A LITTLE BOY LOST

  "Nought loves another as itself,
  Nor venerates another so,
  Nor is it possible to thought
  A greater than itself to know:

  "And Father, how can I love you
  Or any of my brothers more?
  I love you like the little bird
  That picks up crumbs around the door."

  The Priest sat by and heard the child,
  In trembling zeal he seiz'd his hair:
  He led him by his little coat,
  And all admir'd the priestly care.

  And standing on the altar high,
  "Lo! what a fiend is here!" said he,
  "One who sets reason up for judge
  Of our most holy Mystery."

  The weeping child could not be heard,
  The weeping parents were in vain;
  They strip'd him to his little shirt,
  And bound him in an iron chain;

  And burn'd him in a holy place,
  Where many had been burn'd before:
  The weeping parents wept in vain.
  Are such things done on Albion's* shore?        * England's

       - William Blake, from "Songs of Experience"


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  THE GARDEN OF LOVE

  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 over the door;
  So I turn'd 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 joy and desires.


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The indian dances, and the sky rents asunder;
bringing forth wind, rain, and thunder.

The wizard speaks in tounges to cast his spell.
Using his magic, dragons fell.

The witch concots her evil brew;
bat's wings, and toad skins in her stew.

The quiet channeler calls forth past lives;
some being great men (others, past wives).

The priest says "Hocus Pocus" and draws great crowds.
Some discuss the holiness and powers of shrouds.

Upon studying these events, we make a choice (which may be quite funny);
either mystical powers are at work, or they're all after money.


Matt Briggs     34L4F3X@CMUVM.bitnet


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Come all ya good Americans
the loyal brave and true.
Lets wrap ourselves completely
in the old red, white and blue.
For Jesus and free enterprise
we must prepare the way,
and anyone who does not heed
must be prepared to pay.

Have a nice day.
Have a nice day.
Don't heed those words of wickedness
that might lead you astray.
See here and speak no evil.
Just work real hard and pray.
God loves you and he hopes you'll
have a nice day.

We can't abide with welfare,
or believe in poverty,
because this nation is the land of
opportunity.
If you're lazy weak or stupid,
ya might not make the grade,
but why should we support you
with the money we have made?

Have a nice day.
Have a nice day.
Don't heed those words of wickedness
that might lead you astray.
See here and speak no evil.
Just work real hard and pray.
God loves you and he hopes you'll
have a nice day.

We believe in conservation,
and we'll do all that we can
to manage our resources for the
benefit of man.
And we believe the judgement day
is coming with all haste,
and anything that we don't use
will then have gone to waste.

Have a nice day.
Have a nice day.
Don't heed those words of wickedness
that might lead you astray.
See here and speak no evil.
Just work real hard and pray.
God loves you and he hopes you'll
have a nice day.

We believe in the creation.
Evolution is a sham,
and for you awful humanists
we do not give a damn.
Cause we believe in science
when the word of god agrees,
and we believe in science
that destroys our enemies.

Have a nice day.
Have a nice day.
Don't heed those words of wickedness
that might lead you astray.
See here and speak no evil.
Just work real hard and pray.
God loves you and he hopes you'll
have a nice day.

                                Mark Graham (Natural Selections Album)


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     A Coney Island of the Mind

Sometime during eternity
some guys show up
and one of them who shows up
real late
is a carpenter
from some square type place
like Galilee

And he starts wailing
and claiming he's hip
to who made heaven and earth
and that the cat who really laid it on us
is his dad

Moreover, he adds
it's all writ down on some scroll type parchments
which some henchmen leave lying around
the dead sea somewheres
and which won't even be found
for a couple of thousand years
or so

and even then
no one believes them
or me
for that matter

You're Hot
the tell him
so they cool him
they stretch him on the Tree
to cool

and everybody after that
is always making models
of this Tree
with him hung up
and crooning his name
and calling him to come down
from his Tree
and sit in on their combo
as if he is the king cat
who's got to blow
or they can't quite make it

Only him don't come down
from his Tree
him just hang there
looking real cool
and a little petered out

and according to a roundup
of the late world news
....real DEAD.

                        by Lawrence Ferlinghetti (sp?)
                        (The Beat Generation)


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A fun little poem I found:


     A pretty maid, a Protestant, was to a Catholic wed;
    To love all Bible truths and tales, quite early she'd been bred
     It sorley grieved her husband's heart that she would not comply,
    And join the Mother Church of Rome and heretics deny.

    So day by day he flattered her, but still she saw no good
   Would ever come from bowing down to idols made of wood.
    The Mass, the host, the miracles, were made but to decieve;
   And transubstantiation, too, she'd never dare believe.

    He went to see his clergyman and told him his sad tale.
   "My wife is an unveliever, sir; you can perhaps prevail;
    For all your Romish miracles my wife has strong aversion,
   To really work a miracle may lead to her conversion.

     The priest went with the gentleman-he thought to gain a prize.
    He said, "I will convert her, sir, and open both her eyes."
     So when they came into the house, the husband loudly cried,
    "The priest has come to dine with us!" "He's welcome," she replied.

     And when, at last, the meal was o'er, the priest at once began,
    To teach his hostess all about the sinful state of man;
     The greatness of our Saviour's love, which Christians can't deny,
    To give Himself a sacrifice and for our sins to die.

     "I will return tommorow, lass, prepare some bread and wine;
    The sacramental miracle will stop you (sic) soul's decline."
     "I'll bake the bread," the lady said.  "You may," he did reply,
    "and when you've seen this miracle, convinced you'll be, say I."

     The priest did come accordingly, the bread and wine did bless,
    The lady asked, "Sir, is it changed?"  The priest answered, "Yes,
     It's changed from common bread and wine to truly flesh and blood;
    Begorra, lass, this power of mine has changed it into God!"

     So having blessed the bread and wine, to eat they did prepare.
    The lady said unto the priest, "I warn you to take care,
     For half an ounce of arsenic was mixed right in the batter,
    But since you have its nature changed, it cannot really matter."

     The priest was struck real dumb-he looked as pale as death.
    The bread and wine fell from his hands and he did gasp for breath.
     "Bring me my horse!" the priest cried, "This is a cursed home!"
    The lady replied, "Begone; tis you who shares the curse of Rome."

     The husband, too, he sat surprised, and not a word did say.
    At length he spoke, "My dear," said he, "the priest has run away;
     To gulp such mummery and tripe, I'm not for sure, quite able;
    I'll go with you and we'll renounce this Roman Catholic fable."

                                                Author Unknown


*From "Babylon Mystery Religion", 1966, by Ralph Woodrow, page 125.

     A decidedly "anti"-Catholic religion book, to be sure; but it
it seems like an excellent skeptical test, no?


Matt Briggs     34L4F3X@CMUVM.bitnet