Gray matter batter
Spooned onto a cosmic griddle
Science flipped to golden brown
Sleep rubbed from weary eyes
With boundless questions
Buttery dollops of mathematics
Smothered with the Bible’s syrupy verse
Chewing jaws and lips spouting, truth,
Half-truths and fairytales.
Blue collared philosophers flinging
brilliant exclamations across well worn
cutlery and chipped porcelain cups
holding grinds of steadfast beliefs steeped
in the eternity of would be evangelists
A breakfast of conversion
hungry souls and minds
licking sticky sweet fingers
slipping into fresh nectar.
I remember long conversations over breakfast at my Grandparents house,with my parents and
neighbors, philosophers and evangelists and everything in between. My Grandfather an agnostic and my Grandmother trying to convert him.
Spooned onto a cosmic griddle
Science flipped to golden brown
Sleep rubbed from weary eyes
With boundless questions
Buttery dollops of mathematics
Smothered with the Bible’s syrupy verse
Chewing jaws and lips spouting, truth,
Half-truths and fairytales.
Blue collared philosophers flinging
brilliant exclamations across well worn
cutlery and chipped porcelain cups
holding grinds of steadfast beliefs steeped
in the eternity of would be evangelists
A breakfast of conversion
hungry souls and minds
licking sticky sweet fingers
slipping into fresh nectar.
I remember long conversations over breakfast at my Grandparents house,with my parents and
neighbors, philosophers and evangelists and everything in between. My Grandfather an agnostic and my Grandmother trying to convert him.
4 comments:
I got the picture! My house had no conversation at all to speak of...wonder if I had the chance to repeat that time if I'd choose to have conversations that your family had or stay with nothing.
my father was protestant, my mother catholic. the stories my siblings could tell! my siblings did their rites behind my father's back because he would've gone into an apoplectic attack had he known they were being given catholic rites. nonetheless, my maternal aunt was caught in the middle whisking the children away behind my father's back to have their rites performed. and no Saints were ever allowed in the house. any Saint my mother brought in was quickly discarded by dear old dad. by the time i was born they were both so tired of this religious war that they called a truce and agreed to raise me in both religions... so i grew up being immersed in both protestant and catholic traditions. it made for a very interesting and well rounded background.
BTW, your poetry, intellectually above par as always and "food for thought" as usual.
and i love, love, love your new page! nicely done!
and the only questions left unanswered are those that have no answers....
great imagery carried throughout..
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