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I THINK CONFUCIUS HEARS OUR ITCHY SHUFFLING: MY HOSPITAL STAY II. SUNDAY PRAYER

2

April 15, 2013 by Rivky Gee

RIDDLED, WICKED WITH PRESSURED

CONVERSATION.

FORCED LAUGHTER FROM MANY. LOVELY EXCHANGES.

SIMPLY TO BE ACKNOWLEDGED. PRAYER TO REFLECT

ON OURSELVES. AND EACH OTHER. TO RELATE. TO BE RELATEABLE.

RELATED.

“LORD, JESUS. HAVE MERCY”, PAULINE SAYS.

“NON DENOMINATIONAL WHERE ALL FAITHS ARE WELCOME”. SHE SAYS.

LORD JESUS. NON DEMONICALLY DENOMINATIONAL, OF COURSE.

FORGIVE US OUR SINS.

GRACES COME TO US FOR FOLLOWING IN “THAT WAY”, PAULINE SAYS.

BUT EVER ACCEPTING OF ALL THINGS -AND WITH LOVE TOO.

A STORY OF GLORY, A CUP OF BAPTISM TO DRINK AND TO THRONE, ROYALLY.

EITHER AT HIS RIGHT. OR HIS LEFT.

JESUS SUMMONS. FOR THE MIDDLE WAY.

I THINK CONFUCIUS HEARS OUR ITCHY SHUFFLING.

OH AND THEIR CLOTHING RUSTLE ALL AROUND ME LIKE SURROUND SOUND, HIGH VOLUME TV SPEAK.

BROWNING, WOOLED UP, PAPERY SWEATERS, THE KIND THAT IS BACK SCRATCHING, UNREACHABLE ITCHY.

AGAINST THE FRICTIONED  BLACK COTTON LEGGINGS. SLAPSTICKITY SLIPPER, SWINGING ON THE EDGE OF THAT FIRST HANG NAIL TOE.

KISSING THE HOT RUBBER SOLE, SWEATY, STENCH OF THE SEVENTH DAY SOCK.

GIVE US OUR DAILY BREAD.

GIVE US OUR DAILY SHOWER.

SITTING BESIDE THE HEAT OF HER RISING BREAST. UP, DOWN…SLOWLY. UP, DOWN. PAUSE. AND AGAIN, RISING.

UNFAMILIAR TOUCH OF HER HEAVY WARM THIGH. HER HAND SMOOTHING OVER THE MATERIAL COVERING HER THICK, PINK BLEMISHED, UNSHAVEN LEGS.

SMOOTHING THE WRINKLE THAT ISN’T THERE.

WE SINK INTO THE DEPTH, TOGETHER, WITHIN THE SCRATCHING GRAY OF THE DIRTY SOFA. THE THREE OF US.

SETTLING DOWN, TAKING DEEP BREATHS IN WITH THE ODOR OF BREATHY ONIONS, URINE AND THE SCENT OF LAVENDER AIR FRESHENER.

AWKWARDLY CLOSING IN ON THE SENSATION OF HER OWN TINGLING NECKLINE.

SINGING PRAISE UNTO THE LORD ON HIGH. “LET’S DISCUSS THE BIBLE”, PAULINE SAYS.

HER SMILING WHITE PEARLY DENTURES HAVE TAKEN OVER HER FACE.

BLINDING THE OVAL PASTY CHIN, AGED AND DRY. FRECKLED AND SPOTTED.

SAGGING, DROOPING,  ROSY ROUGED CHEEKS WHERE THE YOUNG BLUSH HAD BUT LONG AGO, FADED BY TIME.

DELICATELY SHRIVELED AND LAYERED CREASES, ESPECIALLY HIDING THE FOLDS OF HER TIGER LILLY SPIDERY EYES.  NO LONGER WINDOWS.

“PRAY FOR OUR INTENTIONS”. INTERFAITH REPEATED AND INSERTED.

“LORD HEAR OUR PRAYER”. MORE SHUFFLING AND SHIFTING WHILE PAULINE PREPARES WAFERS.

COMMUNION IS RECEIVED. SHE BLESSED ME CATHEDRALLY AND NON DENOMINATED.

BECAUSE HE IS THE GOD OF UNCONDITIONAL LOVE…BUT

WITH ONE MERE CONDITION.

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2 thoughts on “I THINK CONFUCIUS HEARS OUR ITCHY SHUFFLING: MY HOSPITAL STAY II. SUNDAY PRAYER

  1. rolark says:

    Hey, thanks for the follow and wow! You’re a poet, for real 🙂

    • Anonymous says:

      Thank you for your kind words and commenting on my poem. Please share and circulate positive energy, warm vibes and peaceful vibrations. always. much luv and hugz to you! 🙂

      Rivky

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