Corkscrews From Cement by Dennis Allen Lange

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It’s strange how twisted becomes the thinking of men
When their hearts are hardened in the depth of their sin.

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photo by Lars Sundstrom at
http://www.rgbstock.com/photo/mif2Y6C/knot+of+a+kind

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© Dennis Allen Lange and thebardonthehill.wordpress.com, 2017.

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Sonnet 75 – The Democratic Party by Dennis Allen Lange

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The unions still support because of greed;
The homos do, since by it they are blessed.
For power, it will make the nation bleed,
And even die so long as they are best. 

A shrill excuse and welfare sugarcoat,
A promise made to ope’ the nation’s store,
And greed-deceived, the Party buys their vote.
Then, at the ballot box, they play the whore. 

They’ll save the trees; they’re green – and kill the child,
The babe within that says you’re not your own,
That you can’t do all that you wish, be wild.
They’ll raise you up and take God from the throne. 

With sin the soul, and selfishness the core,
It ain’t your parents’ party any more.

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© Dennis Allen Lange and thebardonthehill.wordpress.com, 2017.

 

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My Evening Prayer by Charles H. Gabriel

If I have wounded any soul today,
If I have caused one foot to go astray,
If I have walked in my own willful way –
…….Good Lord, forgive! 

If I have uttered idle words or vain,
If I have turned aside from want or pain,
Lest I myself should suffer through the strain –
…….Good Lord, forgive! 

If I have craved for joys that are not mine,
If I have let my wayward heart repine,
Dwelling on things of earth, not things divine –
…….Good Lord, forgive!

If I have been perverse, or hard, or cold,
If I have longed for shelter in Thy fold,
When Thou hast given me some part to hold –
…….Good Lord, forgive!

Forgive the sins I have confessed to Thee,
Forgive the secret sins I do not see,
That which I know not, Father, teach Thou me –
…….Help me to live.

 

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The Hell-Bound Train – anonymous

A Texas cowboy lay down on a barroom floor,
Having drunk so much he could drink no more;
So he fell asleep with a troubled brain
To dream that he rode on a hell-bound train.

The engine with murderous blood was damp
And was brilliantly lit with a brimstone lamp;
An imp, for fuel, was shoveling bones,
While the furnace rang with a thousand groans.

The boiler was filled with lager beer
And the devil himself was the engineer;
The passengers were a most motley crew –
Church member, atheist, Gentile, and Jew,

Rich men in broadcloth, beggars in rags,
Handsome young ladies, and withered old hags,
Yellow and black men, red, brown, and white,
All chained together – O God, what a sight!

While the train rushed on at an awful pace –
The sulphurous fumes scorched their hands and face;
Wider and wider the country grew,
As faster and faster the engine flew.

Louder and louder the thunder crashed
And brighter and brighter the lightning flashed;
Hotter and hotter the air became
Till the clothes were burned from each quivering frame.

And out of the distance there arose a yell,
“Ha ha,” said the devil, “we’re nearing hell!”
Then oh, how the passengers all shrieked with pain
And begged the devil to stop the train.

But he capered about and danced for glee,
And laughed and joked at their misery.
“My faithful friends, you have done the work
And the devil never can a payday shirk.

“You’ve bullied the weak, you’ve robbed the poor,
The starving brother you’ve turned from the door;
You’ve laid up gold where the canker rust,
And have given free vent to your beastly lust.

“You’ve justice scorned, and corruption sown,
And trampled the laws of nature down.
You have drunk, rioted, cheated, plundered, and lied,
And  mocked at God in your hell-born pride.

“You have paid full fare, so I’ll carry you through,
For it’s only right you should have your due.
Why the laborer always expects his hire,
So I’ll land you safe in the lake of fire,

“Where you flesh will waste in the flames that roar,
And my imps torment you forevermore.”
Then the cowboy awoke with an anguished cry,
His clothes wet with sweat and his hair standing high.

Then he prayed as he never had prayed till that hour
To be saved from his sin and the demon’s power;
And his prayers and his vows were not in vain,
For he never rode the hell-bound train.

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*I must say that one does not become a Christian by
saying a “sinner’s prayer”.  Unfortunately, that is something
from the devil as well.

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Rotten Nations by Dennis Allen Lange

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When senators are sin-ators,
…Vice presidents are vice,
When governors are minotaurs,
…And trusted leaders lice,

Consider well spoiled milk you drink –
…It’s rotten at the top.
You take a sip; you smell the stink,
…And then your drinking stop.

But at the bottom of the well,
…Where you disdained to go
The stink and spoil there also dwell,
…E’en in the common Joe.

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photo by Michal Zacharzewski at
http://www.rgbstock.com/photo/noSU8yC/Rotten+apples

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© Dennis Allen Lange and thebardonthehill.wordpress.com, 2017.

 

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You Weren’t Born That Way by Dennis Lange

You had no breasts, and thought you’d be a man?
…One called you queer, and thus it must be so?
…Your voice was high, testosterone was low?
…The men were always yes, the girls said no?
You had the thoughts, and with those thoughts you ran?
…Your mother was your father or reverse?
You thought that sex was love and love was sex?
…Whate’er the cause, your choices made it worse.
You took the sinful way, ignoring all the checks.

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© Dennis Lange and thebardonthehill.wordpress.com, 2016.

 

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The Agony by George Herbert

…Philosophers have measured mountains,
Fathomed the depths of seas, of states, and kings,
Walked with a staff to heav’n, and traced fountains;
…But there are two vast, spacious things,
The which to measure it doth more behove:
Yet few there are that sound them; Sin and Love. 

…Who would know Sin, let him repair
Unto Mount Olivet; there shall he see
A man so wrung with pains, that all his hair,
…His skin, his garments bloody be.
Sin is that press and vice, which forceth pain
To hunt his cruel food through ev’ry vein. 

…Who knows not Love, kept him assay
And taste that juice, which on the cross a pike
Did set again abroach; then let him say
…If ever he did taste the like.
Love is that liquor sweet and most divine,
Which my God feels as blood; but I, as wine.

 

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Sonnet 77 – Sin Is A Reproach To Any People

Our fate is sealed; gone is the rule of law.
The court has taken on itself a role
Of changing words to legislate; its claw
So proud in reason as it takes control.

The source that gives it power is ignored –
It does not matter what a word might say,
Nor that its range is roped – it cuts the cord.
It bends words since it feels a certain way.

We are a Sodom waiting for the fire,
Gomorrah for the brimstone’s choking smell.
We’re tolerant of sin because the choir
We’re singing in wears robes that come from hell.

God’s holy Court will soon in judgment sit
And lowly court will get its final writ.

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Prov.14:34 Righteousness exalts a nation, but sin
…is a reproach to any people.

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© Dennis Lange and thebardonthehill.wordpress.com, 2015.

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Adam’s Rib by Dennis Lange

………………..Adam’s Rib

There once was the first man, named Adam,
Who had everything but a Madam.
…So God took a rib,
…And it would be a fib
To say he didn’t wish he still had ‘im.

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© Dennis Lange and thebardonthehill.wordpress.com, 2015.

 

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Darkness by Dennis Lange

 

……………..Darkness

The lights blink out in this dark world;
…A viral blackness spread
By a contagion devil-hurled,
…With hearts its breeding bed.

The darkness never knows the light;
…The two can’t co-exist.
Night’s never day, day never night;
…Impossible a tryst.

Before light, darkness has no might;
…A distant glimpse – it flees.
It cannot offer any fight,
…Nor beg upon its knees.

The dark compares itself to night,
…And rates itself quite high.
For blackness thinks that it is white
…Since light is never nigh.

The Lord God’s like the brightest day,
…No shadow or a cloud
Moves o’er His just and holy way.
…No darkness is allowed.

So men who love the darkness flee;
…They hide till He appears.
They will His brightness briefly see,
…Then evermore shed tears.

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© Dennis Lange and thebardonthehill.wordpress.com, 2014.

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