If I Was God

 God forbid the thought of blasphemy!

The madness of greed and wealth!

God forgive the homeless and the forgotten!

The downtrodden and the innocent children!

If I Was God

 

If I was God, what would I see each time I looked down on you?

The roads you walked, the way you talked, your twisted worldly view.

As you feed your addictions with the rising of the sun,

Working your fingers to the bone till the moneylenders come.

 

With my all-seeing eye cast far and wide, watching every move,

To all my rules you must abide, my laws you shall approve.

How you act and speak toward each other, through the clitter-clatter,

Men of mixed race and different creeds, with all their unusual chatter.

 

The strange smells of exotic foods, the smoke, the fumes, the mess,

The repugnant beggars on the corners, the vagrant homeless.

Perhaps I should build a tower, a mighty tower in the clouds,

A tower to Trump them all, adorned with jewels and gold so proud.

 

And all my precious things within, my entitlements for me,

Vaults overflowing with the wealth and gifts that I decree.

As kings and queens and presidents bow down in my respect,

And heap before my throne the treasures that I should expect.

 

And there upon my marble steps the faithful all would crawl,

Kissing rings upon my hand while praising me through all.

Their banners raised, their voices joined in hymns of fear and awe,

Declaring every word I spoke perfection without flaw.

 

Great choirs dressed in robes of white would sing my sacred name,

While starving children far below were left out in the rain.

Perfumed halls and banquet tables heavy underneath their weight,

While blistered hands in freezing streets still begged outside my gate.

 

Statues cast in gold and bronze would tower to the skies,

Reflecting back my glorious face through vast cathedral eyes.

And mirrors lined in silver frames would show me clothed in light,

A living monument to power enthroned in endless height.

 

A place above the gutters where you tread amongst the others,

Far removed from filthy streets and all your human brothers.

So tall that I could cast my eye on every soul below,

Yet none could see me watching them from heights they’ll never know.

 

With my scornful eye observing everything you do,

As I catch the lightning bolts and hurl them down on you.

While you cringe beneath the thunder at the roaring of my voice,

And feel the wrath of narcissism should you dare rejoice.

 

The oceans would fall silent when commanded by my hand,

The mountains bow before me, the meek obey demand.

And all who dared to question me would tremble at my feet,

Condemned beneath my holy rage, abandoned in defeat.

 

Beware the day that soon may come when I call out your name,

And judge your every weakness while pretending I’m unchanged.

For if I was God and ruled the heavens from above,

Would I command you all through fear — or understand through love?

Written By: Alan.Clark@WW1POET (May 2026)

God Forbid God Forgive

 Who really can say that God has forgiven this man? The weight of salvation and absolution is one that belongs in God's hands!

God Forbid God Forgive

They feast upon the forbidden fruit, in sordid lives they live,

Filled with incestuous thought, God forbid and then God forgive.

Living in the space between bad and good, and good and bad,

As they boast of their sins committed and transgressions had.

Alternating between two different languages that they speak,

The one of sinful acts and blasphemy, each day of the week.

Then Sunday’s child, meek and mild, they keep the Sabbath day.

The utter hypocrisy of their lies, pleading with God to be saved.

Preaching and praising, worshiping in an altered state of mind,

Down on bended knees, as they mingle with the forgiven kind.

Content to think that they can be saved, in the eyes of God,

No matter, what sins they have committed, where they trod.

Their victims left in the wake soiled, and abused beyond repair,

Trashed and cast aside by gluttonous men, who do not care.

Men with sick minds locked in an endless cycle of toxic insanity,

As they demand of God the right to be forgiven for profanity.

Lo come the day, when they will pay, in spiritual recompense,

As they languish in hell, their eternal punishment dispensed.

The sordid lives they have lived, and innocence they have riven,

What God has forbidden! They have no right to be forgiven!

Written By: Alan.Clark@WW1POET (May 2026)

The Unrepentant Confession

 Something a little different. I guess that my imagination has been inflicted with all the evil men in the world. Their lack of compassion and feelings toward other people. Their unpredictable responses to people who they do not agree with. Their brazen attitudes and contempt toward the rule of law and humanity.

The Unrepentant Confession

I met a drunk, who spoke of awful things, that he had done,

Broken laws in many states, evaded justice, still on the run.

He spoke of crimes in reckless tones, explicit in detail,

And bragged how he outwitted men who sought to put him in jail.

 

He portrayed his victims as mere objects, void of worth or name,

How he stalked them through the streets as though it were a game.

He left them broken where they fell, then vanished out of town,

And while he kept on drifting, they had never tracked him down.

 

The tavern lights burned dim and low, the hour growing late,

While shadows gathered near our booth like something close to fate.

The laughter from the other folk grew distant, faint, and thin,

As though the world beyond our space no longer dared step in.

 

He smiled at moments ill-suited, then fell deathly still a-gin,

As though old memories stirred, somewhere, far beneath his skin.

I watched the twitching of his jaw, the tightening of his hands,

And spoke to calm the rampant fire, that no man understands.

 

For something dark behind his eyes seemed restless, cold, and strange,

And every careful question asked appeared to make him change.

I felt the stiffness in my spine each time he leaned in near,

While every word he softly spoke seemed sharpened now by fear.

 

I asked him why recount such tales so sordid and obscene,

And what he thought that he would gain now, in coming clean.

He said he’d turned another page, and left the past behind,

That he had called upon the Lord and now possessed peace of mind.

 

He claimed, God had washed his sins and freed him from his shame,

And said retracing steps once more would serve no useful gain.

“No point,” he said, “in dredging up what’s buried deep and gone,

The Lord forgives the truly saved, and life must still go on.”

 

The tavern keeper glanced our way, then quickly looked aside,

As though he sensed that something foul beneath the surface lied.

The room grew quieter still, as if the night itself had drawn

Its breath closed in, around our table, waiting for the dawn.

 

I thought about the cold case files left gathering dust for years,

The sleepless nights endured still by the victims’ kin through tears.

The empty chairs, the unanswered prayers, the grief that never ends,

While he sought comfort for himself beneath religion’s lens.

 

He leaned in again; stale ale upon his breath, hard to bear,

And for a fleeting moment then, I feared what lingered there.

His eyes grew fixed, and vacant-like, then sharpened suddenly,

As though he scoured my anxious face, to gauge my chemistry.

 

I thought to rise and end the talk, escape into the night,

Yet something deep within me warned retreat may not be right.

So, I carefully chose my words, and kept my movements small,

For men who carry buried rage may snap without recall.

 

He laughed at things no soul should laugh remembering the dead,

Then drifted into silence with both trembling hands outspread.

And once he softly named a town where no one knew his face,

Then smiled and said, “Some folks just vanish, without a trace.”

 

The wind outside began to press against the window frame,

As though it too had heard enough to know the man’s true name.

And I felt chained by fear detained unable to depart or break away,

As if the stagnant air had choked itself refused to let me rise and stray.

 

At last, he rose unsteadily and staggered out into the night,

He didn’t look back, his nefarious form swallowed out of sight.

Though I had seen no sorrow live, no anguish, fear, nor dread,

I had indeed, seen all the ghosts, of all the victims in his head.

Written By: Alan.Clark@WW1POET (May 2026)

Oh Liberty

 Give me your tired, your poor, your huddled masses yearning to breathe free!

The Statue of Liberty no longer a beacon welcoming the world to the American shores.

The USA now ruled by Trumps ruthless regime of misfits and abusers. His supporters just standing by, watching the circus of insanity that they have brought to the Capital. Complicity!

ICE rounding up innocent civilians, immigrants and even tourists. Then subjecting them to terror and abuse.

This is the age of enrichment and self-centered politicians who feel entitled to take what is not theirs to take from the poor and the destitute. Of war mongering pirates on the high seas! The age of Bitcoin and Bribes. The age of ignorance, lies, misinformation, broken promises and treaties.

Oh Liberty

Oh Liberty, by your grace, your poise—dear friend of mine,

I see your torch held high, a beacon burning bright through time.

How I admire your crown, so justly worn, your virtues bold,

With faith and courage beating strong within my heart and soul.

 

For you, Liberty, the checkered road I’ve left behind,

To live within your light and dream again of better times.

The past—of pain and sorrow—where in misery I dwelt,

Now bound as one beneath freedom’s gaze, I stand, not knelt.

 

At sight of you, my hope, my strength, my dreams take root,

In freedom found, my restless mind stands resolute.

From those who sought to press upon my head a crown of thorns,

To tear away my liberty and leave my spirit torn.

 

Each rising sun sets fire anew within your lifted flame,

A path to freedom found, where all may come and stake a claim.

Oh Liberty, kindred spirit, with your sacred tablet held,

A living word of freedom, where oppression once was quelled.

 

Your broken chains and shattered shackles speak of what was cast—

Of tyrannies and rigid caste that bound us to the past.

The jangle now drowned by The Liberty Bell in Philadelphia rung,

To the sound of the anthem in The Star-Spangled Banner sung.

 

Oh Liberty, reminder of the values for which you’ve stood fast,

In threat of foreign wars, and fear still born within the downcast.

With the fabric of your robes now left threadbare with discontent,

By men of greed who break the dream of hope with ill intent.

 

They cast aside the bonds of trust that make a nation strong,

And seek to rewrite the Constitution—turning right to wrong.

But we will rise again at sight of you, to face each growing threat,

As venom seeks to stain that sacred word—we will not forget.

 

United in the cause of peace, in all you stood before,

We hold the line, remembering what freedom stands for.

And though the winds may lash your torch, and tides may turn away,

Its fire endures—reflected in the eyes that yearn for day.

Written By: Alan.Clark@WW1POET (May 2026)