I go to church and sit at the back while you tell me I’m going to hell
I go to church and sit at the back while you announce the Dates for ‘Men’s Breakfast’
I go to church and sit at the back while you undress my sin, wanting to love me naked
Stripped, beaten, unrighteous, unholy, I sit at the back and go to church, every Sunday.
I go to Church.
I go to Church.
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Jesus sits and Jesus loves and we just keep messing up. TS says it well that there’s nothing to say that seems helpful… but here we are with you. I just passed your name/blog on to a new friend today, https://geosireads.wordpress.com/ who I thought would be inspired by your poetry. He interviewed me, and I thought he should interview you! Which led me here again and scrolling back to this poem. With my love, and best wishes in your writing, Lesley-Anne
I love this one, Kenny… funny, I have quite a few comments I’d like to make about this… but they all feel trite or patronising or insensitive and somehow boil down to the useless “keep going to church. Stop going to church.” Sigh……
Hi there! It seems like ages! Life occurs, doesn’t it! I’m doing very well though, I’ll swing by and visit. Yes this one is very simple, is very aural. I had a thought for how deadly religion can be sometimes – a thought for the ones who so believe, yet find no support from the humans there. I think Jesus sits besides them even though others won’t. Anyway, so excited to hear from you! How everything is well!