My golden calf before me.
Sit I do sometimes for days
Worship your images - chair style pew.
Your idols are the being and way.
The religion cast to all and few.
Idol hours spent with you.
My heaven - hand on cue.
Many gods you bring to me.
They cross the mighty sea.
Cruise ships like Noah - receive.
Is it satan's true religion? ? ?
The other channel shows division.
One more turn of the cue.
I'm in a church - MARK 2.
Such a question in all life.
What do I really worship?
Are they my gods or slapstick? ? ?
YET - there on the big chair.
The one with the fluffy, fuzzy hair.
My simple BIBLE talking to me.
from DREAMS 3
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem