Of course they have power, Adrian. But that's not the same as saying they have validity or are true. Their power is what makes it not childish to take them on.

But Adrian, one may not set out to blaspheme. I presume Christ did not. But then other people set up a cacophony because you said what seemed to you the plain truth. I do not claim to be Christ (not yet anyhow) but I have found this occasionally. It is often called giving offence, and one is not supposed to do it.

There is a poem by the late Peter Reading. I wonder if I can remember it.

John, when you have your annual checkup, make sure that your doctor examines your hands and feet for incipient signs of holes.

It's the changing water into wine - that's the trick I'm keen on learning. Rising from the dead? Done that.

I hope that near-blasphemy will be acceptable as well as the real McCoy.

Before Rome set its adamantine
face against the old Tridentine
Catholics took the Bread of Heaven
complete with proper Latin leaven
in Missals fat as half a brick,
two thousand pages Rizla-thick
in which it took this boy an age
to ascertain the proper page
for prayers whose arcane rigmarole
they’d said would save his sinful soul.

This Mass which stood tradition’s test
is finished. Ite, Missa est.
Redemption now is near at hand
in language we can understand;
and threading camels far less hard
with Mass pre-printed on one card.
Yet boyhood fear of What Comes Next
seems missing from the English text;
and makes this ersatz Mass, for me,
seem precious close to blasphemy.

Genesis

One sunny morning, strolling in my garden.
I stumbled, and my foot crushed something’s head.
"Me dammit!" I exclaimed, “I beg your pardon”,
Looked down, and saw my Serpent lying dead.

This Serpent was supposed to tempt the couple
With luscious fruit that Eden's trees bedecks;
My chosen agent, sinuous and supple,
Would lead the pair to knowledge - and to sex.

Omniscience can have its limitations,
And even Godly schemes may gang agley.
I'd once envisaged teeming populations,
But this, perhaps, was better, in its way.

No guns, no bullets, no demented shooters,
Since nothing could be made, except of wood;
No mobile phones (thank Me!) and no computers ...
I looked on all of this, and found it good.

Yet what of those who should have lived hereafter?
No Homer, Shakespeare, Mozart, Botticelli?
No P. G. Wodehouse? (I was fond of laughter,
Though, being God, I didn’t have a belly).

Descendants all, but only if they had ’em.
(No Michelangelo, no Sistine Chapel?)
My mind made up, I beckoned Eve and Adam:
“I wondered if you’d care to try an apple?”

Blasphemy's a Blast for Me

God's an asshole, God's a schmuck,
God's a wizard run amok.

God's conceited, God is vain,
God created germs and pain.

God is jealous, God is cruel,
God is evil, God's a fool.

God is angry, God is mad,
God made far less good than bad.

God lets children starve and die.
God makes everybody cry.

God commands with iron fist.
Sadly, God does not exist.

Brian, yours reminds me of an old one from my files:

SPYING IN THE GARDEN OF EDEN

I built myself a time machine
and set it for the day
when Eve and Adam ate the fruit
and there was hell to pay.

I thought it would be fun to watch.
I'd heard so much about it
in Sunday school, and I confess
I had begun to doubt it,

since why would God make so much fuss
about a crime so minor?
I like to think the Lord is not
vindictive, or a whiner.

And so I hid behind a tree
and watched the serpent hiss.
He said, "There is a mystery.
Can you explain it, miss?

"The mystery I'm speaking of
and trying hard to grapple,
is why, if God's so generous,
he will not share the apple?"

Eve reflected, then replied,
"What difference does it make?"
"It's something you should think about,
that's all," replied the snake.

"Think what?" said Eve. The snake then said,
"It must be quite delicious.
What good is man's dominion
over animals and fishes

if you can't eat a piece of fruit
that's growing in your garden?
Eat the apple, then tell God,
My bad! I beg your pardon!"

I didn't think this was enough
for Eve to be persuaded.
But then I saw her pick the fruit!
I watched her as she ate it!

Then Adam came. The serprent spoke
his nonsense once again.
And Adam bought it! What a fool,
the father of all men!

I went back to my time machine
and sadly climbed back in.
Not apples, but stupidity,
was Eve's and Adam's sin.

I found something in my files that sears but doesn't rhyme or scan. My thanks to the contest (I'll probably find another that does rhyme and scan any minute now) for allowing me to find the first, which file I never would have looked at otherwise!