The Awful God

Richard Bryce was a mystery,

He lived on a back street lot,

The house was the old half-timbered sort,

Paint peeled on the old wainscot,

The blinds were drawn through the day and night

And the garden a neighbourhood moan,

Full of the bodies of rusting cars

And creepers, all overgrown.

 

We rarely saw him out in the street

But he’d peep from the side of blinds,

And stories were told in the neighbourhood

That were often more harsh than kind,

There’d been a wife and a daughter once

But they hadn’t been seen in years,

Since the echoing raft of arguments,

Doors slammed, and a flood of tears.

 

Old Grandpa Bryce had lived in the house

Since thirty odd years before,

He’d worked in the woollen fulling mill

‘Til it closed, just after the War,

His son had drowned in the old mill stream,

Was caught in the paddle wheel,

And Grandpa Bryce was left with the child,

To raise, and be brought to heel.

 

For Grandpa Bryce was a steely man

Who lived his life by the book,

More like a Prophet, this Abraham

Believed, whatever it took,

That ‘spare the rod and spoil the child’

Would be how that his Grandson learned,

As he laid the rod across Richard’s back

‘Til the flesh turned red, and burned.

 

There was never a ministering angel there

To offer the boy relief,

Only the hard-edged wooden pew

In the church, on a Sunday eve,

And Abraham led the final prayer

In a voice that would damn and blight,

‘Beware you sinners, the Awful God

Will come unseen in the night!’

 

Richard’s mother had died in pain

In the blood of the afterbirth,

She never returned to her home again

But was placed, six foot in the earth,

He never knew of a mother’s love,

But only a Grandpa’s pain,

And Bryce had ruled the daughter and wife

‘Til they fled one night, in the rain.

 

The house was suddenly silent then

Just two of them, left alone,

Grandpa suddenly old and frail,

He never went out on his own,

And Richard boarded the windows up

So you couldn’t see in from the street,

It looked like an old abandoned place

‘Til the police called round, last week.

 

We all stood out in the street and watched

As Richard came out of the house,

His hands were cuffed and his hair stood up

And he looked quite down in the mouth,

There must have been twenty cops in there,

All milling around the place,

And one threw up in a paper cup

As we strained to look at his face.

 

It all came out in a day or two

Just what they had found in there,

The place was sparse, but a giant cross

Stood gaunt in the putrid air,

The skeleton of old Grandpa Bryce

Had been crucified, up tight,

And nailed to his skull: ‘The Awful God

Will come unseen in the night!’

 

David Lewis Paget

Reviews

[Kwiksie Ifediora]

OH bravo bravo! Wonderful piece indeed!
i was almost going to miss this till i saw it was a poem/story piece.
You did a fantastic job with this one mister, and the creativity all but screams...
Grandpa Bryce was the role-model for the monster that emerged from Richard, it seems.
Thanks so much for sharing, and i'm very glad i got to read this;
and thus i have me a favorite, from the talented poet, Lewis. :)

[Dr. Wood ?]

you are truly the master of rhyme and story...I love it

[John Alexander McFadyen]

Yes the usual fantastically described balad. Well writen and a chilling story. Thanks Tate for sharing!!

[TL Boehm]

WOW! WOW! Its a brutal write. Riveting. Eloquent and sad. Impressive.

[Muse]

Well this was bloody morbid...didn't know you had it in you. Nicely done!

[Barbara Walker]

WICKED!

[Dayran]

Moses called him cruel. Later, an uncle Ebenezer sent his nephew up a staircase that led to no where in the dead of the night, thinking perhaps that, that's the punishment society provides for young men who display an enthusiastic innocence and naivety.

These days the kids are certainly proactive. Better to kill the mugger before he does us in. Its a testament of our growing awareness of the issues and our choices regarding them today. But god it would appear is still silent.

[de_maruf]

awesome story
no need to say it is good as Lewis create always

[ElizabethRaine]

Tate Morgan requested that I read this and I must say, I enjoyed it immensely. I like how a story is told with this poem, the very first I've read of yours (happy to say!). I'm rather weird, but I like the darker stuff, so this is going straight into my favorites. You really have a knack for writing and now I know why Tate is inspired by your work. It truly is brilliant.

I was reading on and listening to the story, but it would be a lie if I didn't say I got rather excited when I read this part
"The house was suddenly silent then
Just two of them, left alone,
Grandpa suddenly old and frail,
He never went out on his own,
And Richard boarded the windows up
So you couldn’t see in from the street,
It looked like an old abandoned place
‘Til the police called round, last week."
I knew right then that something was going to go amiss. I was right, after finishing what had been written but I would have to say that it was better than I had thought. You did not disappoint.

[Seashell]

There's living by the book and there's living by the book...woww !! Great writing here tells us a story of just that.
Magnificent flow
Thanks for share
x

[Tate Morgan]

To you David i say another magnificent write to add to your burgeoning masterpieces.You truly are a man blessed with both talent and vision.