My father was an Episcopal minister. I remember trying to keep focused as a young alter boy not wanting to make any mistakes. When to hand him the bread, the wine, the offering plate… I found it incredibly stressful at the time. There was something also uniquely special about it. It was just about the only way we had to bond.
I’ve seen beautiful ones in Europe and NYC. I don’t spend much time in churches except for it’s architectural beauty it holds – which is truly amazing.
The altar fills the entire view. There are lights decorating it, casting a burnished glow about the room. Turning my head slightly, I see his profile. There’s a slight peaceful smile on his face. A return smile splits across my own.
So there I was tied to the alter a bunch of naked hot guys around me wearing masks, capes and little else. Where’s the wine, ohh there it is. Excuse me your going to put that where now? Merry Christmas too all, and hot men all night. This is my favorite Christmas wish, but instead I’ll be at church with my mom, infront of a real catholic alter. I hope this does not send me to hell!
where this world and the next connect, if just for a moment…reminding us that we see only in part, but then we shall see fully…even as we are fully known.
the church is everything to me. It is my life, my blood, my holy sanctuary. The altar is my god. I communicate with him. everything is blood to him and death is life
It seems fitting that this word would follow it’s homonymous counterpart, but I attack a lot less significance to this word. All I picture is a useless pile of rocks and tangible tokens to something we can’t do for ourselves but the only thing I’m throwing into the fire for this one is myself.
I used to go to catholic church all the time! Then my parents got divorced and I begins to hate god! Church and religion. Now I am finding faith, but not in conventional religion, but in myself.
“I don’t believe in either religious or metaphysical mumbo-jumbo,” I told him angrily.
He shrugged. “No. You worship at the altar of Science. And make no mistake… that is as much a philosophy as any religion or other system of belief. ALL of these systems are merely ways of interpreting the Universe…. Attempting to explain the unexplainable.”
A place to pay tribute to something bigger than yourself. Oranges, incense and self-loathing….reverence for the unknown. Guilt left beside offerings of fruit and money. Young boys made to carry smoking metal contraptions and wear robes of white.
The altar. A shrine to some, a place to be feared by others. To some, it’s simply the misunderstanding of the verb, “to alter”. Ambiguous perhaps, the altar is another strange piece in the world.
The alter was sparkling with candles, a sight which the hearts of the people stopped to sigh at in all its glory. The melting wax of each candle could not distract from the radiation of hope it seemed to have in its halo of light, collectively a soft cream cloud.
The church bells ring as people walk inside, smiles on their faces. Today was the wedding, a day they were all looking for. There was a smile on everybody’s face. Everyone but the bride. She didn’t love him, didn’t want to marry him. But she was terrified of what he’d do if she didn’t. The bruises were still on her back. Although she covered them up well, they still hurt her. She still noticed.
i alter the world around me. i change whats going on. i hate what we’ve become. i stand in the alter in the church that i dont belong in. i hate what religion has done to us. i pray for the world to stop. i pray for you and me. i pray to live a longer immortal life. i pray for plagues.
the wedding is placed here, a place of peace and tranquility where the vows will be uttered hopefully lasting forever. In some instances they dont. But at the alter there is promise, there is hope that love committed here will not stop, will be forever or until death parts us.
He worships her, wondering why he’d never come across a creature of her beauty before. She smiles at him and takes in his adoration, magnifying it and giving it back to him in her own way. They know that at the altar of love, it’s difficult to find the one person you are meant to be with. It’s just what it is. It can’t be anything else. Anyone else. Love is love and when you find it, you worship it. Never take it for granted.
I stand to worship, and the light falls down from the windows. Above the altar is a golden bubble, shining like a bauble that I might have sold a year or two ago to pay for this new habit. This thing called worship. It intrigues me. And the others watch me as I do. They believe in gods; I just like to act like it’s possible. Humans are so interesting. They are so very…very interesting…
I want to be a god next. I want to have my own altar where they might sacrifice oxen and burn incense.
When I kneel down at the altar at church there is one thing that is on my mind. Honoring the Lord, the creator of the heavens and earth. It is a place to set your heart right and align your mind with purity. God is always there to meet me.
It sounds like Jesus. Speaking of Jesus, it’s Christmas, haha. That’s fun. Churches, gospel music, funerals maybe. Let’s praise whatever. Angels, demons, God. Everything all at the same time. A church pew..
the altar of our joys and hopes can so easily become the pyre of our nigthmares and shattered dreams. this altar we run around and is lead by, this god of our desires that so well and sometimes so badly govern our daily lives
we pursue those things that we think will bring us peace, but end up being persecuted by these our pains and fears. these fake altars where we offer ourselves to what in the end is only emptiness.
We sit at the altar and we worship. Some choose not to even approach, while others choose to devote themselves entirely. While we place such high significance on this thing, it is, afterall, a human creation. We have have been instructed on why and how to build it, but our own blood has gone into its creation as well.
sentada en un altar está la gradiosa princesa, dando órdenes inverosímiles, señalando con sus dedos incorruptibles a sus leales sirvientes para que cumplan con sus deseos increíbles.
Where we begin another life. Where there is an end and a beginning all at the same time but no one ever stops to think about it, it’s just a kiss and a walk and things are forever changed.
Jilted and saved. “Better sooner than later” they keep saying. That’s their consolation. Truth is, I knew he’d bolt; but it didn’t matter to me, I was bored, I just didn’t know how to get rid of him.
I’m nearly at the altar. I never thought I would make it here. I didn’t even have a boyfriend during high school, didn’t get my first kiss until college, and then it was with him. I always felt strange because I didn’t have anyone, but it was worth it it, worth waiting for him. We’re perfect for each other, and as I as I walk up the aisle toward him, see his smile glowing on his face, I know we’ll be together forever.
“he’s trying to get me to sacrifice myself on the alter of ‘david’,”she angrily thought to herself as she seated herself down on a broken stump.she looked at her bleeding and cut open side,”but that’s an avenue i’ve been down too many times already.too many freakin’ times!i don’t know how,but i’m gonna kill this bastard
It was as if she was placed on a pedestal, an altar of sorts. With no way to climb down, and no courage to fall, it was her reality to sacrifice her own well-being to the heavens in order to ensure the safety of others.
it’s a place where people go to pray,to worship a divinity,it’s sort of sacre i guess and to some persons it has a special meaning .It’s not necessary about god,it’s the feeling of belief and of faith.
We met at the altar. One on each side facing each other. Our friends stood about in straggly clumps in borrowed jackets and pinned up dresses. Somewhere my mother stood strong under her beehive and glared at me. Nothing seemed real except that altar and the space we drew around ourselves that became sacred.
One there was a man named Billybobbill the III. BillyBob was a very lonely man except for him and his cat Chester who he fed goat milk and tuna balls. Billybo loved Chester so much he decided to marry him and the altar. Chester was a strange cat. He played the ukulele and shoved spinach up his nose. Chester loved to play pattycake with his did and uncle both respectively named ahlalalahah and hohohohehe. They got married and traveled to Bermuda where they both play jacks and eat coconuts under the sunset. Lalalalalalalalalla I’m roger the rabbit.
church sucks you always have a altar at a church. people suck they use al
My father was an Episcopal minister. I remember trying to keep focused as a young alter boy not wanting to make any mistakes. When to hand him the bread, the wine, the offering plate… I found it incredibly stressful at the time. There was something also uniquely special about it. It was just about the only way we had to bond.
I’ve seen beautiful ones in Europe and NYC. I don’t spend much time in churches except for it’s architectural beauty it holds – which is truly amazing.
amor luz paz matrimonio cambio vision mirada nervios sentimiento fidelidad entrega luz esperanza cara nostalgia alegria empezar construir mañana familia inicio promesas realidades todo
alters are a place of dark magic and evil. They are also the place where I live.
The altar fills the entire view. There are lights decorating it, casting a burnished glow about the room. Turning my head slightly, I see his profile. There’s a slight peaceful smile on his face. A return smile splits across my own.
I pray to the alter, gate of my soul. Enter into communication with source. Honesty illuminating all I see. Shadow is peeled back in its presence.
a;ternatAlternating being nbetwennn people is an interesting haqbit of players who are the scum of the earth
So there I was tied to the alter a bunch of naked hot guys around me wearing masks, capes and little else. Where’s the wine, ohh there it is. Excuse me your going to put that where now? Merry Christmas too all, and hot men all night. This is my favorite Christmas wish, but instead I’ll be at church with my mom, infront of a real catholic alter. I hope this does not send me to hell!
altar.
a sacred place.
decorated, venerated
pray, cry, meditate
candles, flowers, photos
dia de los muertos
La Virgen
altar
where this world and the next connect, if just for a moment…reminding us that we see only in part, but then we shall see fully…even as we are fully known.
the church is everything to me. It is my life, my blood, my holy sanctuary. The altar is my god. I communicate with him. everything is blood to him and death is life
It seems fitting that this word would follow it’s homonymous counterpart, but I attack a lot less significance to this word. All I picture is a useless pile of rocks and tangible tokens to something we can’t do for ourselves but the only thing I’m throwing into the fire for this one is myself.
I used to go to catholic church all the time! Then my parents got divorced and I begins to hate god! Church and religion. Now I am finding faith, but not in conventional religion, but in myself.
“I don’t believe in either religious or metaphysical mumbo-jumbo,” I told him angrily.
He shrugged. “No. You worship at the altar of Science. And make no mistake… that is as much a philosophy as any religion or other system of belief. ALL of these systems are merely ways of interpreting the Universe…. Attempting to explain the unexplainable.”
A place to pay tribute to something bigger than yourself. Oranges, incense and self-loathing….reverence for the unknown. Guilt left beside offerings of fruit and money. Young boys made to carry smoking metal contraptions and wear robes of white.
The altar. A shrine to some, a place to be feared by others. To some, it’s simply the misunderstanding of the verb, “to alter”. Ambiguous perhaps, the altar is another strange piece in the world.
The alter was sparkling with candles, a sight which the hearts of the people stopped to sigh at in all its glory. The melting wax of each candle could not distract from the radiation of hope it seemed to have in its halo of light, collectively a soft cream cloud.
The church bells ring as people walk inside, smiles on their faces. Today was the wedding, a day they were all looking for. There was a smile on everybody’s face. Everyone but the bride. She didn’t love him, didn’t want to marry him. But she was terrified of what he’d do if she didn’t. The bruises were still on her back. Although she covered them up well, they still hurt her. She still noticed.
sacrifice
wedding
mariage
promise
oath
stone
wood
blood
compromise
place
people
religion
word
senseless
i alter the world around me. i change whats going on. i hate what we’ve become. i stand in the alter in the church that i dont belong in. i hate what religion has done to us. i pray for the world to stop. i pray for you and me. i pray to live a longer immortal life. i pray for plagues.
the wedding is placed here, a place of peace and tranquility where the vows will be uttered hopefully lasting forever. In some instances they dont. But at the alter there is promise, there is hope that love committed here will not stop, will be forever or until death parts us.
He worships her, wondering why he’d never come across a creature of her beauty before. She smiles at him and takes in his adoration, magnifying it and giving it back to him in her own way. They know that at the altar of love, it’s difficult to find the one person you are meant to be with. It’s just what it is. It can’t be anything else. Anyone else. Love is love and when you find it, you worship it. Never take it for granted.
I stand to worship, and the light falls down from the windows. Above the altar is a golden bubble, shining like a bauble that I might have sold a year or two ago to pay for this new habit. This thing called worship. It intrigues me. And the others watch me as I do. They believe in gods; I just like to act like it’s possible. Humans are so interesting. They are so very…very interesting…
I want to be a god next. I want to have my own altar where they might sacrifice oxen and burn incense.
When I kneel down at the altar at church there is one thing that is on my mind. Honoring the Lord, the creator of the heavens and earth. It is a place to set your heart right and align your mind with purity. God is always there to meet me.
It sounds like Jesus. Speaking of Jesus, it’s Christmas, haha. That’s fun. Churches, gospel music, funerals maybe. Let’s praise whatever. Angels, demons, God. Everything all at the same time. A church pew..
the altar of our joys and hopes can so easily become the pyre of our nigthmares and shattered dreams. this altar we run around and is lead by, this god of our desires that so well and sometimes so badly govern our daily lives
we pursue those things that we think will bring us peace, but end up being persecuted by these our pains and fears. these fake altars where we offer ourselves to what in the end is only emptiness.
We sit at the altar and we worship. Some choose not to even approach, while others choose to devote themselves entirely. While we place such high significance on this thing, it is, afterall, a human creation. We have have been instructed on why and how to build it, but our own blood has gone into its creation as well.
sentada en un altar está la gradiosa princesa, dando órdenes inverosímiles, señalando con sus dedos incorruptibles a sus leales sirvientes para que cumplan con sus deseos increíbles.
Where we begin another life. Where there is an end and a beginning all at the same time but no one ever stops to think about it, it’s just a kiss and a walk and things are forever changed.
Jilted and saved. “Better sooner than later” they keep saying. That’s their consolation. Truth is, I knew he’d bolt; but it didn’t matter to me, I was bored, I just didn’t know how to get rid of him.
I’m nearly at the altar. I never thought I would make it here. I didn’t even have a boyfriend during high school, didn’t get my first kiss until college, and then it was with him. I always felt strange because I didn’t have anyone, but it was worth it it, worth waiting for him. We’re perfect for each other, and as I as I walk up the aisle toward him, see his smile glowing on his face, I know we’ll be together forever.
I loved the son of a priest once. He was good to me. He worshiped me. I was his god, his altar, his saint. He loved me. It was all the power I needed.
She laid her athame at the alter, stood back whilst a great sigh left the depths of her body.
She had done all she could, now it was up to the universe…
“he’s trying to get me to sacrifice myself on the alter of ‘david’,”she angrily thought to herself as she seated herself down on a broken stump.she looked at her bleeding and cut open side,”but that’s an avenue i’ve been down too many times already.too many freakin’ times!i don’t know how,but i’m gonna kill this bastard
THE ANCIENT ISRAELITE MADE AN ALTAR TO JEHOVAH GOD THE CREATOR\
ABRAHAM MADE ONE ALSO FOR SACRIFICING HIS SON ISAAC
It was as if she was placed on a pedestal, an altar of sorts. With no way to climb down, and no courage to fall, it was her reality to sacrifice her own well-being to the heavens in order to ensure the safety of others.
it’s a place where people go to pray,to worship a divinity,it’s sort of sacre i guess and to some persons it has a special meaning .It’s not necessary about god,it’s the feeling of belief and of faith.
We met at the altar. One on each side facing each other. Our friends stood about in straggly clumps in borrowed jackets and pinned up dresses. Somewhere my mother stood strong under her beehive and glared at me. Nothing seemed real except that altar and the space we drew around ourselves that became sacred.
One there was a man named Billybobbill the III. BillyBob was a very lonely man except for him and his cat Chester who he fed goat milk and tuna balls. Billybo loved Chester so much he decided to marry him and the altar. Chester was a strange cat. He played the ukulele and shoved spinach up his nose. Chester loved to play pattycake with his did and uncle both respectively named ahlalalahah and hohohohehe. They got married and traveled to Bermuda where they both play jacks and eat coconuts under the sunset. Lalalalalalalalalla I’m roger the rabbit.