A dyslexic writer laughing at himself ...

Wednesday, March 21, 2018

A Bad Poem 62 and 63

62_A Man Asked Me
Draft_1

A man asked me on the road today
“Where is God?”

I told him ---
                God is in the forest,
                Walking to the top of the hill,
                To see all the world in His glory,
                And to find a tree to read,
                A book under ---
                                                Title with your name.

But if you don’t want to go that far ---

                God is in the city,
                Sitting among the homeless,
                Listening to their songs,
                While rubbing their hands together,
                And He is saying ---
                                                At least the sun will rise on the morrow.

But if you don’t want to go that far ---

                You can go to His house,
                Knock on his door and,
                Say I’ve got a bone to pick with You,
                I have answers to demand,
                He’ll open the door ---
                                                                With a cup of tea.

But if you don’t want to go that far ---

                He will come to your house,
                Knock on your door,
                Say I’ve got a bone to pick with you,
                I have answers to demand,
                Forgiveness to give,

If you’ll open the door ---

                                                He’ll even bring the tea.


63_The Lonely Meal
Draft_1

The wintry wind be on the window,
Stares at the plates of food,
On my
                Table.

Begging to come in,
Telling me,
                A meal shared is better than a meal alone.

How unsure I am of this,
How the beating of mind whispers
We need a moment –

Days filled with tables,
Meals shared,
Wine drank,
Echoes of laughter,
My foul mouth speaking unsure wisdom,
My ears hearing wiser words then I could utter.

Yes, days and moments of joy,
gain over meals,
                Time, I needed for a while -

The wind knocks on the window,
The warmth inside wishing to
Feel a dreadful lover,
Beckons me to lower the shield,

Voices around me speaking of so much
                And
All the wind wishes is to be
Among the people,
To taste the food.

And yet, I sit here alone,
Not wishing for the bitter wind,
Or a warm soul,
A moment of stillness, is what I need,
A flash of time to breath.

The world moves around me,
But I am still with my pen,
Having a lonely meal,
A meal needed more than
                A shared one.   

No comments:

Post a Comment