He never doubted his own innocence
Only those young voices
Inflamed with their own sweet power
In love with priestly order.
They could be bought off
Cheaply
Police and church
Protecting against
The welts of disorder.
at night
as he kneels before his god
he is but a sinner:
doubt and omission
chafe his steepled fingers.
Never doubt a prince of the church.
In cap and gown
Emblazoned with status and wealth
He seeks solace
In the gaze of legal ease.
Others gowned and capped
Regard his regal doubt.
They author into being
A shared innocence: presumptive or otherwise.
at night
as he kneels before his god
he is but a sinner:
doubt and omission
haloes his craggy head.
He let evil flourish in his realm
Gave the benefit of doubt
To those men
Who craved young flesh
And urged their power
Upon the fracturing innocence:
That long murky trail
Shuffling usurpation
Across the chill of childhood graves.
at night
as he kneels before his god
he is but a sinner:
doubt and omission
raining ash upon his hair.
Unto his salvation
The judgement day beckons
All the angels
Arraigned against his stainéd soul:
The slash of crimson
Marked across his face
The horns of lust
Springing from his head.
at night
as he kneels before his god
he is but a sinner:
doubt and omission
strafe his startled dreams.
The throne stands before him
Money and power
God’s great gifts
That he, the athlete of old
Should stretch out his hand
And take the prize
The burly laurel of innocence
Bonded through his greying hair.
at night
as he kneels before his god
he is but a sinner:
doubt and omission
deform his crownéd thorns.
The stain of arrogance
Marks his watchful visage.
The fleeting memories
Flash before the altar.
He was doubted
But now is absolved.
The injustice unhinged
Not proven
The temporal world abjured!
at night
as he kneels before his god
he is but a sinner:
doubt and omission
shackle his heavy hands.
He has always served the church
Unwavering in his attack
Enlarged its wealth and power
Knelt on soft cushions
And swathed his body in righteousness:
Why will god not let his ashen hair
Flow down to the grave in peace?
Why?
at night
as he kneels before his god
he is but a sinner:
the beads of perspiration
hang in the air.
doubt and omission
[those glottal stops]
[sever his piteous prayers].
January 2021
Gar Jones
Only those young voices
Inflamed with their own sweet power
In love with priestly order.
They could be bought off
Cheaply
Police and church
Protecting against
The welts of disorder.
at night
as he kneels before his god
he is but a sinner:
doubt and omission
chafe his steepled fingers.
Never doubt a prince of the church.
In cap and gown
Emblazoned with status and wealth
He seeks solace
In the gaze of legal ease.
Others gowned and capped
Regard his regal doubt.
They author into being
A shared innocence: presumptive or otherwise.
at night
as he kneels before his god
he is but a sinner:
doubt and omission
haloes his craggy head.
He let evil flourish in his realm
Gave the benefit of doubt
To those men
Who craved young flesh
And urged their power
Upon the fracturing innocence:
That long murky trail
Shuffling usurpation
Across the chill of childhood graves.
at night
as he kneels before his god
he is but a sinner:
doubt and omission
raining ash upon his hair.
Unto his salvation
The judgement day beckons
All the angels
Arraigned against his stainéd soul:
The slash of crimson
Marked across his face
The horns of lust
Springing from his head.
at night
as he kneels before his god
he is but a sinner:
doubt and omission
strafe his startled dreams.
The throne stands before him
Money and power
God’s great gifts
That he, the athlete of old
Should stretch out his hand
And take the prize
The burly laurel of innocence
Bonded through his greying hair.
at night
as he kneels before his god
he is but a sinner:
doubt and omission
deform his crownéd thorns.
The stain of arrogance
Marks his watchful visage.
The fleeting memories
Flash before the altar.
He was doubted
But now is absolved.
The injustice unhinged
Not proven
The temporal world abjured!
at night
as he kneels before his god
he is but a sinner:
doubt and omission
shackle his heavy hands.
He has always served the church
Unwavering in his attack
Enlarged its wealth and power
Knelt on soft cushions
And swathed his body in righteousness:
Why will god not let his ashen hair
Flow down to the grave in peace?
Why?
at night
as he kneels before his god
he is but a sinner:
the beads of perspiration
hang in the air.
doubt and omission
[those glottal stops]
[sever his piteous prayers].
January 2021
Gar Jones