Prayer to the Lord

[Catamite]

We brought to our lips those flecks of fate
As long and as animate as a lover's kiss;
New bought cigarettes - that in death we may partake
We watched their slow ghosts exhumed with the simple bliss
Of unplanned living

And then we dispensed the televisions images to black
We moulded the matress with our shapes, consoling eachother
In mutual prayer; and with hours it were the sure bullet of
An abridged kiss at the door
For time within our limits had overreached.

Awake at three or four with hours unstruck before the
Days living began, I thought of him elsewhere sleeping,
And prayed: Lord, bless me, for I have sinned;
I pray that with your guidance I shall not sin again
Not that sullying of your love, not that deceit to the soul

The sunlight spurned the shadow as
I thought of cinema's and of park's enamoured with green;
I thought of him, and the Lord, praying:
Lord, help me, for I am weak...although I knew
That I would sin and pray again, as would men love and slaughter.

[Haunted]

Found this thread buried and glad to rediscover it. Plenty of great images, in a poem so well thought out. I got the sense of a death row inmate spending his last hours repenting, but maybe it's a metaphor of us accepting punishment for our sins. I'd like to think God somehow knows we are born to sin. Ironically sins make for some compelling poetry, which in itself is a blessing for humanity. So what does that leave us?

[Catamite]

Hey Haunted, I think the sense of a death row inmate is pretty spot on - the same sense of resignation and despair. Nice to get some feeback on this, espcially from a poster like you, so thanks!

[hallaig]

We brought to our lips those flecks of fate
As long and as animate as a lover's kiss;
New bought cigarettes - that in death we may partake
We watched their slow ghosts exhumed with the simple bliss
Of unplanned living

And then we dispensed the televisions images to black
We welted the matress with our shapes, consoling eachother
In mutual prayer; and with hours it were the sure bullet of
An abridged kiss at the door
For time within our limits had overreached.

Awake at three or four with hours unstruck before the
Day's living began, I thought of him elsewhere sleeping,
And prayed: Lord, bless me, for I have sinned;
I pray that with your guidance I shall not sin again
Not that sullying of your love, not that deceit to the soul

The sunlight spurned the unshielded shadow as
I thought of cinema's and of park's enamoured with green;
I thought of him, and the Lord, praying:
Lord, help me, for I am weak...although I knew
That I would sin and pray again, as would men love and slaughter.

Ambitious but sometimes bewildering.

Think you should look at the language-
'animate as a lovers kiss' aye, of course, that's what lovers' kisses are
'welted the matress' - doesn't make any sense to me at all
'spurned the unshielded shadow' - why's the shadow unshielded?
'parks enamoured with green'- well they're grass aren't they?

Your apostrophes are a wee bit eccentric, too. You don't use them when you should then deploy them when you shouldn't.

I'm not knocking you here, I think you need to revise your language and imagery and make sure the end result matches the undeniable ambition. Less is more.

[Willbeback]

We brought to our lips those flecks of fate
As long and as animate as a lover's kiss;
New bought cigarettes - that in death we may partake
We watched their slow ghosts exhumed with the simple bliss
Of unplanned living

And then we dispensed the televisions images to black
We moulded the matress with our shapes, consoling eachother
In mutual prayer; and with hours it were the sure bullet of
An abridged kiss at the door
For time within our limits had overreached.

Awake at three or four with hours unstruck before the
Days living began, I thought of him elsewhere sleeping,
And prayed: Lord, bless me, for I have sinned;
I pray that with your guidance I shall not sin again
Not that sullying of your love, not that deceit to the soul

The sunlight spurned the shadow as
I thought of cinema's and of park's enamoured with green;
I thought of him, and the Lord, praying:
Lord, help me, for I am weak...although I knew
That I would sin and pray again, as would men love and slaughter.

Nice poem mate :smilewinkgrin:

[Jerrybaldy]

Hi Catamite
I very much enjoyed the first two stanzas, the suggestion of subversion and despair and love. You lost me a little as the prayers began... but that, as they say, is probably me.