*Magnify*
SPONSORED LINKS
Creative fun in
the palm of your hand.
Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1931453-This-is-Holy-Ground
Rated: 13+ · Poetry · Experience · #1931453
A poem about finding something to believe in
Tonight, we celebrate-
With high spirits, with cheap spirits,
We possess nothing, we require nothing more than time and
Something worth remembering tomorrow

We are dancing between soap bubbles and dancing holes through our socks,
Whipping glowsticks 'round like atoms always never smashing,
Spitting fire and swapping jokes and standing on our heads,
All for us

We, the unsung heroes choir of this comic rock opera,
We blitzed and cursed creatives, we broken and damned,
Forsaken and forgiven by everyone but ourselves,
We have been chased through the aisles of Harrods on roller skates
And we have come away and flying,
Leaving the security guards behind, out of breath on their Boris bikes

But when the lights went out, we were just a bunch of kids again,
Altar boys and Vestal Virgins scrambling to make amends with Mary and Moses
For the minds that Ginsberg saw lost, knowing in our hearts that
We will see to it we are found, and
We would welcome you into our church,
Welcome you with open doors and an open mic,
Allow you to confess your worst sins or your best fears or
Anything else that makes you wish you could stop the world just to say,
Just so you could finally feel like someone was listening

And we would welcome you into our church,
If we could only believe, even for a moment, that there existed
A time between carrying each other home at three on Sunday morning
And waking up for breakfast at eleven,
If we had not taken down the icons and snuffed our eternal light and
Turned our church into a black box theater-
I am sorry, but honestly, none of us know the difference anymore

No, I cannot invite you inside of my church,
I wish I could invite you inside of my church,
But when you have no church,
No concentrated architecture of hope and good will,
When your faith has no floor plan and no landlord to make it stop
Playing those hymns so Goshdarn loud,
You start to think that you could maybe find yourself anywhere

Find yourself in the eyes of a beautiful girl you only had to meet this morning,
Find yourself at the bottom of the pool, fully clothed, laughing oxygen up at
The friend who pushed you bombing in after,
Find yourself wondering how on earth you came to be in this time, this house, lying on
A couch under a coat you know you didn’t come here with, amazed by
How few things it feels like you cannot do

In this place, there is no church, just a tired congregation,
A few foolish faithfuls refusing to believe they have already been condemned,
But if we have any prayer, or a single shot left in the bottom of our bottles or
Even the smallest chance of another night like this one,
Then it's enough for me to drink to,
If I may-

For everyone in this room,
To our lovers and the ones who love us,
Before God and Science and everything that makes us human,
When you wake up tomorrow, wherever it is you wake up tomorrow,
I hope you wake up smiling,
And that you still remember all the good we’ve done tonight


Cheers
© Copyright 2013 justanotherpoethero (poethero at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
Writing.Com, its affiliates and syndicates have been granted non-exclusive rights to display this work.
Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1931453-This-is-Holy-Ground