The Custodian
The argument they made
Is they know prophecy.
They’ve known; they’ve been expecting
The cries of heresy.
They don’t deny the last days
Are written in the book.
But since the Bible’s flawed
Why waste the time to look?
They claim that they have written it,
That they’ve met the Messiah …
They point to how us Christians
Are now the world’s pariah.
The priests and prophets assembled …
Have studied all their lines …
But they have not outstudied me.
‘In fire I’ve been refined:
A supernatural journey
Not dreaming but awake;
At five or six I thought
My mind would surely break
And I assumed that children,
All children everywhere
Endured like me this conscious hell
Which paled to mere nightmares.
And so, without my knowing it
I threw myself at God
To free myself from night terrors
And not seem quite so odd
When I concluded in my mind
That God did not cause these
That life had too much beauty
To do these things to me
The visions went away
And then I learned to sleep.
I did not know that I
Would have promises to keep.
The ever stalking faces
Came for me one by one
And leered and jeered at me
Indeed, ‘twas no damned fun …
But when I knew the Creator
Of beauty, truth and flowers
And not created these nights of woe
Which seemed to last for hours
I felt the greatest peace
And learned more than I thought.
My life as been a failure …
Till now has come to naught.
It gave me peace to know
Jesus, he suffered, too
To prove that evil devours, not God
Above all, evil’s shrewd.
And hurts the innocent
Is wicked, cruel, unkind
And only because God let them in
Did evil enter my mind.
I’m a custodian.
Shy, happy, reserved
A dutiful Christian
With very little nerve.
I love my little job
At the church where I live
Willing to befriend the poor
Ready to forgive
I work around the clock
So that I might have time
To do the thing that I love most
To exercise my mind.
My screen a window on the world
The great scroll, it is opened
Information, to and fro
But then a dead end
My study and my research
Has made the bishop fume
And I’ve been told to stop
My studies in my room
They wish to pull the plug
On my personal library
They say that my conclusions
Are fanciful and heresy
But I know turning tables
For I am vigilant
And I know what the book says
And keep me quiet, they can’t
But then the bishop sent two men
To work as priests and spies
And they befriended me at first
But soon, kind words were lies
They found my presentation
Which I am bound to make
To quiet me, they’ll have to pierce
My old heart with a stake.
“We know what’s in your Bible
“And we know what will be.
“You’ve got corrupted words there —
“We know who corrupted them.
“If your God is omnipotent …
“If he’s sovereign …
“He wouldn’t have let his word
“Grow so strangely dim.
“The Hebrews wrote a book of lies
“To give false information!
“The Torah and the so-called Law
“The true words our creation.
“The Ten Commandments, too.
“Joshua in the tabernacle,
“When Moses’s talk was through,
“Prepared for war’s debacle.
“We are innocent.
“We created the Ten Commandments,
“We gave to man the Law
“You say that your God sent.
“You can’t deny the errors.
“Confusion everywhere!
“Different sorts of endings
“When Gospels are compared.
“The world, it is corrupted.
“It’s flawed and filled with death.
“We know we’ll live forever …
“We’ve run the beta tests.”
Jesus is the light of the world.
“We know, we’ve met the light.
“Have you ever met your Jesus …
“Who may be black not white?”
They were clearly practiced
They’d learned the perfect lie:
Man is flawed, so God is flawed,
That man was made to die.
“Can you serve a God …
“Who’s good and also evil?
“It’s up to us to save the world …
“We have before, we will!
“So take your silly Bible
“And take your Jesus, too …
“And we’ll see who comes out on top …
“And, friend, it won’t be you.”
I’m not your fucking friend, ace.
I know the book’s corrupted.
I was about to say something …
Before you interrupted.
That you’re the ones who corrupted it!
You’re the ones who lie!
Your side keeps all these secrets.
But our God never lies.
The God of Israel is perfect
His plan fits like a puzzle;
‘Tis you who’ve gored the ox;
‘Tis you who’ve placed the muzzle.
The Gospels are a mess!
Indeed they’re filled with errors.
But Gnostic fingerprints
Have showed up everywhere.
There’s gaps in the second Gospel
A gap at Jericho;
The last portion of Mark
Uncharacteristically slow.
But slower still the writings
Of the all-knowing Gnostics
Whose writing is so bad …
They’re gospels can’t be fixed.
And you distrust the words
Which you say that you know:
But true prophetic fulfillments
This power book plainly shows:
If it is flawed, it’s not by men,
Not by those who’re inspired.
But by the agents of Lucifer,
A cheating, thieving liar.
The white supremacists …
The killers of blacks and Jews …
Are no better than Herod was;
Your days are numbered, too.
And as died Herod, Eli and Saul
Ahab and Jezebel
So have you chosen for yourselves
God sends no one to hell.
As Elijah shamed the prophets,
Who sold their souls to Baal,
Proving Israel’s God is God
He’s ways can never fail.
I say let’s have a contest
To show whose God is God;
Man’s best laid plans are crumbling
And here’s one more thing, odd:
The Bible you corrupted
You left in the resurrection
You can’t deny the gospel’s spread
To every town, city, nation.
“If Jesus is the light of the world …
“We have met the light.
“The world is filled with lazy souls,
“Who steal, won’t work and fight.
“If we want better lives
“We’ll need to be efficient.
“We need much more production
“No-nonsense government.
“Look how we’ve treated people
“We’ve taught them all God’s word;
“But they get fat and lazy …
“Like old cows in a herd.
“They breed like common animals
“Lusty animals!
“They steal to feed their families,
“To keep their stomachs full.
“And don’t pay any taxes,
“And don’t respect the land.
“We’ll be much better stewards;
“We’ve got the stronger hand.”
The world you love is plastic.
We eat our food from cans.
Preservatives are poisoning us
It’s true, we’ve raped the land.
But in a perfect world …
The one which God has made …
There wouldn’t be good plus evil;
There’d be light and no shade.
Darkness, death, disease
Have all come at your hands.
You’ve cooked up germs and weather
To punish poorer lands.
I’ll bet you made Katrina
To show how strong you are;
Baal and El in Canaan
Taught you to use the stars.
Your ways are artificial.
Progress destroy God’s creation.
Do you deny the Gnostic way
Is not health but infection?
Do you deny your side has lied?
No charity, but deceit?
Do you deny the Shroud of Turin
And other heresies?
To fool men into thinking
Jesus was not Everyman
Comprised of mankind’s DNA
All persons, races, clans
The same blood borne by Adam;
In Eden … God made man.
One father and one mother
For science says it’s so;
Do you deny the lies?
That there’s much you don’t know?
Do you deny the hoaxes,
The false relics, the fraud?
The effort to hide Jesus’ friend
Whom we know wasn’t John
“Nonsense, we do know it was John!”
Yes, John but also Mark,
An African, a brilliant scholar
Whose skin, indeed, was dark.
He wrote two Gospels, John and Mark.
He wrote the Revelation.
He worked for Peter as “interpreter,”
For Peter had no education.
Nor did either of Zebedee’s sons.
John and James were lazy.
They angered Jesus’ disciples,
And nearly drove him crazy..
And John and James may have been
In truth Jesus’ cousins
Meanwhile John Mark and Mary
Mother and son have been hidden.
Magdala’s in Ethiopia;
So is Eden’s Garden;
Sheba’s a lie as Magdalene is.
Was Adam and Ethiopian.
A showdown then, agreed?
Set up down by the river?
Life, the world are joyful gifts
And our God is the giver.
“Impertinent little man!
“You speak as if you’re God.
“I’ll meet you for your showdown
“On any patch of sod.
“You babbling fool, custodian …
“How dare you challenge me
“This same time next week, fool …
“The river at half past three.”
Instead make it high noon
Which carries greater weight
I’ll be there sir, with bells on …
If you’re late … I will wait.
I see you look concerned
As were the prophets of Baal,
When Elijah challenged them …
His words were not assailed.
These words have power and poetry
Not all words could you fix.
A cinch to prove you did it;
And that you make man sick.
Your dead germs all need hosts;
You own sickness is soon.
But first come and let God shame you …
The river, next week, high noon.
— rcg … to be continued
Janet Devlin
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