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Cpat Hair

Member Patricius

since 2001-06-05

Posts 11793

0 posted 2001-07-09 04:05 PM

Puppet Master

Lord he could pray!
Rising up from the
Simple wooden bench
With a look on his face
That was a cross between
Having lost his own mother
And hearing that he had
6 months to live,
he would start.

A low soft voice trembling
With the knowledge the
Sin of that hot little church
Rested on his shoulders,
would beseech and beg
For mercy from above,
Then build in strength
As he thanked Heaven for
The blessings it bestowed.

When sermon time came
He again rose to his pulpit
And would look with eyes
As sad as I imagined
God’s to be,
Upon the seated
As he tied,
One,
By,
One,
The strings of
guilt,
Unworthiness,
And fear.
One,
By,
One,
He would tug,
Watching the emotions
Dance to the music of Amens
As they bounced off the tired
Ceiling and out the open
Windows to save the
Unrepentant.

Lord He could Pray……

Lady In White

Member Elite

since 2001-02-12

Posts 2799
USA

1 posted 2001-07-09 04:35 PM

I like this! I spend time reading your work and would offer a couple of comments:

~*~
Lord he could pray!
~*~
OK, we know this is going to have a religious bent.
~*~
Rising up from the
Simple wooden bench
With a look on his face
That was a cross between
Having lost his own mother
And hearing that he had
6 months to live,
he would start.
~*~
I would rephrase:

Rising up from the
Simple wooden bench
Bearing a facial expression
That crossed between
Having lost his own mother
And hearing he had
6 months to live,

adding:

so now
he would start.

~*~
again, a bit of revision from

A low soft voice trembling
With the knowledge the
Sin of that hot little church
Rested on his shoulders,
would beseech and beg
For mercy from above,
Then build in strength
As he thanked Heaven for
The blessings it bestowed.

to:

As low voices trembled
With knowledge that
Sins of this hot little church
Rested on squared shoulders,
he would bow from weights unseen
then rise to beseech and beg
For mercy from above,
building up in strength
As he thanked Heaven for
The blessings it bestowed.

~*~

for the last, I would only edit out the extraneous as I show here:

When sermon time came
He rose to the pulpit
would look with eyes
As sad as one could imagine
God’s to be,
Upon those seated
As he tied,
One
By
One
strings of
guilt,
Unworthiness,
And fear.
One
By
One
He would tug,
Watching emotions
Dance to music of Amens
bouncing off tired Gothic
Ceilings out the open
Windows to save the
yet unrepentant.

But that's just my two cents.

Cpat Hair

Member Patricius

since 2001-06-05

Posts 11793

2 posted 2001-07-09 04:54 PM

Thanks for your thoughts...
perhaps the voice of this piece is a bit on the "country" side as I was trying to capture not only the image but the flavor of sitting in a small southern baptist church..with a hellfire and brimstone preacher... Your changes are something to think about and are much appreciated.

As for the editing of the last part...
it is there as my editorial..and perhaps not needed... yet..the point while perhaps beaten to much in my words..is the way manipulation takes place.... even when well meaning... a question of sorts...does the end justify the means?

Thanks Again... you have given me much to consider.

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