Holy

Posted on August 10, 2016 by mortiflying

Rows of tan coats, buttoned shirts, and dreadlocks
A light scent of cigarette smoke or sweet corn
Open blue books with the holy words printed inside

Deep rich voices soar with pride and hope
Lord, hear us, we’re coming higher
Father, our suffering will soon end

Bodies which are afraid in the street
Stand proud and sway together in the golden music
This is the Gospel Choir of the East Burnham Church

Beautiful bright faces look up to the hung stitching
It is a long-haired man with outstretched arms
Their song seems to pull him closer

Sticking out is the pale skinned girl
With the thin airy voice and the skeptic’s eyes
She only came to listen, feeling different but welcome

She doesn’t believe the holy words
But she understands them
So she take the hands beside her and sings along

Poison and pride

Posted on July 15, 2016 by mortiflying

The following is a report of the dream I had last night:

I am walking in a wooded area with shade and green trees. Maybe oak or maple, I’m not sure, but I am not in Brazil. Next to me is a friend, but I can’t remember who it is. It isn’t my brother or sister nor any of my neighbors.

As we walk, we talk about rainbows and the pride parades. Rainbows are beautiful, I believe I say that out loud, and there appears a rainbow in the sky. I remember pointing at it and laughing. The friend tells me we should go to one of these parades even if we aren’t part of the community because it shows support. I agree completely.

Then, we are no longer in the woods but in a rose garden. I feel a stinging in my leg and look down to see a green garden snake slithering away into the flowers. It doesn’t hurt, but there is blood running from my ankle down into the ground.

Suddenly, I am aware that I am going to die. The friend makes me sit down on a bench and starts to suck the poison out, spitting my blood on the ground.

I awaken to the thought of “that was so kind but so gross”.