The silence stretches for an eternity
As do the millions of unconfessed sins,
Whispering in the ears of penitents
Like secrets kept too long in the dark.
The stale smell in the room is oddly comforting
As if a warm blanket has covered the soul
There is a presence in the room, a chill
I don't know if it's God or I am sick.
A dark curtain stands in front of me
Behind it is a man so close to Heaven,
He can touch the clouds with his fingers
I am miles away from that place.
I kneel before the dark curtain, hot as the sun
I bless myself with eyes welling up with tears
"Forgive me father for I have sinned,
It's been years since my last confession..."
There is so much guilt in my small heart,
Poisoning me to do more wrongdoings
I know that if I don't release this pain,
It'll eat me alive like a raging cannibal.
So, I let the tears fall and the words come,
Taking off my armor of sin and fear at last.
it has been over a decade
since my last confession;
that crisp lenten day,
you in your purple,
I refused to come in,
because I had committed nothing
worth an intermediary.
under lock and key,
anxious not to make trouble,
a natural people pleaser,
what could I child do but
laugh at sin?
today my prayers are mingled -
a clutter of languages and deities:
my god is one but also many.
I’m not even Catholic anymore,
But for old time’s sake,
will you listen?
Sister Magdalene had her own parking space
in the lot of the church where my grandfather
placed his hand on my shoulder.
Over the other, Joan of Arc whispered a joke
about the Father.
Something about bad breath.
I giggled a fragmented
As a young girl I dreamt of the honor
of battle and the burden
of armor. Each morning I’d awake,
my wrist sore from painting fields
menstrual red. My thighs ached.
My horse's name was Gust.
She was the color of overcast.
Once, she got so tired
she kneeled. When she stood
her stomach held the night sky.
I laid beneath her and named stars
from bits of her fur
until the field began to whisper so loud
that I woke.
Sister Magdalene sat in the first row of pews.
Her skeleton hands held a candle. The flame
tip-toed up her habit with the resolve
of a field of corpses rolling their eyes
toward salvation. When the flame
reached her chin I bit my lip.
Joan asked what’s wrong
or what’s right.
My mouth was full.
The flame grew to reach the Father,
kneeling at the feet of a cadaver.
I listened to the church bend
in the heat until Joan begged that we leave.
Based on Otto Dix's 1914 painting, The Nun
Do I consider myself a heathen?
What is the definition of a heathen?
A Loved One
We are One!
All my friends are heathen. S take it slow
what am I?
if nothing but ash and clay
mixed together until you recognize this face
is it the face of my Lord, like he said?
or is my soul too lost
for you to find him within me anymore?
if what they say is true
and you whispered in the ear
of a man begging for God’s mercy
a message of acceptance and love
if what they say is true
and you know that God loves
every person he created
then blessed be the world
and I will raise my heart up
to the Heavens for my Lord
as I have wanted to for so long
for I believe my God loves us
and my sexuality has no bearing
on anything more
than whom I love
If man knows not of love he is to have
How have he love what he cannot conceive.
Must love be planted lest it is foreknown?
The seed be sewn and stoic walls around
Like Jericho, they crumble to the ground.
By Christ your soul is lifted to the sun,
Lifted you'll be if God's pure work be done.
Now Let him in, push pride and sin aside,
Or don't you know on that cross your God died.
I've made many promises
each one I devote.
Some I've kept well,
others I broke.
But my bones are now weak
from the weight of my past.
Just in time to kneel down,
and take rest at long last.
I have found your arms, Lord.
I place my life in your lap.
I give my heart in good faith
you'll keep it warm in your grasp.
I accept you, God Almighty.
I'll use your Flesh to nourish mine.
I'll praise your Name in my speech,
and taste your Blood in my wine.
I'll give thanks for this life
and take you with me where I go.
Knowing once I am gone,
you'll give me a home.
I can't promise I'll be perfect,
but this promise I will do:
"I promise now until the day I die,
I'll live each day through You."
Les cloches de la petite église
Font retentir au **** leur voix,
dans la vallée secrète qui dort au fond des âmes.
Nous l’avions presque oublié, perchés que nous sommes
sur les hauteurs de notre ego.
Venez, mes frères!
On nous invite
A l’épreuve de la joie.
Et l’air, soudain, prend la saveur glacée,
Des matinées d’hiver;
La journée sera froide.
Rappelle-toi, mon âme:
Tu es poussière,
Livré aux humeurs de la tempête,
Jusqu’à ce que Ses mains sublimes
Te cueillent et te protègent.
There is only one true God
So I was told
All others are false
It is He that rules
It was Him who created life
Yet the old stories of others linger
Those who He has proclaimed as false
Those who came before him
He is a jealous man
Hellbent on *******
His followers wish to conquer in his name
To burn all the other gods from the sky
But they refuse to leave
They linger in myths and stories of old
His dark desires will not ***** them out
A dictator in disguise
No more say I
Bring back the gods of old
The tales of the Greeks
The hymns of the Hindus
The legends of the Egyptians
All the gods who were snuffed out
By His “holy” light
Which only cast a dark shadow upon humanity
They say God is infallible
Perfect beyond compare
All things good
All things great
Arrogance is His
The gods of old had faults and flaws
The gods of old suffered as we suffered
They are closer to humanity than Him
They are closer to the Earth than Him
I want the old gods back
They were better than Him
I was raised Catholic but later went down the path of witchcraft. Haha woops