OFF THE PEW

My soul kiss its way through haze
In manner of candle flames upon alter,

Surging through the temple doors in haste,
Making vent to what will knotty creeds untie.

The freedom which i duelly sought
In hollow cowls of old time priests,
Eventually offered me to naught,
But sallent nichés and sanctimony

Doomed in the chasm of lengthy litanies,
Lost in between volumes and phrases.

My thigh muscles wither at the assembly...

With ease,my heart's burdened by the flick
Of witty words which dangle like festoon
Within the nooks of its oral lumberooms.

To its silence is falsehood bound,
And its scream is but shallow echoes
Of its own keenest doubts.

Countenance portrayed in various folds,
Misleading like the face of an upset cloud

Gaudy glances from it pierce deep to the bone...

Therefore, if my head ever bow,
Let it be known that i'm not worshiping,

I'm expurgating......

Making ablutions from the sallying stench
Of every risen sullen tongue
Inclined towards me in judgement.

Now, I'm drifting through skewed doors,
Off the ambits of rules and laws.

I will again be joined to liberty
And the vitalizing Spirit thereof.

Mortify the letter of mortality

and cling to the mystique of The Truly Divine.