SKECH185:
A Swedish Jew German clusterfuckery of Coca Cola colors covers the gamut/
Candidate for Kmettan mythos twisted Caucasian as Cannon/
Jesus had an eagles head. Walking across dark water, Egyptian forest, now found foster to child to an Olsteen smile and Baptist chorus/
Of course it's logical: He fucked his own mother in third person thus creating his own self/son birthed in a place Bread Basket/
If stars could blush. ( I ) Could only imagine the light shined throughout that stainglass house/
Confusing the seeds throughout the growth, looking so decadent from the outs/
Knotted and climbing in a land where every vagina's an archway to two extremes of the same myth/
18 year gap with a splash of Augustine script. My headache matches my Hell!!!/
Frail faith slave fragment patch worked to non African. Bleached African. Impossible, they have no history!!!/
It takes a village of Romans to make a Christians hair straighten/
Its like trail blazing in the Garden of Eden, eating the quinces, wincing at the breezes forgetting clothes haven't been invented/
and Mary was only 13/

Gilead7:
Now what we have here is a failure to communicate. When we talk about the biblical text, we tend take myth and interpret it as fact. Jesus being born of a virgin in the original genre, in context, would be taken as myth. Rudolph Bultmann's technique of form criticism helps to understand. The God/Man story is nothing new to Jesus. It's seen in Osiris, Apolonius... way, way, back in history.

SKECH185:
I want to face fuck a chick for Christmas... I mean the sky's falling and my umbrellas a cynic's tongue so I'm fucked!!!/
Victim to my own pondering nature. Painting questions with the grays of the (Twin)Towers' smoke/
Amidst the habitually frail. At all pistons fixed to my mission of attaining a mystic muddy princess baring classic bloody kisses/
Stitching my mistakes into her sentence while I defend them/
Against this scripture blinded Knights guiding a socially-muted mass movement. Ant army whispering broadcast as they march in fidgety fury/
Scared of Gays... flying planes into buildings... with no dead Mexicans/
Giving dap to their Black supervisors next to them dodging bullets from gunmen reflecting them like "We Shall Over Come"/
As "Take" annexes "Give" watching the Atomic Family's daughter get fucked over drums/
Flexing Kwanzaa/Minora. Flexing (a) disconnection with the sum of the sons whose skin shows the the sum the sun/
But I guess this is apple pie so excuse if my simple wishes are more ambitious than sweaters and gift cards/
Seeing these folks make up the bulk.Its a vicious Saturn sadness. Twisted madness rampant. Wal Mark murders as wallpaper around this manger/
And it sickens me that love is message but present is so confusion. A lesson for deaf ears/
I sort of miss the Christ treelight music/
Ironic, one day I'll pretend to give Santa Claus paper thus defending this fiction for genuine excitement later/
So lets call it "Growing Up" when "Growing Old" seems to have less favor/

And the story is just a story of a story of a story
And love is the message but the message seemed skewed
And the history is there but there are two kings in it
One is forgotten. The other is a false image
And theres always been a Virgin and there's always been a Son
And the Son has always been savior but the land was never Rome
He once had an Eagles head and called horizon home
This the story of a story of a story of a story

Now what Imma give to you is small measure of:
Love = Mother
Strength = Father
Compassion = Spirit
Wisdom = Son

Now what Imma give to you is a testament of truth seeked through the fog for muse deemed "Too Far"

Now what Imma give to you is small measure of:
Love = Mother
Strength = Father
Compassion = Spirit
Wisdom = Son

Now what Imma give to you is tryptich of mythsfit for a misfit tapping at The Passion

Gilead7:

The great Theologian Paul Tillich talked about the value of myth and the life transformative value of myth. He said "When a myth is taking literally, you miss the whole essence of the myth." The Gospels are not historical accounts, their documents of faith. Those documents of faith equal myth to a great degree. Why don't we live lives where we are not hung up on those myths but we live such powerful lives future generations make myths of our fact?