Painting by Kay Knight Clarke“Enter his gates with thanksgiving,
and into his courts with praise; be
thankful unto him, and bless his name,
for the Lord is good...” Psalm 100:4, 5a
Thanksgiving has found its third Thursday,
complete with holiday mandates
to mobilize in mammoth cathedrals
in order to be saved from our mortal sins,
from our human nature, put there on our knees
deep in the tall shadow of the pulpit
while priests, preachers, ministers, shaman,
and hirsute rabbis mantled in piety, eyes ablaze
with righteousness, voices booming, squealing,
and squawking in the tired tongues
of languages long dead, pass baskets,
wicker trays, tambourines, and battered hats
until the ecclesiastical coffers are satiated
with tax-free revenue,
praise Jesus,
with blessed income,
praise Allah,
with money from the multitudes,
praise Buddha,
with cents from sinners,
praise Mohammed,
with dollars from dopes,
praise Oral Roberts;
helping to provide worship within
dimly-lit, incense-clogged, gilded caverns,
sanctified, certified, thrice-blessed,
and erected holy
adobe-brick-wooden-steel-golden-glass-
silver, ice, plastic palaces
of the many Lords;
houses of God--as if
only in one of them can we find
or communicate with all-that-is;
but despite the hypocrisy
and the enormity of these
liars in their privileged lairs,
or maybe in the yellowed teeth of them,
some men find just as much of
God in an open sewer, in road kill,
in a fat burger, in rock and roll,
and in industrial waste
as can be found on the painted ceiling
of the sistine chapel; they need
to just be alone high in the mountains,
peering past the yellow bark of a jack pine
at a towering thunderhead
that looks like Frank Zappa,
but actually is God,
and is forever.
Glenn Buttkus
November 2010
Listed as #14 over on d'Verse Poets: Giving Thanks.
Would you like the Author to read this poem to you?
8 comments:
Zo high come you dun’t praise Moses, or Abraham or Isaac or Jacob?? You got Jewish friends too.
AZ
Glenn, As if--indeed. Hey, you old stick, Buddha does not require your penny-worth praise or anyone's praise. Can't you hear the pride in your
words, not ironic soon enough. Buddha from his devotees wants sufferers' acceptance, for you to suffer in full lotus and bear it peacefully. Smile.
Buddha is after all the shit-stick, too. Would you say praise the shit-stick? It's OK, I can't stand prayers and phony evocations.
David
You are such an amazing talent, Glenn!!
How did I ever get so lucky to meet you??
xoxo JF
smiles glenn...i think God is found in many things, and not always in church, i tend to find more in the knots of trees and wind in my hair...and yes even rock n roll music...though i spent my youth hearing i was going to hell just for listening to it...
I didn't realize Thanksgiving was a church holiday. I thought if any holiday was not a church holiday, it was Thanksgiving. Sad.
The wrath of the prophet lies beneath the anger of your lines, incensed at the profanity religion often is though it touts itself as sacred.
Lovely to read you. You gave this celebration a nice twist; yes He is everywhere, regardless of his name.
Happy thanksgiving ~
and yes ~
Ah the great Poet and Creator is also outside the church proper and is often left unscathed out in the wilderness. Nice path through the religious rough.
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