Why do the pundits write and write
of theological dispute
God’s causes
and their fright
of humanity, chaotic, uncontrite
The best minds, pedigrees
and intentions
assembled in a phalanx
firm and true
formed by orthodoxy
code for the boys
that got the power
kept the power
don’t want You
to get the power
What those dudes need
is a poetry slam
lines spewed rat-a-tat-tat
punctuated by a this and that
fist punching air
heavy with enthusiasm
jubilation at word sparring
syllables slippery with spit
foot targeting the invisible object
of derision, revision, revulsion
At the end of the night
at the end of the light
naked, raw and humbled
each eye seeks a mirror
each hand reaches for connection
each breath yearns for the next breath
each soul leans towards heaven
each voice hopes for another chance
to whisper
a prayer
How is pancetta a panacea
How is tradition a balm
Where is the fault in saying
Abba, Yahweh, Allah,
God Save
The weary from their toil
The weeping from their sorrow
The lost from their wandering
God Save
the sinners from the righteous
Tuesday, April 14, 2009
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2 comments:
I love the last 5 lines best of all.
So right, Lelanda. Thanks so much for this!!
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