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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

Up the ladder: urge purged
Down the ladder: dancing on air

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Arithmetic Mean: 7.0
Weighted score: 5.537883
Overall Rank: 2612
Posted: March 15, 2005 7:13 AM PST; Last modified: March 16, 2005 6:35 AM PST
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Comments:
[8] edpeterson @ 68.79.58.164 | 15-Mar-05/9:05 AM | Reply
Substitutionary is funny. Dyn-O-MITE!
[n/a] Dovina @ 12.72.10.39 > edpeterson | 15-Mar-05/12:38 PM | Reply
Funny, I wasn’t laughing when I ate the bread and wrote the line.
[7] poodietat @ 68.51.106.137 | 15-Mar-05/10:11 AM | Reply
What's this about? Since the elders are setting "tables," there must be quite a few of them (since the poem mentions 1 paritioner, 1 administrator, and 1 pastor). Is the poem about the otherizing -- everyone but you is an elder/pastor/administrator? Like your other religious-themed poetry, I'm afraid the meaning is lost on me.
[n/a] Dovina @ 12.72.10.39 > poodietat | 15-Mar-05/12:37 PM | Reply
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.
[7] poodietat @ 68.51.106.137 > Dovina | 16-Mar-05/12:13 AM | Reply
By the grace of god, I no longer visit churches _or_ bars. Thanks for the explanation. One of the better things about poemranker: it's interesting to get inside the mind of the poet. Of course, this is one of the worst parts of poemranker, as well: the mind of a poet can be an ugly place. The poem makes much more sense now. Thanks for clarifying.
[n/a] richa @ 81.178.245.63 > Dovina | 16-Mar-05/3:01 AM | Reply
The metaphor is too clumsy. If the setting is a bar make the setting a bar. Gently allude to the nature of a church, the wine, amen, comfort etc. There is no way in the world we can be expected to assume the elders are waiters. How about using a religious word like transubstantiation figuratively.
[n/a] Dovina @ 12.72.33.97 > richa | 16-Mar-05/6:31 AM | Reply
The waiters are more related to ushers, I think, than elders. I used the idea of transubstantiation in “sip the blood” but might try to work the word in too.
[8] edpeterson @ 68.79.58.40 > Dovina | 16-Mar-05/6:13 AM | Reply
what a loaf.
[10] Dan garcia-Black @ 66.218.59.216 | 16-Mar-05/8:10 AM | Reply
I'll never go to another steakhouse bar and feel secular again. JJ's Steakhouse Church is a holey (sic) place
[9] thepinkbunnyofdoom @ 4.224.87.166 | 16-Mar-05/10:58 AM | Reply
What are you using as "substitutionary bread" in a bar? Pretzels?

Other than that(My own silly curious nature), good comparison.
[n/a] Dovina @ 12.72.5.123 > thepinkbunnyofdoom | 17-Mar-05/7:52 AM | Reply
The pretzels or breadsticks substitute for flesh of a dying person. In the church sacrament, bread substitutes for, and identifies the worshiper with, the body of Jesus. In the bar, I was thinking of my own death, but thought the poem would ramble too much if I went into that.
[9] thepinkbunnyofdoom @ 4.224.18.220 > Dovina | 17-Mar-05/3:00 PM | Reply
I love how you avoided the question by giving an open ended answer to a closed question. "I asked what you used as subtitutionary bread", not, what the substitutionary bread ment. lol. I have been a humble patron to both churches, and a bars.

"for perhaps the last supper.

And I, the only parishioner"
Vague, but its there. Your questioning death was the key reason I love this. It fit perfect. Some more images of perhaps, a confessional of some sort(Karoke), stained glass windows(Only think dirty or broken window), and an offering plate(Tip cup maybe), would be easily inserted, and play up the comparison a bit more.

<3 Jason
[8] edpeterson @ 68.79.58.40 > thepinkbunnyofdoom | 17-Mar-05/3:44 PM | Reply
she said pretzels.
[9] thepinkbunnyofdoom @ 4.224.30.126 > edpeterson | 17-Mar-05/5:22 PM | Reply
Actually, she said "pretzels or breadsticks", which unless you count breadsticks and pretzels as the same thing. Which, unless I'm seriously more dim than even I imagined, they are not.

<3 Jason
[n/a] Dovina @ 17.255.240.138 > thepinkbunnyofdoom | 17-Mar-05/5:05 PM | Reply
Yeah, stained/dirty glass, offering plate/tip jar - good suggestions. Then there's the laying on of hands (on thighs, and have you ever seen someone slain in the spirit or passed out on the floor of a bar? I hate to think what the Brits will come up with.
[9] thepinkbunnyofdoom @ 4.224.30.126 > Dovina | 17-Mar-05/5:24 PM | Reply
Heaven help us all...
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