Salvation
I am nine years old again.
Suppressing peals of mirth
in the dour church
as the preacher drones on,
my body racked with cackles
stifled by a trembling hand.
Eyes swimming,
I know I am saved.
Saved from sanctimony,
from ponderous shakings of
the head, from all things
fraught with sobriety.
And even now
sometimes I want
to be in a foul or serious
mood and can't.
Little bubbles of silliness
drift up through my turgid
thoughts, and pop with
a stupid giggle
on the surface,
leaving a trace of froth.
Who could possibly bear
this ridiculous amazing world
like a dutiful burden?
It all is much too
arbitrary, profound, and
dangerous to be taken
seriously.
So let's step outside
the rules of this particular
game, and wink, and laugh,
and drop this crushing load,
that by our misbegotten help
moves ever farther from its
destination.
(Which is here.)
4
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3 comments
Feel free to reply to any comment by clicking the "Reply" button.There are indeed moments when the surreality of everyday life breaks through and we realize that we are the butt of the joke. Nothing more ridiculous than being stuck in the presence of a parroting preacher. Then, it is difficult not to laugh, and perhaps it is madness not to want to despite the straitjacket of convention. Good insightful poem, tickled and resonated deeply, I share the smirk.
rcandlish
Level 7
June 5, 2018
1
Thank you.
My favourite lines: "Little bubbles of silliness
drift up through my turgid
thoughts, and pop with
a stupid giggle
on the surface,
leaving a trace of froth."
I immediately envisioned a bathtub ring or the remains of sea foam around my brain.
pixiedust
Level 8
June 4, 2018
2
Thanks.
@tnorman1236 I like writing that pops pictures into my mind 
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