An easy typing mistake to make,
but in the context of these poems
one pertinent to belief and doubt.
Can we damage, have we damaged,
the god we wanted to believe in?
Saying the wrong thing, questioning,
ignoring, or just getting it wrong:
ambition and money, big buildings,
bad songs, an excuse for wars and
imposing our way of life on others.
Perhaps we need more words
for sorrow and despair, perhaps
we should learn how to pray again,
how to live and how to behave,
tie ourselves up in knots of thought
and accept we are just illusion.
Rupert Loydell’s books are published by Shearsman Books and Knives, Forks and Spoon Press.
Reblogged this on reubenwoolley.
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