Pub Crawler
I go home to din and wit
as sin to church.
Here, walk with me.
Tell me we all like to lose.
Poems on the topic: church
Poems on the topic “church” on Poets.by.
Pilgrimage
I lie alone, mind on her face.
In the church chancel, the mouth of a whale,
bigger than bad weather.
I keep myself in the open,
wake to piss.
Skeptic
I hear the wind speak:
nothing but epitaph,
brass angels crying.
The church, a poor man’s box
that binds any guest
to the dying light
like some great weight.
I go down to the water
with my echo:
to say is to know.
Dreaming in Church
At sermon, I doze.
I remember a large man of small mien
who told me my convulsions gave
great contentment to the Lord.
I look over my accounts
and find a sea in my purse.
Sighting
Ill with pleasure ill took,
ill at the Salutation Tavern,
I drank till overcome,
and so see a unicorn
of the king’s hunt
hung in church
again.
Mr. P.’s poetry
I walk in fields broad and common,
journey one inch,
stand in church till dark.
Then wine, two bottles; a rose and no wit.
Let my pitiful verses get a laugh.
My folly has friends, I note.
I play the fool.
Grave
I love gravity above
any lazier talk
war is a strange church
it filled all the pews
in time to prove
the last prophet of ice
Distracted
tomorrow is a lie
in many churches
ear to the street
I fall down the stairs of the sea
Inquire within
a rogue as unquiet
as a rose
never a book read
in never a church
the mind I found
in my mind
Quest
I am a madman
at war with my doubts
the door open
I knock three or four times
and talk alone at church
like a letter to a match
In mourning
Church is a dull ache,
having an urge to hit an urn
laced with silver.
War after war
we lay in a bed so soft
I could not sleep.
Poor in spirit
urchin at church—
eyes make a most
eloquent sermon
Describe a feeling — we’ll find a poem
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