The Ten Commandments
The Ten Commandments
Thou shalt have no other gods before me. Thou shalt not worship idols. Thou shalt not take the name of thy lord in vain. Remember the Sabbath day by keeping it holy. Honor your father and your mother. Thou shalt not murder. Thou shalt not commit adultery. Thou shalt not steal. Thou shalt not give false testimony. Thou shalt not covet.
Visitors! Welcome to our humble church.
This is Brother Sam, be nice to him,
he’s only happy if he’s the center of attention.
And this is one of our Elders, Tom. That’s
his new BMW in the parking lot. I swear, he
loves that thing more than his wife! And oh my
God, there’s Sister Tina, hard at work preparing
lunch! I swear that woman never takes a day off.
Oh dear, here comes the pastor’s son - don’t
make eye contact, his father kicked him out
last weekend for telling him to “fudge” off,
pardon my language. I heard they had a fight
over Pastor Phillip backstabbing his brother
over an old grudge, but I could be mistaken.
Look, it’s his wife! She and the associate pastor
have been rather close lately. His suits have also
been getting nicer. Funny, I’d think his salary
would shrink with how the weekly collections
been dropping. Oh well. Oops, time to take
our seats! The youth minister is preparing to
testify before the congregation that he didn’t
pull a Clinton with our little miss Monica.
Feel free to find me after service - I’ll just be
here, coveting a life away from “Christians.”
More Posts from Laceandpaper and Others
Soulmates
I worry that I do not live up to your past, but you tell me the practice is as much fun as the goal. This is not the awkward introduction, but the elusive intimacy that comes with connection. You guide me as a ship captain who loves his boat enough to go down with it. Feel you, feel me, feel we as if no me could exist without you. Lead me, love me. Touch like lightning electrifies my skin. In this moment freeze. Breathe. Release. You make me weak. I wish to hold on and never be free.
Deja Vu
I’ll make everything up to you, love.
Hands grasping hers, knee against the steering wheel.
The shadow of the steeple blankets them
through the windshield, crossing his heart.
He is Judas, throwing back the silver.
He is not who he was. Neither is she.
And yet they’ve been here before.
To Tokyo, With Love
Long lost lover living out
of sight, out of mind. I find myself
forgetting how it was to lay
eyes upon you, to lay beside
the water, to feel the soft caress
of your whispered words on my
waiting ear. Lover half a world away,
I no longer remember the sharp
glint of your smile, the sensuous
depth of your laughter. All I remember
Is your impossible perfection. Absence
makes the heart grow ill, poisons
memories to be larger than
love. Stay away lover, I fear
you’ll rob me of my love for your
image. I have broken a commandment;
I idolize your memory above you.
Spring
Cut through the pallid skin of the fresh corpse of winter. Bleed beginnings.
The close of winter is a silent night, still darkness giving in to a vibrant day.
Dying frost. Awakening Blooms. Welcome to a new world.
Sweet, the scent of birdsong and blue.
In the movies, this is where the newborn enters the scene.
The dawn light breaks on pale pink, the bright call
of miles to go before I sleep.
I swear it’s too hot for this time of year.
Venus, why bring love in Spring if it dies in winter?
Dying minus the end equals resurrection.
Track 2
I said I never want to see you again
(with anyone but me). The jazz
from the record player challenges
you to leave. Your words break my
bones (but your kisses are a splint).
Believe me, I can live without you
(if I’m already dead). I swear I’ll
go on if you leave (everyone else
behind). Push and sway in time,
give away your heart (it’s mine).
Forgive and forget is so cliché.
I say never give away the past.
Breaking Modus Operandi
Mother, I will not ask if you think
he is good for me. Did you know
that before I met him I was, in fact,
unhappy? Shall I listen to Polaris
to find my way north, find my way home?
The scent of rain wafts so sweet, wafts
so gentle wafts so cold. I will
not even mention how your mate
has devoured you, drowned you in lust.
Are you truly loved? Are you lonely?
Have your prayers been answered?
I have been upset by passing time and
pain and heartbreak and ceaseless rain.
I too have been devoured by false loves.
But now he sings softly in my ear
“I feel that when I’m old I’ll look at you
and know the world was beautiful.”
Mother, whatever you may say,
today the lovely sky is blue, the lovely clouds
are white, and the lovely breeze is cool.
Sex and Exes
Bitch, you wanna see me sweat?
You shoulda seen me on top of him.
When you heard the news did you
think you’d won? I hate to break
it to you, but hon, even without my
touch he still thinks I’m good in bed.
And that’s when he’s thinking with
both heads. At least he was the
only one I shed my clothes for. I’m
sorry, I’m sure you needed the ego
boost when you realized he was too
good for you. Sweetheart,
green is not your color.
Forward, The Only Way to Go
Rusty white with a big blue stripe,
the old pickup, a pick-me-up
in the shape of a flatbed truck.
He drives fast with the music blasting,
windows cranked down because the AC never works,
or maybe just to share his music with the world.
His voice pours out the window to the beat of a drum
as the pounding music rocks and swells
and brings the old radio back to life.
It’s an adrenaline rush, that old white truck,
and the driver inside. Four wheels, one heart,
flying on a song down the old dirt road.
With the blood of a cousin, the heart
of a friend, a protector, a brother, a guardian.
Wings hidden beneath thick skin, or rusty white paint.
The heart of freedom, a crazy heart.
A heart with no direction, a truck with no map.
Windows open, open heart.
Gas Prices Skyrocket
He bluffed, “It’s the cheapest you’ll find a vintage sports car.”
She huffed, “It looks rather new for a vintage sports car.”
Love for the ages: soft, steady, slow, and sweet, or a
flame: fast, beautiful, and deadly, like a vintage sports car.
Pulling off her shirt she felt revealed, reviled, repulsive,
telling herself it’s not trashy if you do it in a vintage sports car.
Cherry red, blood red, red wood. Scattered under moonlight.
On the accident report they called it a vintage sports car.
Heaven forbid honesty! Hide your feelings, your secrets,
undercover. Like in the driveway, a vintage sports car.
Status symbols: a Rolex watch, a million bucks, a
yacht in the bay. Trade your wife for a vintage sports car.
The past thrown away, left to rot and not be remembered.
Left to decompose in a junkyard next to a vintage sports car.
Lost, lonely, loveless? Ditch the club, forget online dating.
One thing that can never leave you: A vintage sports car.
To escape your problems you must run far away.
My suggestion? Zero to sixty in a vintage sports car.
A gold-digging robbery! Get away with his money, his heart,
a license plate reading RAY-RAY on a vintage sports car.
One Speck Spoils the Glass
Awake in a photo. Black and white, head hurts too much for color. Loose black slacks drape over a barely there dress on the floor. Milk on the nightstand in front of a background of wood. My hands rest on my stomach. Is milk on my skin? Man’s milk, perhaps. I want milk. What did I do last night? Rolling over, see what I did. He has a stressed smile, spindly at the ends, emblazoned with a promise. Don’t think I want what he’s offering. A sour taste coats my mouth. Turn over, drink the milk. If only the creamy froth could make my insides in its image. The word “milk” crowns everything. I too would like to be pure white.
