THis weeks task was as follows
1. Go somewhere new.
2. Experience it.
3. Write about it.
If you like, you can write about an old memory that comes to mind while there (this often happens when somewhere new- if it doesn't, just write about the experience)
And you can link the experience and the memory if you're feeling adventurous.
The poem cannot be more than 40 lines long
The poem shouldn't rhyme. Aim for similar line length, giving a nice shape to the poem.
See full details and udder passenglos HERE
I've been nowhere globally but everywhere locally except the local Protestant Church. I was curious for a goo inside but never made it.
We haven’t a prayer.
I wanted to go to the ‘protestant’ church
And I wondered of the etymology of the word-
Highly uneducated brain being paradoxically,
my deepest sorrow and greatest gift-
I wondered if I wanted to make a ‘protest’
A plea for reformation
By entering where my mother and father joked, or believed,
They would be struck down.
But I didn’t go.
Instead I went to mass-
I feel I should confess that I still go to mass
(I fear it may be a crime)-
And we had a missionary priest
Asking us to open our hearts
And I was thinking that our poor Catholic hearts are broken
that it’s our eyes that we need to open.
He quoted Chekhov
(Well it makes a change from poor fuckin Paddy Kavanagh)
about Uncle Vanya and his dysfunctional family,
The ‘Cool factor’ of atheism, and the alienation of Catholicism.
And I’m praying to God this ordinary man of God would find a mirror
See the ultimate dysfunction of his global family
And thus an answer to his unrealized confusion.
And I told him this on the way out
in the few seconds that I had
For that is all we are afforded
And I felt good for 5 minutes,
Self-righteous and brave and smart,
then I just felt bad again
And all I wonder
As I’m not yet atheist
Is what else for now and at the hour of our death?