Standing in front of a now derelict church in which I grew from a boy of innocence to a man of doubt


A monologue for a derelict


You stand there empty of life and love
Countenance blushed in sad embarrassment
Windows dark doors locked devoid of
Any spark your past left in banishment

Once a nexus a village a krak of protection
Against the evils of a botched world’s commercial crass
Where we grew in innocence and introspection
Aged in dignity midst afternoons of stained glass

Lead by a Padre of fierce repute and tender heart
Who’d seen and heard more horror than any should
By kept his love in tact in spite of wanton frays in part
War inflicted driven by nightmares of past spilled blood

We hid under your skirts as life tore at our senses
Safe held fast by the web of your care
Daily mass nun’s habits close harmony that cleanses
The soul the body mystic psalms ethereally shared

We grew to consider its unencessity askance
Too full of brash humours to notice our frailties
Walked away without a careless backward glance
finding nirvana in steel and concrete realities

While you stood rooted in your naive assumption
Of dignity care trust honour and love
Father on the porch watching a prodigal son
Stoic and strong yet with fear for this dove

Flying fearless away from the bastions of truth
Soaring high among hawks hungry for blood
Caring little or none about caution or prud
Ense unctuous in holy technology’s flood

So I stand before you in sadness this day
Evoking the memories of innocent joys
Knowing that both you and I are close to lay
Ing down our loads amidst the clamouring noise

That is this world we both have fought
You to this inglorious end and I to this raze
Space within my heart once filled by art
And light in vespers prayed and songs of praise




Poetry by josephus The PoetBay support member heart!
Read 183 times
Written on 2019-05-09 at 03:36

dott Save as a bookmark (requires login)
dott Write a comment (requires login)
dott Send as email
dott Print text



Jamsbo Rockda The PoetBay support member heart!
There is nothing sadder than a dilapidated house or building that hold so many memories. Nicely done Joe.
2019-05-09


one trick pony The PoetBay support member heart!
Respect, loss, possibilities, and longing for what was, or could have been, come through with the passion of a child-now man, innocent-now wise.
2019-05-09