The Meek Shall Inherit Nothing

see him there
cross out front
nose held high
walking tall,
head full of dogma
christian man too young
to grow a beard
impervious to harm
arrogant schmoozing mixing
with ladies if only to damn them
for their heretical
self worship

no piety, no
humility
his god out in front
in the heavens beyond scrutiny
in the unknowable distance
in faith
prayer his conduit to god
his jesus an amplifier to direct
his prayer
until man made a god of jesus
thus bringing god closer
to the christian
now man walks about like a messiah
a messiah without goodness
without incorruptibility
seeking a devil that he may devour

watch him cast his eyes at women
deeming them unworthy of his charity
condemning them,
while i
keep my hood raised
a sign to those around me
that i
wish to be left alone,
and nothing else

and that man armed with arrogance
bored with the sneers of witches
points his cross at me
“What’re you hiding from under there,
You look like a skulking criminal,
A miscreant,
A thief seeking a mark

Come, remove your hood so we can better
see what you’re about.”

“i’m tending to my business,
see to your own,” i quietly respond.

“Speak up,”
he commands from a safe distance,
I couldn’t hear you.”

“you heard me well enough,” i reply
unmoved. drinking my drink,
smoking my smoke, making no attempts
to engage
it angers him, it’s clear
i don’t need eyes to feel his intensity
and he works up his courage
god on his side as he steps nearer
but
before he can speak another word
i turn to face him directly in one
motion
feet firmly rooted to
the earth, i meet his eyes
he seems unnerved, searching me
for a weakness
and i take this opportunity to speak first
“you claim to be a christian yet
you arm yourself with the Word
as a sword to cut any who see things
differently.” then i return to repose
with drink and smoke
while
he quotes at me from scripture
without an original thought in his head
proving me right
and i hear those familiar verses
mishandled by an inept merely quoting
from his book of wards and curses
merely quoting, and i feel pity,
actual sickening pity
like a lump in my stomach
pity for this programmed mass of
useless meat
and i listen but all i see
is a madman in the street
ranting crazy condemnations and
babbling gospel
from a self-appointed soapbox
a crowd has gathered, his ego fed

and i have nothing to do
but walk away

feeling nothing

© Emerys Watchel, 2016 All rights reserved.

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2 thoughts on “The Meek Shall Inherit Nothing

  1. The tragedy of all tragedies–it’s truly nauseating. Humbling to me is the fact that if not for the power of love from on high, I would still be causing others to nauseate at the sight of my former arrogance. Thanks for your follow. I will do likewise. It is time to connect rightly. 🙂

    Liked by 1 person

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