A Child Heaving Rocks at the Foot of a Mountain

November 7, 2011

I pray to satisfy that habit
and quieten that impulse
that sends me home rolling with bricks
self, I’m not a railway for your venial faults
I hail from a family of fidgeters
and clumsy dressers
I live without thorns
I’ve shed my fervor and feverish hopes
after all the things I have seen
my spirit is worse for wear,and
my soul is a derelict gallery
yet I pray despite my mild beliefs
and unanswered questions

I’m a matter-of-fact person
an unpolished minimalist
but I have yet to let go of God
for when i go home
I close my eyes to every pretend soul shiner in town
lit the fire inside and
throw away all the blown up situations
that do not go anywhere
every day I hear how the world is going down the hole
how I engineer destruction around the planet
how my greed enable others to exploit and oppress
how my uncanny knack for all things mediocre affect the atmosphere
how my lack of resolution is robbing the ground we all stand on
how my apathetic disregard for others is what will do me in the end
and soon,I hear, darkness will grind the last inspired minds until
all the world is channelled through the fetid cave of a mad clown gobling up
our mashed up bones and marrow

drained and severely unkind, no longer a man,
I turn to the source of good
trying to recapture that image of God
underneath the filth I’ve become
I pray so that I may not be defined by the absence
of God

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One Response to “A Child Heaving Rocks at the Foot of a Mountain”

  1. Roger Mugs Says:

    hm. fascinating writing.
    sounds as though you’re saying God is dependent on your prayers for his existence. an interesting thought if its not God about whom you’re talking.


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