His life, he’d been frequently told,
Was a stepping stone to
Something better. His growing religious convictions
Taught him about the different levels
Of god.
The innocent child, sacrificial man, distant father,
Steadfast sister and mother.
It taught him not to lust after his pretty neighbours,
Man or woman, nor to daydream
Of unlikely trysts with all the inherent dangers
Involved but to expend his energies
In religious ecstasy instead
Agonising inwardly over the beatitude
And the internal landscape of the soul.
By the time he was forty, he reckoned
He’d got a raw deal. No money, no career,
No friends, just a lot of ****** prayers.
They put her coffin gently in
And he cried, watching it disappear
Unable to think of heaven.
He was not consoled now
By thoughts of
Infinite life.
The slow sounding of a repetitious tune
Amongst cloudy vistas of
Over egged benevolence.
He’d missed the boat, through
Worshipping too much. A rotund
Middle-aged man
With a sagging mind, brown teeth
And old fashioned clothes.
All he had now were his church
And his mother’s dying friends.
He threw dust over his mother’s grave
And walked softly away.
Apr 4, 2016
Apr 4, 2016 at 1:00 AM UTC
His life, he’d been frequently told,
Was a stepping stone to
Something better. His growing religious convictions
Taught him about the different levels
Of god.
The innocent child, sacrificial man, distant father,
Steadfast sister and mother.
It taught him not to lust after his pretty neighbours,
Man or woman, nor to daydream
Of unlikely trysts with all the inherent dangers
Involved but to expend his energies
In religious ecstasy instead
Agonising inwardly over the beatitude
And the internal landscape of the soul.
By the time he was forty, he reckoned
He’d got a raw deal. No money, no career,
No friends, just a lot of ****** prayers.
They put her coffin gently in
And he cried, watching it disappear
Unable to think of heaven.
He was not consoled now
By thoughts of
Infinite life.
The slow sounding of a repetitious tune
Amongst cloudy vistas of
Over egged benevolence.
He’d missed the boat, through
Worshipping too much. A rotund
Middle-aged man
With a sagging mind, brown teeth
And old fashioned clothes.
All he had now were his church
And his mother’s dying friends.
He threw dust over his mother’s grave
And walked softly away.