The ConfessionalA Poem by jinjahmanThe church pew perspiring with palms not far from bursting hearts spreading their red mercury cream outward. The dark lacey curtain split a sliver so deep in hope, it was just enough to avoid my voice's mouth cracking and hobbling through misdemeanours adjudged minor Oh, all those sins acknowledged by the priest who while uttering my penance ~ from some new darkness ~ showed himself professionally deficit with breathy ineloquence The 18:50 queue, a smoke for all afterwards; 'Himself' gave us a loan of some pipes! Imagine if the wilier brothers knew - there'd be war; Nothing a curtain could deflect Nothing I couldn't retell, Nothing I would blunder through in a well of tears damned for years
© 2011 jinjahman |
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1 Review Added on February 2, 2011 Last Updated on February 2, 2011 Tags: confession, sin, priest AuthorjinjahmanIrelandAboutI've written songs and poems since basic maturity emerged from youth. I'm driven by reminiscence and reflection, youthful endeavours and changing realities of life. I try to explore the lexicon of th.. more..Writing
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