"genuflecting" poems
BE THY OWN PALACE
Seated beside her
in the pew
her doll listened intently
to the Saviour who
emerges from
the old priest's mouth
an ectoplasm of words
as He manifests before her.
"Is there a doll heaven?"
she wonders.
Her little mistress however is
bored very bored indeed
much more interested in
a sunbeam genuflecting
before the altar
extinguishing the priest's voice.
Or the ladybird
landing on a lady's foxfur
it more jewel
than the jewel worn.
Picking her nose
as the host is
held aloft
a bird perched upon
the left shoulder of
the crucifix
the Christ a mere cypher
how the artist
fancied HIm.
The crucified man smiling at her
despite how boring the sermon is.
Sunlight becoming colour
travelling through stained glass.
Her doll nods off
falling at her feet
"Shhhhhh!" father scolds
both doll and daughter.
Doll's head broken in four
nothing inside but an emptiness
all her thoughts
evaporated.
The smile still fixed
on her porcelain face.
Incense like death
walking upon the air.
The tiny ******
of a bell.
Nov 2, 2018
Nov 2, 2018 at 6:54 PM UTC
foam floral caps, work of wet hydrangea,
or pulse of caucasian lilacs in a sky-relieved frieze.
cambric pennons swag reconsidering
margins of wimpling burn,
wherein the stars…twiring stars,
the declining stars, moon and planets
turned--
purchase light with morning-hands:
green-bedizened;
amber trammeling bud.
absolve qualm suffusing tyre,
violet’s violent leniency--
and feel, o’bask! in velvet
flume of veins,
as beams of conspiracy raise
to post and lintel,
crutching a young god’s legs--
and feel, o’supplicate! bathe in
day’s anatomies,
til greave deposit in lacunary sleeves,
and a genuflecting sun bow eternally--
Jul 25, 2018
Jul 25, 2018 at 6:38 PM UTC
Is it my counter-counterclockwise
mind wasting time? Elbows
on the dining table pulling my angel
hair into grid-like times tables.
I’m invested in this non-conversation
table. Ich liebe dich, mein Freund.
I’ve got commitment issues and four-ply
tissues for when my eye lashes start
peeling apart. My grandpa died in 2005
and I’m all but over it. I’m holding
his kite string, but the reel is almost done,
like VHS tapes rewound then fast-forwarded
to the good times. Power Ranger birthday
and everyone’s wearing dunce caps
with elastic chin straps ‘til they snap.
Snap! Snap! Snap me back to three-years-old,
and I’m singing in a Robin costume
‘cause I knew I’d always be second best.
I had an identity crisis around fourteen,
so I stopped buying sunglasses
because I found myself in other
peoples’ shadows. But now the only shadows
they’re casting are the ones from their headstones
and from the fields of flowers cradling
them like they once cradled me.
Fast-forward, I’m genuflecting in gym shorts
before myself in a mirror smudged with plum
felt. And I seem small compared to my life
spelled out in Expo marker markings.
Oct 21, 2014
Oct 21, 2014 at 9:31 PM UTC
I am quiet in front of the ambient lights.
Confronted among these Ambien nights,
with alluvial life, a hot bed of technical idolatry-
It is hard in the valley of the sun
the people who over-extend
self, carry impotence and
a loaded gun-
The land of geriatrics filled with frolicking snowbirds
who cast out their alcoholic offspring
to grind under gears of the economic machine.
Modern man is genuflecting in the sanctimonious pantheon of self.
Feb 3, 2014
Feb 3, 2014 at 7:22 PM UTC
•
*
Oh my soulmate and king,
This soul is lamenting prodigiously,
I stretch my spirit's breathing,
And clasp tightly into my heart,
With my other hand outstretching to the sky,
Begging for mercy to end my utmost torment,
But I end up crouching in extreme pain,
My eyes are swollen, tears dried up,
Voice are hoarsen for hours of shrieking,
To lavish pity from above.
Oh my Lord and Saviour,
Extend this life for my lover,
I could not afford to rest in peace from my torture,
If I won't see a glimpse of his empyrean countenance,
Oh my God, my Lord,
These knees are bruised in genuflecting for my unceasing prayers,
Beseeching for your miracle to enfold me,
I am conquering, taking aching breaths at a time,
Rolling my eyes, biting my lips and tearing in this throe,
Oh Lord God,
Give me wings just for a day,
Give strength to it and help me to spread dauntlessly and fly to where my Brandon is,
I need my king's love and comfort,
I need to tell him how I cherish him,
I need to tell him how I love him so much,
I need to hug him and let him know I will always be with him,
Though the earth be shaken and the universe disintegrate,
He will wear my love like a crown,
And my love's assurance I will settle in his ring finger,
I will secure him for a queen should protect her king,
Though I won't be physically with him for long,
For I only have a day to keep breathing,
With agony I keep holding unto my hope,
To pull me up when I arch in hurt and grief,
But my psyche will be with him 'til infinity,
Oh My Lord, I will forever be with him.
Oh my Saviour,
Just PLEASE,
If I won't make it today,
And I won't be able to tell him all I want to say,
And do all I wanna do to him,
Just please my God,
Just please remind him always that I love him alone so much,
If he shed tears in lonesomeness when I am gone,
Please wipe his tears for me,
For I won't be able to hold him physically and comfort him,
Please my God, let him feel I am always with him,
Awaken his happiness oh Lord when am gone,
Rekindle his mind to read the poems I made for him,
Lord God, shelter him with your love,
I don't wanna see him shedding tears for me,
I want to limn smile in his mouth,
But I know it will be mourning for sorrow when I am no longer in this earth,
I am fighting hard to survive for him,
But I am so weak, my strength evaporated,
My voice disappeared and my hope almost relinquish,
Just please Oh God,
Let me rest in peace knowing he is safe in your arms,
Envelop him with console and exhilaration,
Just please be with him together with me always,*
Oh Lord God, I love him so so much!
with love <3
© Earl Jane
♥ E.J.C.S.
Dec 21, 2015
Dec 21, 2015 at 10:12 PM UTC
Tonight the fog settles
on the water reflecting
a dark mood, and the moon
is genuflecting to the blues
resting one knee on the cold
silent sea taking off his hat
as if to say *May I rise now
and take my leave and leave
you be, for tomorrow will
surely be a brighter day?*
Sep 26, 2016
Sep 26, 2016 at 9:00 PM UTC
*Every morning in my garden I see
A fluttering gentle little soprano
Humming the song of her life
Hovering around seductive colours
Tasting, sipping nature’s recipe
Fluttering wings, ****** heart beat
Waltzing in midair to a melody so sweet
Happy to be alive, genuflecting for gifts of life
Every morning in my garden I pray
I wish what she wished was a reality
Not an illusion, a self delusional creation
Her happiness momentary, squashed in infancy
Hawks, raptors, eagles await in anticipation
With scythes in their hands…
Sharpening them, vying with each other
Whose morsel shall she be
I wish what she wished was a reality
For her will there be a tomorrow …?*
Sep 11, 2014
Sep 11, 2014 at 2:48 AM UTC
Land of pain
and complaints
teaching it's young
the miserable lessons of failure
and injustice that went cruelly mad.
An island
with rugged shores
that turn in
on it's own populace.
Rising.
genuflecting
and falling 'fatefully'
again
into the puddles
of it's own demise.
All that remains
is an emerald sadness
filled with living ghosts.
Nov 8, 2010
Nov 8, 2010 at 5:54 AM UTC
♗ ♗ ♗ ♗ ♗ ♗ ♗
Hopery, changery, stranger-than-strangery
tip the good vicar your hat—
as he sits with Obama, the global Gautama
indulging in neighborly chat.
Popery, popery, changery-hopery
grant the old Pontiff his wish.
Then summon a bishop to season and dish up
a kettle of catechized fish.
Changery, hopery—swing from the ropery,
garnish the Vatican stew.
The Cardinals compassed, the media rumpused
the Protestants joined in, too…
Fakery, changery, safety in dangery
lack of direction was lost
as it became clear that no concord was near
and the threshold of lunacy crossed.
Changery-hopery, soap-on-a-ropery,
buy the Obama a beer.
Let the Lord’s liberation enlighten our nation
as forums and quorums get queer.
Hopery, changery, babe-in-a-mangery
hail the immaculate mess;
until limbo is purged and repentance is urged
and the canonized con-men confess.
Babilo-mockery, roll with the rockery
kiss the pontificate ring;
til’ the old Argentinian wax Constantinian
causing Gods angels to sing.
Jiggery-pokery fooling the folkery
monkery second to none…
what was once sacrilegious is now a religious
conventional focus of fun.
Papacy, lunacy piping the tunacy
Father goose mothered the egg –
but it cracked in the nest while the stupefied West
lit a match to a gunpowder keg.
Yessiree/nopery—smoking the dopery
opiates dulling the masses
who bow genuflecting, with candles reflecting
the shine of their Latinate *****
Fakery funkery, pachyderm trunkery
hierophants never forget
but the clown and his trainer cut loose the restrainer
and cancelled the circus’s debt.
Piggery, smokery, tighten the chokery
offer the refugees bacon;
their mullahs may howl with a slaughterhouse scowl
but the empire’s free for the takin’…
Apr 11, 2016
Apr 11, 2016 at 1:51 PM UTC
Beneath the crucifix I kneel,
Genuflecting before God,
Before our Father,
Before our priest,
He grabs me, holds me, drags me,
Out of sight,
Away from the eyes of mortal men,
He hits me, hurts me, breaks me,
Out of sight,
And all in the name of the Father.
Aug 31, 2012
Aug 31, 2012 at 7:49 PM UTC
your priggish mien is too obscene
your loftiness bought with a spoon
you believe you're great
but really your fate
will be to slink back inside your filigreed rooms
your palace won't talk or balk at your whims
shelter from the minions to be appeased therein
you'll be safely ensconced on your imaginary throne
though the "stupid" servants must remain
they'll cater to your delusions so puffed up and vain
sycophants, suck-ups, yes-men you require
ring-kissing genuflecting servitude for the sire
still your convoluted mind is so much muck and mire
owning a computer shan't make you a writer
possessing a library won't make you brighter
having a calculator doth not make a mathematician
dearth of dialectics and paucity of vocabulary
nary ever an orator or articulate politician
get back in your place witless purveyor of haste
your knee-jerk hackneyed spiel lacks fervor and taste
those that admire you are fools for the taking
as contrived and duplicitous as your majesty of faking
Aug 17, 2015
Aug 17, 2015 at 1:58 PM UTC
Moorish bell tower
orange brick or yellow
in a different light
I welcomed on seeing
it in sight,
extra ecclesiam
nulla salus
said Augustine
or so read,
red light
at altar end
and a monk
black robed
walked from cloister
to bell tower
stopping in the aisle
genuflecting
then walked off
to the right
in the half light,
dimidium lux
evening moon shone
through high windows
as bell tolled deep and heavy,
altum et grave
tolled bell out of sight
breaking the still silence
of the abbey where I sat
sensing the chill of evening,
Για όταν είμαι αδύναμος
τότε είναι που είμαι δυνατός
said Paul so read
in the epistle
he is strong when weak,
her two fruits pressed
against my naked chest
there may I rest said I
with a deep sigh,
soupir profond
taking in the chilled breath
in the air silence
of the abbey church,
Hugh said one
had walked
past his cell
making noise
in dawn's light
meaning me
but I ignored
etre comme le Christ
or so tried,
juger les personnes
et les choses dans
la lumière la plus
favorable à tout moment
said Dom James
quoting Vincent de Paul
in the novice's room
after terce,
she opened up
like a bird her wings
there her nest lay
and I engaged her
as she spoke
no laughter
no joke,
I weeded the graves
of the monks at rest
and moles had tunnelled
along side by the stones,
talpe di nuovo
the Italian monk said
pointing at the mounds
come piccole colline,
I knelt in the choir stalls
eyes closed
trying to capture
God's voice
but just silence,
sicut silentium
a pin could drop
and I'd hear
the deadly hush
I fear.
Dec 27, 2016
Dec 27, 2016 at 10:26 AM UTC
*There is nothing to be amassed
I am just a traveler passing by
Only surviving on nature’s bounty
Genuflecting to her kindness
Embracing me as her own
Humbled by her generosity
Treating everyone equally
For ages so many walked by
Trying to mind a meaning of self
Peacefully finding a resting place*
Aug 27, 2014
Aug 27, 2014 at 8:35 AM UTC
mind's collective.
a primary congregation
in chiaroscuro,
white axis
tilting black worlds
as stars lean
towards their gaseous disappearances.
mind's prison.
blood surging in staccato,
thumping like wild animals,
trundling underneath the womb
of genuflecting hills.
a cityscape is innervated
by electric wires and their
secretive jolts: this plunging light laying leschenaultia diadem
on my head naming me king
of shadows thriving inside
bells telling all buoys
with their rotund calisthenics.
all words elope stagnant rivers,
vexing truths out of horizons
painting them without color,
like the image of a dove trapped
in mirror's water, reaching
forth kingdom come.
Sep 26, 2015
Sep 26, 2015 at 12:43 AM UTC
From his rib, Eve was made
Genuflecting paralysis
Stuck in half down position
Or is it half up?
Thought I was on the rise
But immobility within reverence
Aslant to benevolence
Is quirky sacred stuff
Might just as well be penitent
For entirety of mankind's mishaps
Women's too
Can't discriminate, ya know
Pleasing it is to discover
A close assimilation to childbirth
My gargantuan **** plug
Is as close as I can aspire to
Fertility Goddess
Mar 31, 2016
Mar 31, 2016 at 12:17 PM UTC
I want to say please don’t leave,
I still have your coat in my wardrobe
and it looks like you can’t have gone far,
and please don’t leave, I don’t know
where else I’m supposed to stay
when it’s two in the morning
and everything feels like communion,
and please don’t leave, I am having to confront
how selfish I am.
So you’re leaving, and I’m trying to work out
if I should pack my memories into little boxes
and pretend that you’ve died, and you’re leaving
so I’m on the floor in my bedroom thinking
about going somewhere and trying to find Judas
or at least a tree with sturdy branches and the end
of a rainbow with thirty silver coins as compensation.
And now you’ve left, or at least made the decision
to leave, and here I am again trying to wave you off
with images in my mind of the Titanic leaving behind
everyone who couldn’t afford to die so grandly;
you’ve left, and I’m using metaphors to talk about this
because it’s easier than genuflecting and joining
a faceless pew - sorry, don’t think I’m calling myself Jesus
because I’m not. Really, I’m not. But you’ve left,
so don’t I have the right to call myself what I want?
It’s not like you’re here to stop me. There’s that word,
gone,
like it’s final, like you’ve joined the laundry list
of everyone who said they’d be there forever. You’re gone,
and I’m promising myself that I’ll stop being addicted
to people, only cigarettes and cheap wine and the feeling
of missing something when it isn’t quite packed up
into all of the final moving boxes just yet.
Aug 9, 2020
Aug 9, 2020 at 7:17 PM UTC
i arrogantly imagine
rain (splayed on the pavement) as something
too short to ****** with, in plea, so as to say that
genuflecting on a field of budding roses suddenly
blooms wide-eyed skies so brazenly, an aperture that
winks not abruptly to shed tear.
somewhere along the lambaste,
humidity takes form of a nauseating swathe
of demise and immediately, in transit, comes back,
a cold, haranguing wind – something borrowed,
something ephemeral, something that causes trouble
to the frail gestures of a rose, or a child in consummate siesta,
or simply the sudden intone of a band bursting midway
through the sullen thoroughfare –
colors seem to intensify, the world inflamed like
a contusion, the wind like a gaff maneuvering the
trees, and I, lost in somnolence, can only remember so much
of the afternoons lost wandering about nothing
when rain has happened and nothing existed before me
but the braille of seasons and the obsequious shadow
swayed by nothing but light’s silent radio; much like heaven
and I, here on Earth,
looking out in the rain;
Jan 26, 2016
Jan 26, 2016 at 1:15 AM UTC
BAA YOURSELF!
A cloud grazing
upon a hillside.
A sheep genuflecting
before a tuft of grass.
The Curragh spreads itself
before me
like a legendary
saint's cloak.
The cloud now visiting
the old English graveyard
stopping every now & then
to read a lichen eaten inscription.
The long dead bask
in the morning sunshine.
The sheep has found another
tuft of grass as nice
if not nicer than
the last one.
The cloud has left me
alone with my thoughts.
"We remember you. . . "
the Dead whisper.
"We sheltered you
In a broken tomb..."
"So you did..." I tell them ". . .so you did!"
"When the rains came...
...you used to come
& read to us
when studying for your Leaving."
"I liked to talk to the skies!" I said.
"You never got to finish
North and South. . ."
"Another time..." I said.
The furze burning yellow.
"Your sadness is...hurting us!"
the Dead whisper.
I leaving them gazing
at an infinity.
Their eyes upon the ever
changing skies.
"Baa!" a sheep comments.
"Baa!" it says again in case
I didn't hear it the first time.
I almost expected it
to say: "Humbug!"
"Baa. . .yourself!"
I tell it.
Aug 26, 2016
Aug 26, 2016 at 4:00 PM UTC
Dark evening,
trees swayed
by hard wind,
taxi lights
lit up
the abbey church,
domum Dei,
I stood
on the forecourt
peering at
the shadowy church,
I monaci sono
in chiesa
an Italian said,
I followed him
into the church
and we sat in
the side pews
in semi-darkness,
è Compieta
he said,
I nodded
and stared ahead
at the one red light
at the altar end,
a monk
dressed in black
walked
from cloister
to the bell tower
genuflecting
towards the altar
end first,
Dom Peter
the man said
pointing
at the monk,
other monks
came in
and genuflecting
took their places
in the choir stalls
either side
of the church
and stood facing
the altar end,
then once all
the monks
had settled
the lights
went out
and a voice
chanted out
converte me Deus,
other monks
chanted on
in the dark,
the world outside
living it up
and down,
here
just darkness
and chants
and an embracing silence
accompanying
the chanting.
Oct 15, 2016
Oct 15, 2016 at 2:15 PM UTC
*oh, the poet
antagonist to the good and evil alike
a sobbing child
let lose in the world
with words and appetites piqued and sensual
transgressors of the middle class
and dull speak
their literary magnitude
sometimes perfume and sometimes stench
dripping on wet pages
written by electric brains
nimble figures and wet crotches
to relieve themselves of stupidities accumulations
wrought by their culture
mired in stink think
of either or
from the head up
high minded saints
from the hips down
undulating demons
each in denial of the other
a buffet of lies
the poet
purging private pleasures and torments
for the bemusement of the world
laid-out on the page
like public masturbations
for all to see in the theater of the ear
genuflecting
with mellifluent grace
and silver tongued appreciations*
Oct 1, 2017
Oct 1, 2017 at 12:32 PM UTC
TO THINK, PEOPLE BELIEVE
IN god WHOM I HAVE ALWAYS
VIEWED AS A LOW CASE
FABRICATION, ACCESSED
BY A DOWNING OF THE
BROW, GENUFLECTING, BY
KNEELING OR BY DYING, IS
BETTER BY FAR THAN ANY
MAGIC OR FAIRYTALE, EVEN
MORE THAN THE GRIMMS
COULD HAVE CONJURED UP.
Oct 27, 2018
Oct 27, 2018 at 7:28 AM UTC
My love of being self employed,
Is easily explained:
A lack of genuflecting,
And a sunny outdoor trade.
Jul 19, 2017
Jul 19, 2017 at 4:51 AM UTC
You think you know because you read something on the internet
And your wife’s best friend’s cousin knows someone with it
So you have all the answers and cannot be wrong
Dave down the pub reckons it is all a scam and really they are just a bit thick
And he knows because he is Dave and Dave knows **** especially when seven pints in (God he is ******* funny; what a legend)
We are the problem with the world
The world that is only for the entrepreneur
Not the ones who see through the smokescreen
Wanting to give love to everyone, using intimidating genders and pronouns, instead of glorifying the economies of scale
But they are the snake oil salespeople
So go back to your cave of gossip and rumours; evolution has stalled for you
Genuflecting at the feet of those paid influencers who tell you how to live your life with fictitious remedies of being
Leaving us to mop up your mess
Too ******* stupid, too ******* greedy to save the earth
Too ******* stupid, too ******* greedy to end poverty
Too ******* stupid, too ******* greedy to accept
Too
*******
Stupid
You
Greedy
****
Sep 28, 2025
Sep 28, 2025 at 4:34 AM UTC