The Time I Wrote a Bunch of Poems – ‘C’

I found this website for National Poetry Writing Month (NaPoWriMo) and I’m excited to see that there might be a community for me as I try my hand at this poetry writing experiment! It’s a bit lonely out here trying something that is so new to me and I feel vaguely ridiculous…so I’m psyched to see that there might be like-minded folks out there who write poems, just because.

If you are so inclined, maybe you’d like to try, too? Poetry is fun and it’s also nice to play with form. And NaPoWriMo has some nice prompts…

Here’s today’s poem:

Can you tell me why the wind sounds lonelier in the night when it swirls outside my window?

Does it feel alone

Edged out by the sun and abandoned in a darkness pricked only by the

Faint light of distant stars?

God lives up there or so they taught me dressed in prim plaid, royal blue and polyester white.

Heavy with guilty sweat

In the old brick building as we sat, heads bowed before the Lord

Jesus, it’s hot in here

Knee socks on hard, red plastic bumps pressed grooves into flesh, our hands hanging limp over the ledge

Long ago

My heart was full of believing, a moon of unwavering faith that could

Never be shaken

Or at least not while I was being seen and not heard through hazy clouds of myrrh.

Perhaps we are

Quivers containing arrows that pierce without meaning, with tips that tear and gash at the fabric of morality

Reverse the threaded needle because

Someone will always be incensed, livid, outraged and diabolical, as red-eyed rage seethes beneath the smoothly deceptive brow.

That gushing thurible cannot

Unlock the cage that traps a wailing soul clawing at silver bars rusted over

With tears dripping like blood.

Excelsis Deo blares from the organ’s copper in early summer heat as stained glass casts blobs of red and blue and gold

Vivid on marble.

Yesterday I saw the fraying edges of a mantel coming undone, its gilded layers forming an imaginary

Zenith. But

Ambrosial sustenance, that nectar pulsing with life encased in a promise within a promise

Bewitches us, still.

photo credit: situp via photopin (license)

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