Yesterday the devil himself drove me to prayer,thankya :)

Take those little jagged words, your little Bricks broken bones and things that tried to hurt : build them into a Stairway to heaven : jagged pieces of heart -soul , steps we cannot see and yet – silent songs we sing thru’ the skins of our toes ..when we climb that stair way to whatever prayer in the moment (  prayers are poems of many kinds ?) ;

What is it : this Prayer business ?  Hocus -pocus magician waabaa waabaa.. ah’m now I know sir/ma’am .. perhaps where marrow cuts to bone to sinew raw tender drying death-sucking stone- cold bled tones in the jaw where you never thought you could talk like that, yes you,  to an Invisible Person;

Prayer is what the dying man and the mother in her table wrenching out her baby speaks unknown ; prayer is that naked word the soldier breathes at skull field, and what a father tore out of silence finally, as he lights a last candle in the famine –  moments we stand on, lean into, ask from. Things only you know to say when the saying needs to be said…that secret place that cannot shut up anymore no matter how much you intolerate, discriminate, no matter how bitter or sweet you went got yrself, no matter what we said and swore and ripped off each other, no matter that we were worse than the scummiest piece of earth ever created and no matter that a zillion of us were Judas Iscariot re-carnate… ah, even that can be prayed from, after Golgotha everything happened differently :

so ay, we use our moments : re cycle them   : some people paint them, write them : both the evil and the good. we get to choose : choose the stairway thru’ earth to hell, or heaven…



Filed under Words, Writing

3 responses to “Yesterday the devil himself drove me to prayer,thankya :)

  1. Well written! Loved this part “Prayer is what the dying man and the mother in her table wrenching out her baby speaks unknown”.

  2. InnerDialect

    Reblogged this on Innerdialect .

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