A poem just one of many
5-16-07
I started out by calling Him Father,
And used His sacred Names.
I told Him that I loved Him much,
And didn't want no games.
Why did you make us, Father,
If you had to put us through the Fire?
And why did you make Satan,
And why did he become a liar?
He lingered there, for a moment,
He looked at me with care,
He scratched His head in Spirit,
And stroked His Spiritual hair.
He looked into my mental,
I felt His words appear,
And He begin to answer me,
At first it made me fear.
When I made the Spirit to man,
His flesh was not yet made,
So the things that people read,
In my mind, are mislaid.
So when I put you through the Fire,
You were not in this form,
It was times of Fire and Ice,
And, a global storm.
The Spirit of man is, many things,
Not just flesh and blood,
But really folks, think of this,
We are just dust and mud.
So in the stories inspired to man,
Of Death, of Hate, or fear,
I'd like to make you understand,
The blame is mine, it's clear.
But in giving you agency,
The form of man's free will,
It's you and your mankind,
Who pleasures in the kill.
Ultimately, I am to blame,
Because I love you much,
But even I cannot lie to you,
I give life and death, by touch.
But if you knew there is no Death,
And life is always there,
You would not react my friend,
And that would not be fair.
I have a mission for you all,
So fear me please, no more,
Because my loving children,
I'm not so mean or sore.
As life has sprung from its start,
And things seem so bad,
Well, I want you to stop calling Me Father,
And start to call Me Dad.
And the Reason I made Satan,
And praised his light on High,
Was to check his attitude,
Knowing he'd ask me why.
And when he did, I did explain,
He just didn't understand,
He kept wanting more and more,
And took it out on man.
He knew he could lie to us,
And he did it well,
And because we're unaware,
He would never tell.
So my Son, I tell to you,
I will always care,
But please remember this, from Me,
Life's not always fair!
Knowman
Poetry by Donald Thornton
Read 482 times
Written on 2011-04-30 at 23:50
Save as a bookmark (requires login)
Write a comment (requires login)
Send as email (requires login)
Print text
Knowman's Interview With God
Knowman's Interview With God5-16-07
I started out by calling Him Father,
And used His sacred Names.
I told Him that I loved Him much,
And didn't want no games.
Why did you make us, Father,
If you had to put us through the Fire?
And why did you make Satan,
And why did he become a liar?
He lingered there, for a moment,
He looked at me with care,
He scratched His head in Spirit,
And stroked His Spiritual hair.
He looked into my mental,
I felt His words appear,
And He begin to answer me,
At first it made me fear.
When I made the Spirit to man,
His flesh was not yet made,
So the things that people read,
In my mind, are mislaid.
So when I put you through the Fire,
You were not in this form,
It was times of Fire and Ice,
And, a global storm.
The Spirit of man is, many things,
Not just flesh and blood,
But really folks, think of this,
We are just dust and mud.
So in the stories inspired to man,
Of Death, of Hate, or fear,
I'd like to make you understand,
The blame is mine, it's clear.
But in giving you agency,
The form of man's free will,
It's you and your mankind,
Who pleasures in the kill.
Ultimately, I am to blame,
Because I love you much,
But even I cannot lie to you,
I give life and death, by touch.
But if you knew there is no Death,
And life is always there,
You would not react my friend,
And that would not be fair.
I have a mission for you all,
So fear me please, no more,
Because my loving children,
I'm not so mean or sore.
As life has sprung from its start,
And things seem so bad,
Well, I want you to stop calling Me Father,
And start to call Me Dad.
And the Reason I made Satan,
And praised his light on High,
Was to check his attitude,
Knowing he'd ask me why.
And when he did, I did explain,
He just didn't understand,
He kept wanting more and more,
And took it out on man.
He knew he could lie to us,
And he did it well,
And because we're unaware,
He would never tell.
So my Son, I tell to you,
I will always care,
But please remember this, from Me,
Life's not always fair!
Knowman
Poetry by Donald Thornton
Read 482 times
Written on 2011-04-30 at 23:50
Save as a bookmark (requires login) Write a comment (requires login) Send as email (requires login) Print text
