Get Your Premium Membership

God haunted house

Didn't know how to be in this God haunted house, I Mr imperfect: short sighted and tone deaf I saw things move as by a poltergeist, heard thuds as though a carpenter lived between floors. Speaking; I could not ask and hear. I'm sure she spoke but I wouldn't listen. I don't want to know about him; I want him I can't have placating words, I need love I can feel I know it in my bones but my flesh is all serpent like; Writhing in it's own oil spill of fear and greed needing a saving, cleanup operation I'm sure you want to; but I do not dare. I take a deep breath and look out of the window I see it's raining and almost trip as a I rush outside I hope that the rain itself is the tears of the one my heart seeks soaking; I cry myself; knowing his grief Freezing I know the loneliness of all of His I'm made one of them. I didn't know how to live in this God haunted house, I a son, a lover, the adulterer, the unfinished. I still wrestle with doubt in my darkness Panting; I worship silently, unworthily, Wrecked I feel the cross of the world wearing me I'm sure I can't live in this without the haunter...

Copyright © | Year Posted 2011




Post Comments

Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem.

Please Login to post a comment

A comment has not been posted for this poem. Encourage a poet by being the first to comment.