Dirty Religious Secrets

3 religious poems inspired by Post Secrets.

MY PRIEST KNOWS

(“I don’t wear panties to church, and my priest knows.”)

The gargoyle watches from its perch
My progress through the silent church,
As I select the perfect pew
To give the priest the perfect view.

The echo of my heels subside.
The gargoyle watches with a leer
The priest emerging from inside,
His eyes wide with a mortal fear.
For well he knows God sends to tease –
A Jezebel without panties.

He tries to look me in the eye,
But cannot help but sneak a glance
To where my dress reveals some thigh,
And promises of absent pants.

Who needs heaven with this hell?
The priest must fall as Adam fell.

He kneels before his Magdalene;
His eyes are level with my thighs.
He cares not that his wicked sin
Is done before his Maker’s eyes.
And as my pussy meets his eye,
He kisses Paradise goodbye.
While up above the gargoyle grins
At temptresses and priestly sins.

SIN

(“I love making religious boys sin. It makes me feel more powerful than God.”)

Pride comes before the fall, they say -
Religious boys are full of Pride.
You’d think that half of them were gay,
The way they run away and hide.
But I love making good boys sin,
Since the first time that I tried.
And once I’ve set my eyes on him,
I will not rest till he’s inside.

My pussy aches to feel their cocks -
It burns with an unholy Lust.
I know just how to pick their locks,
Anticipating that first thrust
Of saintly cock in sinner’s cunt,
His passion mingled with disgust.
It falls on him to bear the brunt:
Believe me that in God I trust.

To fill me with their righteous cum,
It is a kind of Gluttony.
Religious boys they have their fun
And leave their offerings in me.
But better yet they taste divine -
I suck their young cocks greedily.
They fill me with their holy wine,
Or on my face for all to see.

How eagerly I covet them,
There is no limit to my Greed.
I cannot get enough of them,
And when they’re finished still I need
More of them – an entire choir!
And only then might I proceed
From baser needs to something higher,
While drunk upon their holy seed.

I pass the day the curtains drawn,
My altar boy consumed by Sloth.
We dial a pizza, watch some porn,
While jealous priests pray for us both.
As good folk rush around like flies,
Here in my bedroom lies the truth,
It’s yours to taste between my thighs -
The fountain of eternal youth.

Now look into my eyes of green,
You see golden flecks of Envy?
Let nothing ever come between
This sacred bond of you and me.
And least of all your precious Lord –
He doesn’t like you fucking me.
But here I am – your just reward,
And my embrace will set you free.

And only I can set you free;
My breast must surely be enough.
Boys have before you tried to flee,
And learned too late that I play rough.
So take my hand and walk with me,
I’ll lead you from the trodden path.
But never try to run from me,
And pray you never feel my Wrath.

WHEN I GO TO MOSQUE TO PRAY

(“When I go to mosque to pray, I get horny.”)

When I go to mosque to pray, I get horny.
In the first light of the day, I get horny.

I work all morning till the muezzin’s call,
When tired I make my way, I get horny.

The lazy flies buzz through the afternoon until
My prayers take me away, I get horny.

The sun sets and wearily we go to mosque.
When facing Mecca I lay, I get horny.

Once more we face west, then finally alone,
Under the sheets my hands stray, I get horny.