Martha's Confesssion 1963 Poem by Terry Collett

Martha's Confesssion 1963



Martha closed the door
of the confessional,
and knelt down
in the dim darkness,

and peered through
the wire mesh,
behind which
the priest sat.

She could see
the shadowiness of him there.
Yes my child?
he said in a deep voice,

what do you ask of God?
Martha hoped
there wasn't spiders
anywhere hanging;

if there was she'd scream,
especially if
it was hanging by her head.
She searched as best

she could in the dimness.
Yes, my child?
The priest said.
Bless me, Father,

I have sinned,
she muttered,
her eyes peering
through the mesh,

I last came to confessions...
last Monday it was
because Ma said
to tell you everything,

but I forgot about
the forgetting to say
the Hail Marys,
and of course

I did think horrible things
about Sister Agnes
that old bat,
well she does go on so,

and she has this smell,
but no one tells her,
but it kinds of hangs
about the air,

and well I can't stand
strong smells,
so I said to her about it,
and she became

quite offended,
and that other sin
I forgot,
I did take a cigarette

from Da's pack,
but just the one,
and lit it you see,
and I neigh on choked

and swore,
and I known swearing's a sin,
and I know the Lord hears
and doesn't like

the swear words,
so I am here
to add those sins
to the rest

I am about to say
if I can remember them all,
...and Martha told the list
in a monotone voice,

and the priest sat
gazing at the mesh
wondering if
the Maguire girl

was going to be there
much longer and tried
to hold in a rumbling
stomach noise,

and mused,
but at least
she doesn't
talk about boys.

Tuesday, May 24, 2016
Topic(s) of this poem: religious
COMMENTS OF THE POEM
Tom Billsborough 24 May 2016

just the thing to lighten my mood after so many Not Founds including your other most recent entry. Mind you I have a confession or two. Let's say I've just submitted 4 poems on the Not Found problem. Three of these were Not Found too. but the 4th got through! I like the pieces of confession and the image of the priest with his rumbling tum. Great work again, Terry

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