starched ironed theologians
with big untested minds and Darwinian
wise cracks proving evolutionary
random existences was cool
I found Him in charismatic churches
where He tagged along smiling at me
through weary faces and splintered eyes
laughing at me saying: don’t take yourself
so serious, join us
the shattered, towntrodden and brokenhearted
humming in paint chipped community halls
and soup kitchen shelters
my sweet lords take me to the mountain
trying to fervently pray for their
drunkard husbands
delinquent children
next months rent
and nappies
Yea I found my sweet and blue eyed Jesus
as sweaty, unshaven and real as the congregation
that invoked him
Pastors crying pleading and dancing
brothers in crutches and wheel chairs rattling their mechanics
in spiritual frenzy
Maslows fine feelings was peaking in this hot house of hope
leaving that church I prayed
you better be real!
.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem