One upon a time I found myself caught up in a religious cult. Yes, a born again Christian I became. “The Potters House” or “The Open Door”, as it was and is still known as today. According to this cult and the members thereof, I am a “backslider” according to me, I am a survivor. The following poem is my view of Religion, or as I prefer to label Religion, God's bastard.
Above shadows of deaths door bed,
for one minute beset thy weary head; to
drift away amongst blissful slumber,
if there be a God, gladly lift us sunder.
Each breath thus strives for said freedom; be
an elusive promise of serenity that
present yearning upon fingers tip; oh!
sovereign be amongst twilights mist?
For this anguish be not mere mortality ensued,
nor within lullaby, rhymed suitably true.
For it lay’s within sonant’s verbally expressed;
Masters of illusion, imperiously set.
Yet where dost rest blameworthy cast?
Upon the ones with life unsurpassed?
And now it comes that death doth wait; in
terminal labor thee gleefully partakes; whilst
vulnerable we shrill in prayer ; as
thou rape and pillage us? Sympathetically bare!
In conclusion we rest in peaceful tryst; yet
no escaping karma for disciples of feist.
Forgiveness? Ah yes! We pardon thee,
though for yourselves amnesty is free.
About Me
"And if I die before I wake I pray the lord my soul to take"...
"Because I could not stop for Death, He kindly stopped for me.The Carriage held but just ourselves And Immortality"~Emily Dickinson
It was never my intention to keep a blog of activities or in this case non-activities, my feelings or thoughts, for I am not one to share freely. A survival mechanism instilled in childhood.
Even when faced with the most perilous of predicaments, I give the well rehearsed response, "I am fine, thank you".
I realise when people ask "how are you today?" they really mean, "tell me you are good so I can go about my way and not concern myself with your ailing health". God help me if I responded "I feel like shit and just want lay down and die".
I decided to keep this blog as some kind of a written legacy for my family, and in hope that others will gain insight into the heart and mind of one diagnosed as terminally ill. Yes I hear you, I have heard it before, "You are not terminal, you just need a double lung transplant, you will be fine". And you would be right! Yet to date I do not have my new and improved set of lungs, I wait and hope and pray.
My life is in the hands of a complete stranger, who in their time of ultimate grief can see through the despair and sleflessly choose to give me extended life. Till this wonderful opportunity presents there is still a real chance, I will soon die. I know others who have been in this place, this Limbo, their strength and determination is a never ending source of inspiration, yet it comes down to my strength, my will to live, and If I decided enough is enough, then so mote it be.
"For what is it to die but to stand naked in the wind and to melt into the sun?" ~Kahlil Gibran, from The Prophet.
So at the risk of being labelled as "negative", I will be writing my real feelings, laying my naked soul on a slab for the world to oggle.
Some of my writings will be boring, some will be of pain, others of happiness. Much of it will be re visiting times and places that have helped shaped me to be the person I am today. Times and places I have not spoken of to another living soul. I need to do this, so I can move on.
It is the innermost me.
It was never my intention to keep a blog of activities or in this case non-activities, my feelings or thoughts, for I am not one to share freely. A survival mechanism instilled in childhood.
Even when faced with the most perilous of predicaments, I give the well rehearsed response, "I am fine, thank you".
I realise when people ask "how are you today?" they really mean, "tell me you are good so I can go about my way and not concern myself with your ailing health". God help me if I responded "I feel like shit and just want lay down and die".
I decided to keep this blog as some kind of a written legacy for my family, and in hope that others will gain insight into the heart and mind of one diagnosed as terminally ill. Yes I hear you, I have heard it before, "You are not terminal, you just need a double lung transplant, you will be fine". And you would be right! Yet to date I do not have my new and improved set of lungs, I wait and hope and pray.
My life is in the hands of a complete stranger, who in their time of ultimate grief can see through the despair and sleflessly choose to give me extended life. Till this wonderful opportunity presents there is still a real chance, I will soon die. I know others who have been in this place, this Limbo, their strength and determination is a never ending source of inspiration, yet it comes down to my strength, my will to live, and If I decided enough is enough, then so mote it be.
"For what is it to die but to stand naked in the wind and to melt into the sun?" ~Kahlil Gibran, from The Prophet.
So at the risk of being labelled as "negative", I will be writing my real feelings, laying my naked soul on a slab for the world to oggle.
Some of my writings will be boring, some will be of pain, others of happiness. Much of it will be re visiting times and places that have helped shaped me to be the person I am today. Times and places I have not spoken of to another living soul. I need to do this, so I can move on.
It is the innermost me.
Sunday, May 31, 2009
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This is a very beautiful poem.
ReplyDeleteReligion can get pretty ugly. A large segment of buddhism in Japan has become the commercialization of death (and abortion).
Even when the forms become distorted, I think there's meaning still rattling around there beneath them. It's just harder to find.
We need more beautiful poetry. Reading what you write above makes me want to try and elevate my own scratches into something more meaningful. Thank you for that.