Exaltation

A 2020 poem

Not left behind

Flown

Eyes twinkled

Flash

Home at last

Free

Image by Geralt

https://pixabay.com/illustrations/banner-header-light-flash-949943/

Muffled Sounds

A 2020 poem

I am not a prophet

There is a stillness 

Betrayed by voices, indistinct

The voice of God?

The voice of the dead?

The voice of neighbours, slightly raised?

A trumpet is sounding

We hear the noise

Oblivious to the call

A summons to war?

A call to prayer?

The neighbours playing Louis Armstrong?

Whisper whisper whisper

Driving us insane

I don’t know what to do 

I don’t know what to do!

We put on our headphones

A procrastination

Image by Luisella Planeta Leoni from Pixabay

https://pixabay.com/photos/girl-relaxation-listening-music-3231703/

Beyond The Walls

A 2020 poem

I tried

I really tried

I tried SO HARD!

But I just couldn’t do it!

The box in front of me

No longer a box but a thin rectangle

It takes up half the room

This idol just sits there

Longing to be worshipped

Feeding my eyes and brain

I stare transfixed

Not daring to turn it off

I don’t want to miss a thing

I’m happy to hear the same old thing

The same old fear

Minute by minute

This is my world

The scariest place

The righteous and the unrighteous

I have forgotten what it looks like beyond the walls

I see few people

Mostly talking heads telling me what to do

Reading out numbers of the fallen

Wash your hands, you sinners!

You could be a killer

A numb mind

A dead imagination

A chronic loneliness

I can think of nothing else

There is no world

There is no imagination

You have taken this away from me

Image by mohamed Hassan from Pixabay

https://pixabay.com/photos/tv-man-watching-room-office-3774381/

Butterball

A 2020 poem

I’m voting for Christmas

A sinner defiant

Shaking a fist at Heaven

Condemning a God I don’t believe in

It’s easier than thinking things through for myself

I’m giving thanks

For a harvest I didn’t reap

I sit in a cosy office

While the backbreaking work is done by foreigners

They’re coming and taking our jobs!

I’m plump and juicy

A morsel delightfully reared

A snack for Satan

All golden and tanned by the fires of Hell

I take no prisoners - I am the prisoner

Image by Karen/Lyn Nobull from Pixabay

https://pixabay.com/photos/steel-wool-spinning-fire-steel-818535/