WHICH TESTAMENT

WHICH TESTAMENT

And so, another Sunday arrives, as God

Enables the heathens from Heaven to disbelieve

Or cast doubts on just what sort of force

Creates this. I have many Christian friends,

Along with those in and beyond all religions,

But it is not The Divine Presence I question,

So much as the breath behind the air’s kiss.

What graces us now in the proper absence

Of answers? As we reel each day, and keep feeling

For something secure to hold close. If it is God,

Itself, it won’t speak, or perhaps He/She/It speaks

In other ways beyond language; for language, as we

Understand it, holds danger, as those who do talk,

Wound and boast. They paper that language

With lies, to cover our minds. It’s their gospel.

As we will have to accept all the safeguards

Placed to cleanly ensure we don’t roam.

These shepherds will clip us, like sheep,

Or perhaps we will soon be microchipped

Through our breakfast, in order to make sure

We’re obeying the dictates they’re relaying:

Do not touch anybody, and do not stray

Too far from your home. I fear this new world

Brought to boil, or set on low heat, frying slightly,

While the waiting plate is repatterned

And the menu becomes Biblical. Apparently,

There will be no portents, no signs, despite

The Nostradamic dramas we’re faced with.

There will no fires, no locusts, no Four Horseman

Coaches as we start to pass our next physical.

The NHS will repair despite the martyrdom

Its run close to. There will be Mammon

From the heavens and the hungry shelves

Will soon fill. Miraculous lies, as those who

Think themselves Gods decide for us.

Unbaptized they smear water, as politics hungers

And starts to move in for the kill. We have allowed

Them all they could want. We have been kept at bay.

Did they make this? I merely raise the task,

Ask the question and do not support evil’s bid.

But we know that by keeping us kept, all manner

Of actions have started; forests cleared, protests

Packaged, illnesses stoked, and bills slid.

Sickening Leaders infect. America is now

An intellectually Third World country, deprived

Of true reason, with its false ruling idol,

Mad and ignorant at the top. So, which testament

Are we in as the invisible flood rivers through us,

And its waters rise through hot mornings

As we both sink and float, our breath stops.

And as we continue to hold it, we wait,

For the correct release that will ease us,

For the real Sunday Sermon that every Vicar

Alive tries to preach. As they summon their

Flocks they try to shield them through screens

From the Poachers; those out there who would

Steal us and see us infected again, our hope

Breached. And so, we step into the field

And sniff the air. The clouds gather. If there is

Blood in the rain we won’t smell it, as the aromas

Of hope fuse with doubt. All faith is blind faith.

But there are leaders we see who false promise.

You can’t stare them in the eye from a distance.

Nor can you avoid rainfall if you spend the rest

Of your life under cloud. For the dark always

Comes. The light issues the direct invitation,

And in that of course, rests the lesson.

We cannot accept each thing said. We have to

Question each truth as each word is God

For the moment. We have to construct our

Own sermons, as in the religion of our real

God’s confused. It is as if both of He/She/

Its books have been all too freely adapted.

The priests try to edit what those with

No soul or skill now abuse. Should we have

Johnson the Baptist’s fat head on a plate,

Or Cummings’, who believes himself Christ,

Sent to cull us? In the coming days,

New beginnings.

A germed Genesis without use.

David Erdos, May 24th 2020

For more poems from David Erdos visit The Corona Diaries collection 

David Erdos is an actor, writer, director with over 300 professional credits. He is a published poet, playwright, essayist and illustrator. He has lectured on all disciplines in theatre and film for leading performing arts colleges, schools and universities around the world. His books include EASY VERSES FOR DIFFICULT TIMES, THE SCAR ON THE CLOUD, OIL ON SILVER, NEWS FROM MARS, CHANGING PLACES WITH LIGHT (penniless press) and BYZANTIUM with the photographer Max Reeves. He is a contributing editor for The International Times and maker of documentaries all over the world. David’s work has been acclaimed by many leading figures including Harold Pinter, Heathcote Williams, Alan Moore, Andrew Kotting, Chris Petit and Iain Sinclair in whose recent book THE LAST LONDON, David features. He can be reached at David.erdos@sky.com.

David Erdos

©    David Erdos has asserted his moral rights as author of his work and has full copyright.