Jesus Loves Everything: Abortion Poem V: The Scalping Dance

Jesus Loves Everything: Abortion Poem V: The Scalping Dance

oh yeah. the guy who runs that blog calls it this:

“Jesus Loves Everything: A site dedicated to traditional conservative christian family values”

i don’t think God blesses people to make racist poetry.

on it, he’s got a bunch of poems about abortion being bad. here’s one. i guess being right like he is means it’s ok to be a racist too:

Thursday, April 13, 2006
Abortion Poem V: The Scalping Dance

I think I mentioned in an earlier post (the one about manifest destiny) that Indians have promised to perform abortions in South Dakota should the anti-abortion law stand. Well, that angered me so much, God blessed me with the inspiration to write a poem about it. Here it is:

The Scalping Dance

Pow wow wow wow
Pow wow wow wow
HOW HOW!

Indian chief,
Indian chief
Scalping, scalping
Innocence thief!

Feather in his hair,
Evil spirits in the air,
He dances, dances
A fire dance,

The flames
Rising,, rising
They rise

And feed and feed
Because a woman
Will bleed.

And rising, rising
In approval
The flames rise
For a removal.

Indian chief,
Indian chief
Scalping, scalping
Innocence thief!

Laughing, laughing
He tears the womb,
The woman now a tomb
And dances, dances
His fire dance,

The flames
Rising, rising
They rise

Jumping and leaping
For the sacrifice,
Satan’s sign
Of spite for Christ.

Indian chief,
Indian chief,
Scalping, scalping
Innocence thief!

His turquoise beads dangle,
His weathered hands strangle,
And he dances, dances
A fire dance,

The flames
Rising, rising
They rise

Sparkling, crackling
At the fetus’s belly
In his hands
Sticky like jelly.

Indian chief,
Indian chief,
Scalping, scalping
Innocence thief!

His blade slices the head
And its blood runs red,
And he dances, dances
A fire dance,

The flames
Rising, rising
They rise

Lighting up the sky
As the fetus is drained and squeezed
Into a cauldron
And Satan smiles, pleased.

Indian chief,
Indian chief,
Scalping, scalping
Innocence thief!

He mixes it into a potion,
Rubbing it on like lotion,
And he dances, dances
A fire dance,

The flames
Rising, rising
They rise

Fueled by hate
And the mother’s sin
A trail of tears
Left in their wake

Pow wow wow wow
Pow wow wow wow
HOW HOW!

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