.I.
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11-Nov-04/8:34 PM
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Reply
A thoroughly reflective comment.
The depraved rantings of a spaz.
I believe you mean ârant.â To say "ranting" simply adds unnecessary bulk, and to add the plural is, well, more rant.
Do not try to put words into my mouth Dovina, my mouth is too full of teeth and my feet to fit your words.
This poem is about Bush's Jesus not Tony Blair's or yours. Right?
No, this is about my Jesus.
A humpbacked turd.
Much as it shames me to say so I find myself agreeing with you. A fully articulated humploaf.
Thereâs something in this poem for everyone. If Iâve left someone out, it was not from sluggardry, but ignorance. Christians are offended for obvious reasons; atheists for suggestion of a King; story lovers because it tells, never shows; poets because it omits the cherished poetic devices; humanists for stoicism; logicians for unsubstantiated claims, drunkards for seriousness; teetotalers for simplicity. Have I left anyone out? Oh, yes, me because itâs the way I see it. Appologies.
Your a colossal simpleton.
And congratulations on making up a world in which everyone is either a Christian, atheist, story lover, poet, humanist, logician, drunkard, or teetotaler. After a moment's consideration, I've decided this is what's wrong with all of your poetry.
So sorry to have omitted whatever category it is that you wish to be placed in. And of course your mockery of my insistence on categorizing everybody does in obvious fact categorize all of my poetry.
No it doesn't. In all seriousness, how can you be so dense?
At any rate, the point of my "mockery" was that you've created an absurdly small number of black-and-white categories to group everyone into. I'm for the creation of so many particularized categories that the term "categories" becomes useless for describing them. If I've "categorized" your poetry as "somewhat prone to describe everything in terms of a few rather extreme or polarized categories, so that almost every conclusion contained therein is wrong or simplified to absurdity, but not always," then I'm exactly in line with my philosophy, while you're a floundering guff.
Could you not see from my last entry, in which I omitted myself from any of the catagories, that my comment was a mockery of the idea of categories? You are the simpleton. You only look at the surface.
such truth. gave you a 9 since the damn jews killed him
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