My name isn't Jesus, it is pronounced Hey-seus,
I am not the son of GOD, I worship Zeus,
I cannot turn water into wine, nor can I raise the dead
Nor can I feed my family, with a double loaf of bread.
I wasn't born in Bethlehem, I was born in Spain
Earth it is my home, and heaven is not my domain,
I do not turn the other cheek, and I will not accept any abuse
I will swear and I will fight; as I am not Jesus, but Hey-seus.
My name isn't Jesus, once again it is Hey-seus,
Men I will steal from, and women I enjoy to seduce,
My mother wasn't a virgin, the day when I was conceived
As there are six other siblings that were born before me.
The devil he is my buddy, so I truly enjoy to sin
What others won’t say or do, I will! Again, and again,
These are the facts, they are the truth and not an excuse,
My name it is not Jesus; it is pronounced, Hey-seus.
Randy L. McClave
Read this poem in other languages
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
Comments about this poem (Not Jesus by Randy McClave )
The Road Not Taken
If You Forget Me
Still I Rise
Edgar Allan Poe
I Know Why The Caged Bird Sings
Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening
William Ernest Henley
- essay # i'll never know, gordon nosworthy
- I See The Sun, Pijush Biswas
- Variety of doors!, Dr.V.K. Kanniappan
- What is superior?, gajanan mishra
- Mind, Gangadharan nair Pulingat..
- WE ARE TEMPORARILY HERE, MOHAMMAD SKATI
- Waxing Grandiloquent, Margaret Alice Second
- When The Evening Light Comes, Pijush Biswas
- Hindi haiku (56-60), S.D. TIWARI
- Retirement (or) Till Your Last, Natarajan Ramaseshan