deepundergroundpoetry.com
Force Fed
That memory
was always a special kind of terror
the sharp shock of my own christening
a helpless infant offered to God
surrendered before the clutches
of forces ancient, terrible and cruel
My cries of protest
bore the sting of embarrassment
to doting parents
while I struggled and kicked
then tore a page from the holy book
for which the church insisted
my nervous father must pay
At six months
my first taste of desolation
abandoned to icy grey splashes
plucked from their sacred bowl
forcing me to swallow
the worm of all worms
and to gulp down lies
that took years to cast out and slay
As I grew from boy to man
so too did the worm within
ensuring my journey
ran painful and confused
nurturing delusion
the machine of religion
grinding weary decades
from the drudge of a shackled soul
But tonight this modest bonfire
is my act of closure
and with its sparks
a rush of freedom soars
As my baptism certificate burns
my eyes feast
on the last charred corner
the ache of revenge
soothed by hungry flame
And yes--
a knowing smile grows
at final curl of ash
the worm is dead
as I begin to feel
much nobler, wiser truths
come heralding the saved
was always a special kind of terror
the sharp shock of my own christening
a helpless infant offered to God
surrendered before the clutches
of forces ancient, terrible and cruel
My cries of protest
bore the sting of embarrassment
to doting parents
while I struggled and kicked
then tore a page from the holy book
for which the church insisted
my nervous father must pay
At six months
my first taste of desolation
abandoned to icy grey splashes
plucked from their sacred bowl
forcing me to swallow
the worm of all worms
and to gulp down lies
that took years to cast out and slay
As I grew from boy to man
so too did the worm within
ensuring my journey
ran painful and confused
nurturing delusion
the machine of religion
grinding weary decades
from the drudge of a shackled soul
But tonight this modest bonfire
is my act of closure
and with its sparks
a rush of freedom soars
As my baptism certificate burns
my eyes feast
on the last charred corner
the ache of revenge
soothed by hungry flame
And yes--
a knowing smile grows
at final curl of ash
the worm is dead
as I begin to feel
much nobler, wiser truths
come heralding the saved
Published 24th Jan 2010
| Edited 6th Oct 2014
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Anonymous
24th Jan 2010 10:24pm
Very intelligent poem, more like a string of images which loosely convey a narrative than an entirely coherent story, but none the worse for that, as the central ideas and emotions are clear and, as ever, your language is well-defined and your structure easy and thoroughly readable.
24th Jan 2010 11:25pm
I wonder how many people who turn away from conventional religion bother to have an "unchristening" ceremony like I did. I can't tell you how liberating an experience it is. Thanks for your comments, Jack.
12th Feb 2010 5:20am
Isn't it interesting all the things we force on our children. Interesting point where even as an infant you violently fought. How unconciously profound... and interesting.
12th Feb 2010 9:41am
It took me a long time to realise how burdened I was by Christianity. I have no doubt at all that it hindered my spiritual development at one point. I would recommend the 'unchristening' ceremony to anyone - you don't need that baggage round your neck.
