Poetry

KNOWING FULL WELL

by Walter Boswell
03/09/19
Free to Share
Author requests article critique

  Message Writer
  Hire Writer

Tweet

Knowing Full Well

Thou knowest me --- all too well thou knowest;

                                                so, too, condemn me.

Unlike Christ, I would hunger for the feeding of the ravens;

unlike Him, from time to time, vengefully

                I would desire a plague upon the Romans.

Some where come the patient hand, some time the winning way

                                                … is not nearly enough a kingdom come.

All that which is an abomination … is fine to ask –

begging for the orphan’s meal, pleading for the widow’s mite.

Surreal

Is it reality you seek, or insanity?

                the current course like an early vision of clouds:

                                easy to fall from, hard to rise above,

                                with no cause to stay aloft at all.

Poor fool to think there is something else beyond,

                when there is not even a ‘here’ worth having.

We were torn unassuming and unobserved from the earth.

                                None sees, no one knows –

                                who walks in witness down the road

                                or sleeps with the homeless in the ditch.

“Let us widen the street over him”, cloudy crowds say;

                “Complain not”, such as smartly,

                who reason it well a grave of sorts.

Were There Salvation

If God were to be an avenging angel,

                he would be an earnest one;

if God were to be a generous repayer of good deeds,

                he would be a dilatory one:

                never tarrying, mind you, just biding his time

                                                                and watching –

                the agony of the ghostly saints

                                congealed from an early tragedy,

                resurfacing now at this reflected date,

                a coming back to the trauma of sin …

that they thought they had, but could never escape.

All this seen, thence shall rise the good once more,

                                or fall more the abject in submission –

                heaven envisioning all this, saints and sinners,

likely both having ridden             vainfully on track

               the rails of their own self-pity.

Dr. Walter Boswell

[email protected]