Oklahoma City's own (self-designated) Poet Laureate, Matt McNeil, here presents three lyrical limericks on the recent election of Ratz of Die Hitlerjugend:
Rome's muckety-muck, yea, forsooth, But a tot when he joined Hitler's Youth. Now this mitered old Kraut, Filled with venom and gout, Is getting quite long in the tooth.
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Habeus papum, they say, Is the Latin catchphrase of the day. (Now, I don't know about you, but I'm off to the loo To barf up my lunch 'midst the fray.)
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Here's to the sign up in Rome -- that wisp of white smoke 'bove the dome. It just goes to show us A fact all know thus: There's a new superstitious old gnome.
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A Teuton named Joe, they all say, Was crowned Pope of Rome one fine day. He gave up his swastika To fight all the gnostica And to bring back the auto-da-fe.
WHAT APPEARS BELOW ARE POETIC ATTEMPTS TO LAMPOON RELIGION AND SUPERSTITION, SO BEWARE THAT YOU, AS A RELIGIOUS OR PERSON OF FAITH, MAY BE INSULTED BY THE SACRILEGE OF THE FOLLOWING AUTHORS. THESE PASSAGES ARE INTENDED TO INSULT THE UNQUESTIONING, UNTHINKING, PIOUS AND RELIGIOUS LONG NOSES OF ALL AGES IN THE HOPE OF JUMP- STARTING THEIR BRAIN TO SEE THE REALITY OF ALL NATURE THAT IS AROUND THEM !
BLUE SKIES . . . Or NOTHING!! (Feb. 16, 2003) by Ron Stauffer
INTIFADA! JIHAD! HOLY WAR! Enter the great pee'n contest. Enroll your religion now ! Which god is truly all mighty ? FATWA, or the terrible swift sword ?
Let us find out today ! Only one can be triumphant. Now, or--let's go one better : Why have a god at all? Learning is finding the way !
Shelve the emerging war ! This game we need not play. God, allah, skeptic; the last I think is sane. But the hour is late!
Too many believe in ghosts. Too many are clutched in fear. Sermons asking salvation, are thoughts self-serving, and an insult to the ear.
God(s) need nothing from us ! As we have always seen. The path is ours to make. Fear -- damn fear -- be away ! Planet Earth, hear my plea.
See the dark clouds mov'n? That has always been the way. But another day will dawn. Truly imagine, I say: Nothing but blue skies. . .
RELIGIONIS OMNIS SUGO (Feb. 15, 2003)
Ah, so arcane and soothing; nature's wonders simply explained. The early years of spoon fed homily; unquestioned aura of dark robed cant.
Pastoral sermons invoking love, Moral rectitude and penance On condition of blind faith; Likened to a quack's indolence.
Promising platitudes such as these Are offered across the land, With little differing policy; Like a belt--hand joined in hand.
Goodness, it seems, is cheap. But there is a price to pay. It is the demand of belief, Or at least a nod toward same
Offerings from the reverent bewilder the innocent, bringing chaos to those now confused. Holy commune, and real time mixed.
Nature, the Church: two different worlds. Enlightenment, repression--the two affords. The future, the past, are conflicting chords. With each sect, a new set of mores.
Believable as one shaman may seem, another stresses the Holy Mother. But God must still be believed. Believe the Spirit but not your brother!
"Which one?" I asked in my early years. "Mine," said one. "No, mine!" said the other. Inner strife mimics cultural clash. Confusion within and groups harass.
"The Truth is here!" "Not-so, 'tis here!"; Sense gives way to delusion. It's plain to see the shrinking world, brings contact and repulsion.
Ah! Faith in Him or faith in Them; Disdain reason for pie when you die. Disdain the now; expect better yet. Seems ungrateful and without fret!
How figure myth from "Truth," from fact? Ignorance applauded; a great learning a trap! Too many questions the vicar finds upsetting; Yet, that is our nature and our flash!
Fear, the murky base, where religion springs. Satan and evil, the Church has defined: young minds are stamped--so sublime. Unquestioning bliss, so safe, so fine.
Faith is required but has no bounds. Mountains could move if faith were more sound. Children could be cured if belief more strong, And despots destroyed without firing a round.
Believe all this, then I'll sell you a bridge; Across the East River to sacrilege. If faith trumps fact, earth stands on its head. If myth wins out, we're all to dread!
But the clash of faiths Will keep reason alive; For therein lies the answer to why religion should be denied.
Reason is Nature's gift to Man. No way can holy writ compare to the laws of science, the cosmos, and the bounty of the land.
So clear the allowance of reason; so muddled the beggings of prayer! Clear thoughts are a fresh breeze; unlike expectation ending in despair.
Wondrous, facile cognizance versus internecine breast beating. Indifferent, neutral science versus petty, hand-wringing self-service.
The shadow world of suspicion v. the free world of vision. The future gives us hope, though now we hardly cope.
And if the above is not obvious then consider today's despair: Youth's mentors indicted for deviant sexual affairs.
Abraham's male offspring are at each other's throats. God's perfect plan flailing by incongruous stalwarts.
Perfect and clear science Pooh-poohed by the vatican. Happiness, a rare allowance, still snubbed by theologian.
Ecclesiastical curmudgery, A creeping melancholy. But among us heretics. Tran- quillity though we be unholy
Whence happiness were rare can be the norm, so fair. The gift is not from above, But from within, so dare!
Nine /eleven, a disaster--yes! Pay-back long due some say. Urban the II would confess: his dictum in 1095--a dark day!
Popes pray for peace today; back then, false sects fair prey. Power then, inefficacy now-- the Holy See's in decay.
Now we have come full circle; what then was decreed. Religion's hypocrisy, Through nose we pay ingloriously!
PEACE, NOW, FOREVER! the Easter message from Rome. But how can this ever be, With Urban the II's hypocrisy? The Churches', the temples' hypocrisy!
