Tag Archives: Religion

homer shrugged

so the strongman fashioned another straw man
tilted at fabrications of discourse and taboo
pain, meanwhile, yielded to another hurricane
a hierarchy that deigns to explain away my own

i’m forever to be grateful or else don’t you know
they stranded themselves on virtue without a mountain
pontificated o’er the ears and eyes they’d shat upon
that were fatally struck dumb by the gift of tongues

but i’ll sing it from the depths don’t you know
of all i think i know, of all i think i don’t
maybe i’ll live and die like this alone
but i’ll not die on my knees in order to appease

by TONY SINGLE
© All rights reserved 2022

dog in the manger

no one cares in this world of tyrants
of sycophants and bended knee
how deep goes the well inside of me
and if my bucket is full of holes

the finger of god daubed my soul o’er pain
and it’s making me want to dissolve again
into blest relief from his violent ways
away from nephilim and the sons of earth

i swear the day will come
when y’all will forget about me
for too long have i given life
the benefit of the doubt

the ox and horse cannot eat the hay
dead baby jesus bestrews the manger
a doggerel gospel for the hateful pious
and mongrels returning to their vomit

i swear the day will come
when y’all had better forget about me
for too long have i given life
the benefit of the doubt

by TONY SINGLE
© All rights reserved 2022

PERFECTION IN ACTION // Hard to be Turd

I lifted the seat lid and peeped inside.

“Do you really think you’re the main cheese here?” I asked, shaking my fist into the darkness.

“Yes.” The voice was calm, deep. “I was here before your Father was a tiny seed.”

“But you’re poo?” I’d meant that as a statement of fact. “How could you exist before Father? It isn’t possible.”

“I’m the Perfect and Mighty Poo. The Cycle of Life. The Alpha and Omega.”

I shrugged, and then flushed.

Someone knocked. “Oh, I’m sorry, are you occupied?”

“Nah.” I wiped my hands then reached for the door. “I’m done.”

by TETIANA ALEKSINA & TONY SINGLE
© All rights reserved 2021

TATI’s & TONY’s DEAD POET TOUR // The Gods Are Dead? by William Ernest Henley

The gods are dead? Perhaps they are! Who knows?
Living at least in Lempriere undeleted,
The wise, the fair, the awful, the jocose,
Are one and all, I like to think, retreated
In some still land of lilacs and the rose.

Once high they sat, and high o’er earthly shows
With sacrificial dance and song were greeted.
Once . . . long ago. But now, the story goes,
The gods are dead.

It must be true. The world, a world of prose,
Full-crammed with facts, in science swathed and sheeted,
Nods in a stertorous after-dinner doze!
Plangent and sad, in every wind that blows
Who will may hear the sorry words repeated:-
‘The Gods are Dead!’

by WILLIAM ERNEST HENLEY (1849-1903)
Public Domain Poetry

SOAPBOX TNT // Tooty Frooty

TATI: Tony, I have found your dream job!

TONY: Is there even such a thing? Work is work after all.

TATI: It’s something you already do for free every day. But now you can get money and respect for it!

TONY: What? Sleeping?

TATI: Nope. Any other ideas?

TONY: Chewing? I chew a lot when I eat food.

TATI: Getting hotter…

TONY: Why, thank you! I always try to look my best…

TATI: Don’t flatter yourself, beta male.

TONY: Well, twist my titties. That was rude!

TATI: Tony, are you going to keep guessing or pout like a little sissy?

TONY: Masturbate?

TATI: Let me just show you the link, because I’m almost scared to hear your next suggestion.

TONY: Wise!

Priest farts on church members as a display of “God’s power”

TATI: So, what do you think? Would you like to schedule a job interview? Or maybe ‘audition’ in this case?

TONY: I don’t think so. I mean, farts do not have magical healing properties.

TATI: Some consider smelling farts as healthy by the way. But I’d rather continue to take care of my health with more traditional means.

Lovely Smells

Is Smelling Farts Healthy? Research Says Maybe

TONY: Yes, me too. I don’t think I want some ‘holy man’ getting all flatulent with my face in the name of some all-powerful ‘god’. I mean, what a crock of shit!

TATI: Well… let’s back to the farting priest. I find it’s rather funny but I feel you may have another point of view as a former believer. May I ask what you think regarding this?

TONY: Believe me, I do see the humour in this as the whole scenario is rather absurd. Someone pretending to have a direct line to a god then demonstrating said god’s power by farting on people? Those are the ingredients for absurdist comedy right there. But I do kinda find it sad too.

TATI: I see. Do you feel cheated, ridiculed?

TONY: While I was certainly never taken in by a scam like this, I was still a member of a christian church for about twenty years. That turned out to be a huge mistake, and I’ve spent the last decade trying to shed the mindset that such a religious culture programs into you.

TATI: So, they didn’t fart on your face, but in your brains.

TONY: Exactly. I was so desperate to fit in with my chosen ‘family’ that I was more than willing to try and believe whatever nonsensical bible story or precept they presented. Talking snakes and donkeys. A boat full of the entire world’s animals. A loving god that sanctioned incest, genocides and slavery. The cognitive dissonance was strong with me.

TATI: I heard an interesting thought recently, that certain linguistic anthropologists think religion is a language virus that rewrites pathways in the brain, dulling critical thinking. So, in regards to what you’re saying… it really makes sense.

TONY: I don’t know if that’s necessarily true of religious people across the board, but it certainly was with me. So, in that sense there is a ring of truth to it.

TATI: I’m glad you have since ventilated your brain. But it looks like now we need to ventilate our room. Tony?

TONY: That wasn’t me! It must have been you!

TATI: Me?! No!

TONY: Well, then it must have been the dog. Or Gerald the Fart Fairy.

TATI: Let’s say it was the priest from Limpopo!

TONY: Yes, let’s say it was that charlatan, for that is indeed what he is. And I despise such people. He’s really no better than the Benny Hinns, Paula Whites and Kenneth Copelands of the evangelical world. He just exists on a smaller scale is all.

TATI: Benny Hill was a priest?

TONY: If only! I think Hinn’s healing services could’ve been more entertaining if they’d utilised under-cranked footage of parishioners being slain in the spirit to Boots Randolph’s ‘Yakety Sax‘.

TATI: I smell your outrage, Tony. Well… our time would be better spent taking the dog for a walk.

TONY: We have a dog?

TATI: Gotcha!

by TETIANA ALEKSINA & TONY SINGLE
© All rights reserved 2021