Christal Ann Rice Cooper

Christal Ann Rice Cooper
Christal Ann Rice Cooper March 2017

Wednesday, November 18, 2015

Persona Poems On Rev. Jim Jones And His Final Sermon. . .

Christal Cooper


*Poems copyright by C.A. Cooper


Jadeite Jim

They say I’m a sexual deviant
To their virgins
daughters, wives, sisters
Biblically speaking.

I also know their sons, fathers, brothers
I’m the only love they know.

Those capitalists can kiss my ass,
They’re Judas’s sisters and brothers
I would kiss them as Judas did.

Where are you, My son?
Come here, My child.
Yes stay.
Sit in my lap.
Do to me what Ham did to Noah.

Don’t cry.
This is how love
feels.

I’d give my thirty pieces of silver.              
to convert Judas’s sisters to socialism
I’d convert her to do some other things.
I’ll let you figure that one out on your own.

Rev Jim Jones Rants!




Mad Giggler Gone Sane

I’ve always known
Change comes through a barrel of guns.
But I was sensitive and humane

How you could be the daughter
Of a closed-mouth woman, I’ll never know
Then you get your hole talking

Just to make your ass look good
And these two days
Somebody could have run over the hill

And caused trouble
Because you told that we didn’t have our guns loaded.
I’m tired of - being the only one who

Understands.  I made plans for
Your treason years ago.
I only trust myself!

I look at my faults analytically
Because I have none!  But,
Weapons I got – to destroy

Stupid-piss-ant holes like you
I got claws, compasses, guns, dynamite,
Perfect warrior soul

All you stupid piss-ants hear this:
Get nervous!
Well, I got all kinds of things in store

For you persecutors, stupid-piss-ants
All my eggs are in different baskets,
But not your filthy basket.

Sodomite, harlot, jezebel
I ought to shove my prick up your ass
Man hole, woman hole, - all the same

Like that hole in the ground
People who don’t know I’m,
Meaningful, wonderful

Gonna go down that hole,
Gonna freeze to death, burn
We lost one white one,

We got one black,
And one blue
Another still in that hole

And now you, with your mouth talking
A filthy hole
Your ass is grass.


“It is said by the greatest of prophets from time immortal: "No man may take my life from me; I lay my life down." So to sit here and wait for the catastrophe that's going to happen on that airplane--it's going to be a catastrophe. It almost happened here. Almost happened when the congressman was nearly killed here. You can't steal people's children. You can't take off with people's children without expecting a violent reaction.

Rev Jim Jones Death Tape Final Sermon Part 1/5

Now what's going to happen here in a matter of a few minutes is that one of those people on that plane is going to shoot the pilot--I know that. I didn't plan it, but I know it's going to happen. They're gonna shoot that pilot and down comes that plane into the jungle. And we had better not have any of our children left when it's over because they'll parachute in here on us.                                                  

Rev. Jim Jones Death Tape Final Sermon Part 2 /5


I'm going to be just as plain as I know how to tell you. I've never lied to you. I never have lied to you. I know that's what's gonna happen. That's what he intends to do, and he will do it. He'll do it.

Rev. Jim Jones Death Tape Final Sermon Part 3/5

What's with being so bewildered with many, many pressures on my brain, seeing all these people behave so treasonous--there was too much for me to put together, but I now know what he was telling me. And it'll happen. If the plane gets in the air even.

Rev. Jim Jones Death Tape Final Sermon Part 4/5

So my opinion is that you be kind to children and be kind to seniors and take the potion like they used to take in ancient Greece and step over quietly because we are not committing suicide; it's a revolutionary act. We can't go back; they won't leave us alone. They're now going back to tell more lies, which means more congressmen. And there's no way, no way we can survive.”


Rev. Jim Jones Death Tape Final Sermon Part 5/5

Jim Jones
November 18, 1978
In Guyana




BLACK BABY

Marcy Jones Sings


Black baby
No turning back
Drink tonight –
For we are under attack

All my black-headed babies:
Come to me.
It’s not from the desert or the animals.
The devil’s spawn is here
To kill me for doing God’s work.

No more need to fly
Black baby
It’s time to die.

Our black boy babies
Flew away.

Jim Junior, Tupper Tim and Stephen are gone
throwing balls into baskets!

You said winning the game
would put the government to shame

The Johannesburg government said crops
at the hill bottoms would grow.
They didn’t say how daily monsoons
would roll over the crops
in waves so strong.

surrender to this God-man
You’re going to live in a better land.

Come to me, my children, my grandchildren,
This is the word of God:
*Come to me, all who are weary and heavy
Laden, and I will give you rest.

Black Baby
It’s time to die
I want you to walk with your head held high.

Marcy? 
I need it now, the syringe.

Black Baby
It’s time to die.
I want you to walk with your head held high. . . . . . .

I am God the Father, The Son, and The Holy Ghost
And you are my children and this is the word of God:
**This cup is poured which is poured out for you
Is the covenant in my blood

I want you to drink from the planted cup.
I want you to let this love fill you up.

My own people betrayed me
They left with our enemy Congressman Ryan.
If I hated more, loved less
We wouldn’t have this trouble

Love will make us grow
Love will give us the chance
To walk down freedom’s road

They say love is something to fight for
Martin Luther King Jr. preached love
John F. Kennedy preached love!
Look what love did.

When out of man’s hearts
All hate is gone
Love will right every wrong.

My children who left with those spies
Are dead.  God revealed the bodies
of Congressman Ryan,  his news reporters, our Judases
But you, my children, belong to me.

Black baby
As the years go by
God will tell you why.

Drink!
Go to the other side
To that land of milk and honey.
Oh my children, there’s no reason to cry
Drink from my cup

Please get in line
Before we run out of time
Drink from my cup
Only good will come.

Black Baby
I want you to stand in line tall and proud
And wait your turn for the planted cup.

Hurry!  Be free of those Russian spies
raping our women and hurting our children
This is a sweet sleep.

You’ll have what your Mommy and Daddy
Never had
And live in a better land.

Oh Mama!  Oh Mama!
I remember as a baby
She’d rock me and sing:

As you grew up
As the years rolled by
You were the apple
Of your Mama’s eye.

The first time I felt guilt was when
A little dog died
And I wanted to commit suicide.
But Mama talked me out of it.

Rock a black baby
In the cross top
Where your cradle for three days shall rock

I am your Father,
Sister,
Brother,
Husband,
Everything!
Partake! 

Black Baby
Drink from this planted cup
That will forever runneth over.

I have a cup
Just because you can’t see
Doesn’t mean it’s not here.


Oh ye children of little faith.



*Matthew 11:28
**Luke 22:21



Other Poems Written By Chris Rice Cooper



































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