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terry-olearyPoems
I go to church each Sunday, God warns ‘there’s much to fear, the world is decomposing, the final end is near’. I go to church each Sunday and taste the wine and bread, though elsewhere on our globus raw hunger reigns instead. I go to church each Sunday, hear preachers’ words rebuff repentant pauper’s pleading ‘enough is not enough’. I go to church each Sunday, watch candles burning bright although they don’t enlighten the demons of the night. I go to church each Sunday to wash away my sin, while prophets make their profits with wars that do us in. I go to church each Sunday, think thoughts incessantly of all our planet’s peoples denied equality. I go to church each Sunday, sit peacefully in the nave while folks afar seek, grieving, throughout a boundless grave. I go to church each Sunday to view iconic forms alive in lancet windows that hide unholy storms. I go to church each Sunday, discharge the weekly tithe, while others pay the piper when Reaper whets his scythe. I go to church each Sunday regard the holy bell, reflecting on the wastelands where day and night they knell. I go to church each Sunday, hear persons of the cloth disguise the hell hereafter with wartime victory froth. I go to church each Sunday, half perched upon a pew; with everything so hopeless, what else can one but do? I go to church each Sunday, and gaze upon the steeple, majestic as the rockets that plunge on placid people. I go to church each Sunday to hear the choir’s song keep time with banshees shrieking within a world gone wrong. I go to church each Sunday (above, doves fly in flocks), while far flung realms are flattened beneath the wings of hawks. I go to church each Sunday and pray so oft for peace, but still the death continues, it never seems to cease. I go to church each Sunday to sing sad psalms of praise, while distant drones are humming o’er bodies burnt, ablaze. I go to church each Sunday, a quest to save my soul ’gainst warfare’s pride and plunder - prayer never plays a role. I go to church each Sunday my errors to confess, while countries keep on killing and suffer no redress. I go to church each Sunday the future for to see - a man-made Armageddon that ends humanity.
0
Dec 14, 2024
Dec 14, 2024 at 12:55 PM UTC
I Go To Church Each Sunday
I go to church each Sunday, God warns ‘there’s much to fear, the world is decomposing, the final end is near’. I go to church each Sunday and taste the wine and bread, though elsewhere on our globus raw hunger reigns instead. I go to church each Sunday, hear preachers’ words rebuff repentant pauper’s pleading ‘enough is not enough’. I go to church each Sunday, watch candles burning bright although they don’t enlighten the demons of the night. I go to church each Sunday to wash away my sin, while prophets make their profits with wars that do us in. I go to church each Sunday, think thoughts incessantly of all our planet’s peoples denied equality. I go to church each Sunday, sit peacefully in the nave while folks afar seek, grieving, throughout a boundless grave. I go to church each Sunday to view iconic forms alive in lancet windows that hide unholy storms. I go to church each Sunday, discharge the weekly tithe, while others pay the piper when Reaper whets his scythe. I go to church each Sunday regard the holy bell, reflecting on the wastelands where day and night they knell. I go to church each Sunday, hear persons of the cloth disguise the hell hereafter with wartime victory froth. I go to church each Sunday, half perched upon a pew; with everything so hopeless, what else can one but do? I go to church each Sunday, and gaze upon the steeple, majestic as the rockets that plunge on placid people. I go to church each Sunday to hear the choir’s song keep time with banshees shrieking within a world gone wrong. I go to church each Sunday (above, doves fly in flocks), while far flung realms are flattened beneath the wings of hawks. I go to church each Sunday and pray so oft for peace, but still the death continues, it never seems to cease. I go to church each Sunday to sing sad psalms of praise, while distant drones are humming o’er bodies burnt, ablaze. I go to church each Sunday, a quest to save my soul ’gainst warfare’s pride and plunder - prayer never plays a role. I go to church each Sunday my errors to confess, while countries keep on killing and suffer no redress. I go to church each Sunday the future for to see - a man-made Armageddon that ends humanity.
Spurred on by and inspired by my pal M.G.
Written by
terry-oleary
Dec 14, 2024
Dec 14, 2024 at 12:55 PM UTC
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