# November Challenge: "Magic Jesus Finger"



## Chesters Daughter (Nov 1, 2017)

The prompt for this month's challenge, as chosen by Pete_C is: *Magic Jesus Finger*

You are free to interpret the prompt in any way you wish, though of course, site rules apply. If you are unsure of the challenge rules please read the 'stickies' at the top of the board. *Please note that all entries* *are eligible to receive critique in the voting thread.* 

*The inclusion of explanatory text or links of any kind within an entrant's challenge entry is prohibited and will be immediately removed upon discovery. As always, only one entry per member is permitted.

*As previously announced, anonymous entries have been abolished, therefore, entrants must post their own entries in this thread, or if you desire to protect first rights, please post your entry in the *workshop thread*, and then post a link to it here in the public thread. *Failure to do so runs the risk of your entry being disqualifie**d*, so if you require assistance with the task, please PM *me*, and I will gladly help you.

If your entry contains strong language or mature content, *please include a disclaimer in your title.

*Kindly make sure your entry is properly formatted and error free before you submit. You have a *ten minute grace period* to edit your piece, but anything edited after that will likely see your entry excluded from the challenge. 
*
Do not post comments in this thread. Any discussion related to the challenge can take place in the Bards' Bistro. 

Everyone may now use the "Like" function whenever they so choose.



This challenge will close on the 15th of November at 7pm EST.*


----------



## jenthepen (Nov 2, 2017)

*Moment in Time*


 The moving finger is forced to halt
 and tremble hawk-like overhead
 as conscious eyes reflect perfection,
 stilled in a mind-flood of perception,
 in sudden clarity.


 Such feelings cannot be sustained
 and though retained as memories,
 the momentary awe, unbound,
 slips through the mind as sounds push in
 and is lost as focus fails.


 The moving finger up above,
 released from breathless, timeless pause,
 resumes its writing of creation
 and life goes on, renewed.


----------



## Phil Istine (Nov 2, 2017)

*[conversion]*

*conversion*​


----------



## Sumguy (Nov 5, 2017)

Lacking decorum,
any sense of right and wrong...
the freedom of swine.


----------



## aj47 (Nov 5, 2017)

[anonymous]

flip datatables
in hallowed stock exchanges
what would jesus do


----------



## sas (Nov 6, 2017)

*Run Away*


----------



## Darkkin (Nov 6, 2017)

*The Star Socks Fox*

Star Socks Fox


He began as a pair of socks, cobalt with gold stars, this fox.
He was worn and washed, washed until he was well worn.
Then one day, a hand sorted him into the feared donate box.
From his home, his drawer, safe and warm, he was torn.

Into a pile, a jumbled mess he was dumped, lumped—lost.
Parted from the mismatched Banana Stripe and Troll with Hole.
Into a bin of all colours and sorts, the Star Socks were tossed,
and he watched as Troll with Hole became the prize a rat stole.

Star quivered, quavered, quaked—_Would he share Troll’s fate?_
Then he felt it, a small hand gripped him tight.  Up, up—away!
A crinkled wrinkle crackled about him, his only option:  Wait.
The world moved; light blurred.  _Laughter_!  A child at play—

Out of the crinkle, onto a table its wood smooth and mellow.
A sock separated from his fellow, Star divided in order to begin.
A flash of silver, an ominous snick sliced clean blue to yellow.
Star now divided beside a pile of cream and fray, a cardigan.

The cardigan gave a feeble wave as it, too, was taken away.
Then came Star’s turn, that small hand reached—Star going.
A silver brightness loomed, bit, _snipped_—Star began to pray
as a dim light glowed and Star became a creature of sewing.

The fray of grey was now his tummy, sleek and plump.
His twin, a tail and hind feet, toes with a tippet of white—
And Star now had two button eyes, paws, and a rump.
He was Star Socks Fox—Clever, courageous and bright.

A hand lending the hand of fate a hand?   Maybe so--
yet that something is something more than child's play, 
but what it is no one can say and only the innocent know.


----------



## Pete_C (Nov 7, 2017)

*The Lake*


----------



## Chesters Daughter (Nov 7, 2017)

*A Pointer's Inescapable Comeuppance*

You aim your index —
clad in fine cowhide
to lure broke sisters
with wily guise —
straight at my chest
and condemn my ass to hell.
Boy, that bath you took
three years ago
sure has made
your empty head swell.

You preach, but don't practice,
yet hide your insides well
once you set those tootsies
in the mega money-maker,
with a few fellow fakers, 
and slither under 
that gullible, 
ooey-gooey spell.

Your costly cologne 
can't compete with the reek
of bogus from your pores  
but don't you worry none,
I vow not to mention it
to any of your whores.

With ear piece and emblem,
you are security
sheathed in Calvin Klein,
so importantly tasked 
with keeping congregants in line.
You pad baskets being passed
oblivious 
to our bodies' need to dine,
and can't even assign blame
to too much Communion wine.

Can I please get an amen
from the lions' den
as you dress to impress
and starve us to death 
while laying paving stones of green
that will never go where you seem
to think they'll lead.
Of funds, God has no need.

I worship alone
from a room I rarely leave,
so you label me heathen
and mistakenly believe
you have a say in my fate.
Such arrogance from a soul
who lovingly cultivates hate.
Loath to tell you, dear,
that pointer of yours harbors
neither magic or faith.

I'd tell you where to shove it
but that would smack of sin,
so you keep directing that digit
'til incessant ticks 
turn it thin as a pin.

Before long, I'll end up 
right where I belong,
and fortunately,
so will you;
you'll find your finger's been untrue
and there's naught you can do
to defy _your_ destination.

I find succor in the fact
we will never meet anew,
for the Lord ain't blind
nor can He be wooed,
and, my miguided judge and jury,
He has _always_
been watching you.


----------



## andrewclunn (Nov 11, 2017)

*Jesus Pull My Finger*

Jesus will you please forgive me?  I need to get this off my chest.
Last Sunday I didn't feel too well
and had raisin bran for breakfast.
It happened during the hymn at offering, towards the end of mass.
We both know that it wasn't just
the collection plate I passed.

At that moment the choir sang a mighty b flat harmony.
Oh, but for the grace of God,
my sin resonated in key.
Though it had escaped the parish's ears, they would surely catch the smell,
as the unholy spirit wafted forth
unleashed by my bowls of hell.

Oh Jesus, I knew I couldn't save them, so I did not confess.
I resolved to keep my head down
and let God sort out the rest.
Then I sang the hymn more loudly, like there was nothing to forgive.
"Now I taste of heaven’s sweetness,
for my savior in me lives!"


----------



## Grizzly (Nov 13, 2017)

Magic Jesus Finger _or_ Up the Nose

(Hope I linked that right... It's #5)


----------



## nelen (Nov 15, 2017)

*The Finger of God*

/
He came in the blood of the evening sun;
naked save for the beads on his neck and arms
He embodied the god in a filial embrace,
and as the god's Shaman was seeped in the Art.
His visions were glowing and phantasmagorical,
evoking the Spirits to dance with the Tribe.
Strange and unearthly he wove a new dance
of love and compassion for all of mankind.
He cured the afflicted of body and mind,
and revoked the pallid demon of sudden Death..


The Tribe truly burgeoned with magical power;.
but the Pale Cross Worshippers
the strange, distant rulers of the tribes of the forest,
threatened to destroy the god  of the mountain,
which would devastate The Tribe.
He was the Guide to the sacred garden
where grew the magic Tree of Immortality.


Another Shaman, green with deception ,sought The Cross Worshippers
telling them  them the secret of the source of The Tribes power.
They had been seduced by a wicked Shaman,
who used demonic powers to perform his miracles..
He would destroy him, if they would spare the god of the mountain
and the Deceiver deviously sewed doubt in the minds of the Tribe  
accusing the Shaman of evil practises and profanity.


They sacrificed him on the Accursed Tree.
He died  for the sake of the god of the mountain
and the sure immortality of The Tribe.
They drank his warm blood to gain some of his power
and ate the flesh of his side to remember him.
His Spirit lived on. He was never forgotten.


BUT THEY WERE NOT BLESSED BY THE FINGER OF GOD


 The Pale Cross Worshippers condemned them.
The Tribe worshipped Demons evoked by the  Shaman,
and a true abomination, they performed Human Sacrifice.
It was rumoured they were cannibals
and ate the corpse of the Shaman.
They were truly damned.


To save them they  needed to be converted to the Worship of the Cross.


Those who have eyes to see. See...but they were blind
Those who have brains to think...think, but their minds were closed.


None of them understood.




​


----------



## ned (Nov 15, 2017)

*L’artista della Cappella*

*.
L’artista della Cappella

*Atop a scaffold
stretching his neck
he portrays grace
with golden flecks
upon his face

rendering heaven
clothing god
creating
naked man
with reaching hands
that almost brush
over the sacred ceiling​


----------



## TuesdayEve (Nov 15, 2017)

Prodigy

Jesus was born in a mountain town
where the sky meets the trees
Moisture misty white threads
green carpet canopies
Gentle nature, kindly soul 
mature beyond fourteen
Spider Monkeys, Tapirs knew him
yet no one had foreseen
The people of the village 
resent his gifted hands
Illuminating fingers 
healing animal and man
Magic, evil, devils' curse, 
special some would say
Parish priest spitting blood
strickened vertebrae 
Jesus hand glowed white light
touched the man's forehead
Denounced the boy a heretic 
believer now instead
They rallied 'round this miracle 
the priest now quite convinced
Jesus was a blessing
sent to all as evidence
Gods' boundless power transforms lives
if only we can see
Wonderous marvels everyday
life's prodigy is thee


----------



## Chesters Daughter (Nov 15, 2017)

This challenge is now closed.


----------

