Sputtered from jelly cake lips,
Trickled into down turned corners
below tear swollen eyes.
Staff of life enthralled,
he bit her in his prime state of arousal.
Papal complications rose
Into ejaculations of surprise.
Her pretty face imploded.
His pleasure exploded
into satisfaction.
Fractured honeymoon
suffered unto her,
icy reverberations of his bedside manner.
And the holy toil long to save the faces,
the many trusted earning wages.
“This is the blood of Christ,”
Say the sages.
"This is His body."
Author notes
Sprite here.
This is about the priests (and other trusted figureheads) who abuse children and are then protected by the church (or others.)
A contest entry
- In process of judging. by Viva La Vie Boheme.
700 points, ended June 10, 2008, 16 entries
Silver trophy winner
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
Comments
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i like the jelly cake lips imagery here which i would normally associate with light and smiles, parties, here you twist it into the shadows, that works very well.
i think of an animal in the second section, biting and snarling while dark love turns.
religious tones fluttering through the dark, religion maybe here but the wrong god worshiped.
now in the next section i am thinking marriage, someone just married perhaps and they find out what their husband is really like, showing the true colours.
and an ending back along the religious theme, it can - religion, be so distorted at times, a great piece.
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