Sunday morning: I could feel religious
But then again too much so to join in
Manhandling the miracle of the mass
So I will just sit with the homeless now
Panhandling for miracles on the grass
Like finding a quarter somebody lost
Writing as honestly as I know how
While keeping to myself how much it cost
Here as everywhere that white-collar sin
Of the influential and prestigious
Redeems the rapists of the ruling class
Wiping their smug souls clean within the hour
With minimal inconvenience to all
So they can rush back to wielding the power
Which binds us in the darkness one and all
They own everything including the priest
We pass no protestant collection plates
But velvet alms-bags stuffed with envelopes
Unrattled by the loose change of the least
By these our masters would control our fates
And since they own them freely dash the hopes
Of those who only ask that they might live
But the best lives now are sold for money
The rest of us just want God to forgive
The joke is on us no longer funny
The priest just another snout at the trough
If they could they would not let me be there
I cannot pass the means-test given here
Nor could my Lord so we have taken off
But I think he is with me everywhere
Except back there with those people I fear
We will stay where life is free and sunny
Out among the broken where the wind blows
While the fat and lazy priest goes to brunch
To root out any crumbs which got away
His snout smells money and he has a hunch
That the swine will be first on Judgment Day
They have theirs now but someday I want mine
"The first shall be last" I heard Jesus say
And it is he who gives the bread and wine
His body and blood unite with my own
His priest went to brunch and we are alone
Steven,
I myself have always preferred being last for many things. Your poetic express "Private Mass" really expresses a truth of the dark selfish hearts on this earthly life & also your words speak of the selflessness of the good hearts.
I was greeted by some beautiful church ladies one summer day as I was rotto-tillin my yard for my garden & I was dressed in the lovely cloth of God's dirt to say the least & these beautifully dressed ladies with gold & diamonds & make-up on sneered at the filthy sight of me...I was tempered by that to say the least of their ugly hearts judging me for being close to God my way! Ha! lol :)
Growing up Catholic, I can honestly say, I've been there - the problem with most religions is mankind's interpretation of what God is saying - fitting it to fit their ideals - you know? I don't go to church anymore, because of man's traditions supercede the message - that doesn't mean I don't belive, because I do - Still, an excellent, eye opening write - very well penned.
(((HUGS))) and love, Karla.
And continue to sit with the homeless - most wouldn't bother.
you are probally right in your take,but i say come with me to an evening mass ,walk through the shadows,into a mostly empty church for the monday evening mass for peace..there you can not help but feel ..that something special....not felt onSunday mornings.....
stan
I like this poem "Private Mass" strong wording and fantastic presentation overall.
Guess one could possibly say this sums it up in one neat little nut shell. Hope you are well and happy as always.
Robin Ouzman Hislop's poetry is certainly in dialogue with some of the key architects of the 'poetics of indeterminacy' – both the Modernist strands represented by the likes of Beckett and Stein, and the postmodernist strands represented, initially,
Contraband Marriage, traveling along the hemline of loving after incarceration, is a love story written in lyric and free form, set in reality with a different ever after.
Mary Angela Nangini's poems celebrate the richness of life and love. From the city to cottage-country and the roads in between, Nangini explores the changing seasons of her varied region. (This book will soon be reprinted in hard cover.)
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I myself have always preferred being last for many things. Your poetic express "Private Mass" really expresses a truth of the dark selfish hearts on this earthly life & also your words speak of the selflessness of the good hearts.
I was greeted by some beautiful church ladies one summer day as I was rotto-tillin my yard for my garden & I was dressed in the lovely cloth of God's dirt to say the least & these beautifully dressed ladies with gold & diamonds & make-up on sneered at the filthy sight of me...I was tempered by that to say the least of their ugly hearts judging me for being close to God my way! Ha! lol :)
Embrasse'
Vickie
Growing up Catholic, I can honestly say, I've been there - the problem with most religions is mankind's interpretation of what God is saying - fitting it to fit their ideals - you know? I don't go to church anymore, because of man's traditions supercede the message - that doesn't mean I don't belive, because I do - Still, an excellent, eye opening write - very well penned.
(((HUGS))) and love, Karla.
And continue to sit with the homeless - most wouldn't bother.
well written, thanks, ~D.
stan
I like this poem "Private Mass" strong wording and fantastic presentation overall.
Guess one could possibly say this sums it up in one neat little nut shell. Hope you are well and happy as always.
Continued blessings and take care,
~Gwendolyn