SatanPerhaps one of the most widely recognizable and debatable characters of Christianity is one who is not the central focus at all—an angel fallen from Heaven for the sin of pride, who has been around since the Jewish beginnings of the religion. He has been known by many names through the years, each with its own slightly different association. He was Satan the adversary, Mastema the accusing angel, Duma meaning "silence", Beelzebub who is the god of the flies, Lucifer the Morning Star, Sammael, and many other names (Davidson, 185, 99, 72). Yet though he has been around for centuries, the concept of what exactly Satan is and what ideas he embodies has changed greatly, influenced by linguistics, politics, culture, and art.
In the beginning there was the Adversary. In the books of Numbers and Job, satan is far from the character an average modern Christian would recognize. Instead, he is an obedient servant of God; an angel who acts as messenger and does God's bidding. Satan is not a name;
Changing GearsMy morning oats taste particularly bland this morning. I look outside the clouded windows and see the city across every inch of my vision. Buildings of all shapes and sizes are formed from copper, brass, and iron. At all times of the day, the city's Gears are churning.Changing Gears2 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
The Gears are the machines that run the city, the country, possibly even the entire world. Metals are formed together to form them, robotic men designed to replace our government. Their voices boom over the industrial noises of the factories and drown seem to drown out all individual conversations. We're free, I suppose, but they all say that there was once a time when freedom was all we had.
Across the street, I see Thayoden. He's a boy who works in the aircraft factory, constructing engines and attaching steering wheels and dials to bi-planes. I met him in Industry class when we were both eleven years old. Ever since then, we've grown apart, but I still see him and think of how much I miss being with him. But we're dif
.With My Wings..With My Wings.11 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
With my wings,
I soar to new heights
Seeing things others cannot.
I am the eagle, I am the hawk,
I am the one that can fly.
With my wings
I find my love
in everything that loves me.
My heart flies alongside me,
as I court and wheel in the sky.
With my wings, I can fly
With my Wings.
© Mindy Sherwood 2004
PhoenixPhoenix11 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
The phoenix is my symbol
It is my sign
For it is my strength
My souls twine
For I am the phoenix
I am the fire
Death and rebirth
In me is one pyre
In flame immortal
My soul consumes
The universal power
Through which life blooms
For I am a god
I am life
My glory be crowned
Naught rage I with strife
(c)2004 Joseph Palladino
icp 666Juggalette for life!!! whoop whoop! *CLOWN LOVE* i love you all, except for all tha fucking haters!!!!!!!!! STFUicp 6666 years ago in Songs & Lyrics More Like This
When i die show no pity
Send my soul to the juggalo city
Dig my grave six feet deep
Put two matches by my feet
Put two hatchets on my chest
Then tell my homies i did my best.
Juggalos,Juggalettes and Stoners repost
NORMAL FRIENDS: Never ask for FAYGO.
JUGGALO FRIENDS: are the reason you have no FAYGO.
NORMAL FRIENDS: Call your parents Mr/Mrs.
JUGGALO FRIENDS: Call your parents DAD/MOM.
NORMAL FRIENDS: bail you out of jail and tell you what you did was wrong.
JUGGALO FRIENDS: Would be sitting next to you sayin "Damn ... we fucked up ... but that shit was fun!"
NORMAL FRIENDS: never seen you cry.
JUGGALO FRIENDS: cry with you.
NORMAL FRIENDS: Borrow your stuff for a few days then give it back.
JUGGALO FRIENDS: keep your shit so long they forget its yours.
NORMAL FRIENDS: know a few things about you.
JUGGALO FRIENDS: Could write a book about you with direct quotes from you.
KnowledgeIn a fever dream, black dooms descendingKnowledge3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
He lies rapt in stupor.
The windows tilt from his halo, the dry
heat ticking, each death rattle measures light into
reflections- form a periscope. One eye is all
that is needed to see. People
stutter along streets, gloom draped. Voices
soften and stretch, heard through memory and dreaming-
one hundred shadowy watchers meld to tarmac. Only one enters.
Yard lights convulse, scald twilit moments, birds
settling on flares. He blinks,
old as time- skin a coral of waxes, leather from his own glow. Eyes,
molten yolks still glimmer beneath lids, fat sunken. She watches,
notes of orange blossom form
a noose: all her palettes collide. She mothers
all earth- cannot . A beginning with no end, future, past.
Roots run transatlantic, languages bud- tiredness. Immortal,
he doesn't breathe.
He wakes to light dappled through glass and birch.
He was the oldest and the first,
his house heavy with rotting decades. TV
translated static into prayers, sun-blea
DethklokRising with angst from the depths of Hell.Dethklok7 years ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
With gruesome looks and most putrid smell.
They walk to the beat of a double-bass drum.
With festering wounds from the guitars they strum.
Sent to spread havok by the most evil Devil.
In the form of bone crushing, brutal Death Metal.
The music begins and your skin starts to peel.
Ripping and burning till' you no longer feel.
As your head explodes they strike a grin.
The breakdown starts and sucks you in.
You now are a robot to the Devils machine.
You can be evil, or dead, there's no in-between.
You fall to your knees, they cannot be stopped!
HAIL! The all powerful, immortal, DETHKLOK.