Wednesday, September 26, 2012
One day the poor man found a note nailed to his door. The note was an invitation to a feast at the rich mans mansion. Bewildered but happy the poor man made his way the many miles to the rich mans house and knocked on the door. Inside were many rich men and women who received their wealth and prosperity by the good graces of the rich merchant.
The poor man was led to a room to meet with the rich merchant. Once inside, the merchant closed the door and, pulling a pistol from his waistband said,"get on your knees. Worship me. Love me or I will kill you".
The gentle poor man lowered himself to his knees and declared his worship and love for the rich merchant. The merchant called all his friends into the room and declared, "see. See how he loves me. See how he worships me", and all his friends sang words of praise to the merchant.
But inside the mind of the poor man was the thought that if not for the gun, he would kill the merchant without thought or remorse.
That is the way of religion. The only love comes from the fear of death.
Tuesday, January 10, 2012
TO LOVE HIM.
BY Jim Bronaugh. 2012.
Laura at that moment
“return, return, return”.
But there could be no return.
He fell without showing a movement.
A shocking sadness of sight.
Finality as surfaces met.
The coldness in Laura was instant
Her bowels her stomach betrayed.
A death more painful than death.
Two men, gunslingers, face frozen
but the weapon lay dead on the floor.
Understanding spoke loud from her bleeding.
With firmness but kindness they moved her
more came, with swiftness they moved
staunching the work of his madness
The scars on the outside were minor
compared to the longing inside
alone to never love another
when suddenly eyes were upon her
a smile with a glint, like steel
like the face she had loved before