"Money, Money, Money!"

Money, money, money! Dollar Almighty!
Early in the morning we’ll rise to worship Thee;
Money, money, money! Mammon is our king!
Root of all evil, is our love for Thee.

Money, money, money! ‘Mericans adore Thee,
Spending all our savings earned and only bills paying;
Credit cards and financing, interest compounding,
Which did, and is, will evermore unfree.

Money, money, money! Though our kids are blessings,
Though they will inherit ours, their futures may not be;
Fleeting Thou art, money, there is none for giving—
You sprouted wings and too soon flew: cha-ching!

Money, money, money! Dollar Almighty!
Sinful beings all strive for Thee in morn, and noon, and eve;
Money, money, money! Dollar Almighty!
"god" in whom we trust, yet this oughtn’t be.

---

adapted from "Holy, Holy, Holy! Lord God Almighty"
Public Domain

"Light Of The World"

Like blind salamanders, we were all born
Into a world of nothing but darkness:
Going to and fro, stumbling all the more,
Held captive by a tempter most heartless;

To ever grope about, a life of scorn,
Oft falling into dread sarcophagus;
For clothes, it’s rags, already tattered, worn
Thro’ to reveal our shameful nakedness;

How to see, to grow? How to fin’lly shine,
Exit this awful and cavernous maw?
We can’t ever even begin to be;

Our only hope, the only way to thrive,
Rests solely with one who paints every dawn;
Lord Jesus, you are the One, you are He:
Died and buried; then suddenly alive!

"Thirty Silver Coins"

My pocket sags
—the weight of my plan

Jingle, jangle

A mob follows me
I know their intent
—And I agree

After all, he's wasted so much

Can't believe he didn't stop that...
     ...woman!
     That perfume!
     So many could have eaten
He deserves this

He's here, right where I expected
—excellent!
I greet him
—a friendly kiss

"Swords and spears?"
Violence! An ear!
He heals
He submits
We turn, they flee

My pocket sags
—the weight of my plan

Jingle, jangle

In the distance, a rooster crows
A soul moans
Some poor wretch is guilty

Guilty?
What have I done?
"Take it back!"

Clinkle, clangle

My pocket is lighter
My heart bears a millstone

I should have spilled my guts;
Instead, I'll hang my head
—and spill my guts

Dingle. Dangle.

"Poison Ivy"

Puffy,
Oily,
Inflamed
Skin—
Oh,
Nemesis...

Itchy
Vengeance
Yours!

"Boredom"

Bowed
Over,
Repeating
Endless
Doldrums
Of
Midafternoon