A Well-Off Neighbor's Sunday

 

Christianity is a boast beyond realization,
The tag on a churchgoer beyond reaches of love
Healing hate homes abound in, and nations

With this vanity of popish heresy, a mere enigma
Consisting of couples for Christ practicing family values
Of self-fulfillments, self-pities, self-centered enemas

Of/On views. Communication, understanding, sharing
Of news—sheer TV projections of an ideal
Unreachable to habits of egos, pains, or living.

Let me be the voice of frustration at this mirage.
Let me make noise, curse the curtains
Harboring relationships imprisoning ambitions, rage.

Aren’t we all each a pedestrian—uncultured
Saints, pretending virtuousness behind a pious mask
Of a religion, ultimately exhausting ourselves bored?

Lord, wherever art thou? Leaving your church to a market
Of bears bullish with successes, triumphs, feelings
Of having the upper hand. Like fundamentalists

Terrorizing each other by our respective righteous
Takes on situations, your Christianity terrifies
Like a wrath from an Old Testament. A burning bush:

Intent on perpetuating a need, like a failing regime,
Based on a Sunday- or holiday-activated religion.

 

 

 

 

Copyright © 2004 Vicente-Ignacio Soria de Veyra. All rights reserved. Readers are welcome to view, save, file and print out single copies of this webpage for their personal use. No reproduction, display, performance, multiple copy, transmission, or distribution of the work herein, or any excerpt, adaptation, abridgment or translation of same, may be made without written permission from the author. Any person who does any unauthorized act in relation to this work will be liable to criminal prosecution and civil claims for damages.

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