Best Fundamentalist Poems
Why was I a puppet?
For my parents views,
For their animosity,
To my teachers’ dues.
They even exposed hatred,
To the Jews cultural,
Not with understanding,
Of things traditional.
They asked me if I wished to,
Sing secular songs in music,
Along with the class,
‘Cos I would wear a different tunic.
But I just went quiet,
And didn’t really answer,
Because singing was just that best,
And made me into a prancer.
The signposts come along much faster, now.
And I fear most of all not my own death
or even your own sense of loss or grief,
but my betrayal, for I cannot go
upon the road to everlasting life
that you will travel, reaching for my hand
and at the close releasing it as I
release your paper lord--and then I die
without your blest assurance
that I made him mine.
You cannot understand the god I breathe,
the one who breathes in me also-- the one
who holds his peace and thus enables me
in dying, to inflict more pain, for if
I make an honest life and then in death
deceive, I do not pull away your prayers
but neither do I then impart the love
I hold within my chest. For I do not
beneath this tent address your god or your
devotion; and thus become for you
the merest husk to blow away.
How may I speak to you of mystery?
How may I share with you
a cosmos that embraces all--a love unstoppable?
If I could creep with you upon my knees
into a throne room in the stratosphere
that our old fathers fabricated in
their heads, then I would plead that you
perceive a later portrait of
transcendence.
Then will you let me grieve with you
that you must grieve eternal loss?
(while in my heart I know with your
same certainty the opposite is true)
--That I remove the father of
the lord we love, as I suffuse a
deity beneath that canopy of truth.
I might explain forever what I know
of that supreme and drowning ocean,
overwhelming fear--but knowing inwardly,
it is what you may never see.
You own a most capricious source
of immortality. Of after life,. I do not doubt,
but see it through another spirit lens
that you have spurned, as I in turn
have laid your own aside.
There is double dying as the price
for glad reunion, and for one of us
in--creed-able surprise.
~
Morality is morality, there's no ifs
Or buts about it, either you obey
Rules or you throw them aside.
Always for each transgression
Lies a matching retribution.
For every seed that you sow
Is a grain waiting for reaping,
Be it a good one or otherwise.
Exceptions are not options,
Row your boat...or you sink.
Affirmations insistent,
in truth make us resistant,
because love employs no force,
so why then cry ourselves hoarse?
Our heart, not mind, does capture,
thunder of bliss borne rapture.
To perform a true soul scan,
do we need a middleman?