Something’s burnt the bell-tower down
The hanging priest’s robes on the ground
Woken the town with the low, loud sound
Of dying
Father McKenzie wakes from sleep
Chases tears from his cheeks
The meek, he thinks, have nothing to fear
From their inheritance
But the sky comes down, the walls are dark
The dogs have suddenly ceased to bark
Their bleeding bodies thrown into a pit
In the children’s park that’s burning
Grabbers grab their things and leave
Priests and all their follower’s beliefs
Piled up on an altar-stone of hatred
“Blame me for your inheritance, take me to the water’s edge
And wash me down”
By now the village is awake, or dead and buried
The ground is shaking
Standing, waiting for resurrection
Even the blind can see isn’t coming
The moon and the rules you used to live by
Thrown into a burning pile of ash
Cries, sighs, children’s eyes
Out there on stalks of blindness
As souls fly, the scream’s outside
The birds return to swoop and dive
The sun’s a little paler now
“Don’t forget the dying”
After the mourners bow their heads
The young ones make love to themselves in bed
And begin to gather lead
From the church rooftop
The cloud’s a stretcher, upside down
Ready to wash the choirs down
Slide their bodies into the mud on the ground
And somehow, somehow cleanse them
Father Patrick wipes his brow
Addressing the tiny congregation now
He stands and vows: “The meek have nothing to fear
From their inheritance”
“Take me to the water’s edge
And wash me down”
Author notes
Death...revelation... judgement... end of the world... Northern Ireland troubles. Just who inherits what, and what's waiting in the cleansing waters? Discuss.
Tried for a sense of tumbling disorientation via slant rhymes, free, and variations in meter and stanza form. Hope you like it.
A contest entry
- dark poems by speakno3vil.
308 points, ended December 9, 2007, 10 entries
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest - Anything Goes by Beating.
450 points, ended December 14, 2007, 60 entries
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
Comments
-
Why is it that priests always are named McKenzie in stories? hehe!
Anyway, I really like this piece. You tell a good story that's very haunting. I really like how good you are with describing the scenary. Good job! -
that was very good. i like how you started it with the preists robs, that was cool. reminds me of stories about assbackwards priests talkin that the end is near. i have no idea what is happening in Ireland.
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