Replying to a comment on:

JJ’s Church (Free verse) by Dovina

Soft candles flicker through vodka while quiet voices prepare. Pastor Sheala works the pulpit serving comfort and wine. Church Administrator, Rose looks at books and over shoulders. Ushers prepare the elements for perhaps the last supper. And I, the only parishioner break substitutionary bread sip transubstantiated blood read the word and receive a blessing. Amen

Dovina 15-Mar-05/12:37 PM
That’s ok. I don’t expect everyone to relate events the way I do or remember traumas and pleasures so similar to mine that connections pop up spontaneously in the same way they do for me. Maybe the reason I write so many poems, and so many of them are not understood is that my history is more tangled in incongruities than most. It’s comments like yours that show me a need to get beyond the place of feeling a connection to the place where I can relate it someone of different background.

I was sitting at a bar one evening recently, the only customer in the place, while Sheala, the bartender, dealt me the comforting talk a bartender is supposed to. It’s her profession to serve wine and comfort, and she did it with the concern and dedication of a church pastor. The bar seemed like a pulpit in my youthful church, and the waiters setting tables in the adjoining restaurant seemed like the elders, admittedly a stretch. Watching over everything was Rose, the proprietor. There’s a deep connection between bar emotions and church emotions. Check it out sometime when you’re in either place.




Track and Plan your submissions ; Read some Comics ; Get Paid for your Poetry
PoemRanker Copyright © 2001 - 2024 - kaolin fire - All Rights Reserved
All poems Copyright © their respective authors
An internet tradition since June 9, 2001