Sunday, September 15, 2013

Loser Poetry: Poem #1 Coffee Afterwards

Ah, poetry contests. The perfect way to feel like a loser. In honour of my losing the 100th poetry contest I entered, I offer you my series of "Loser Poetry"
Coffee Afterwards

Outside: horns honk, muffled lights change.
The streets seem so empty
despite cars elbowing bumper to bumper through traffic
And people pushing their way along sidewalks
wrapped in the intimacy of winter coats.

Inside: a deep quiet, brought on by years of practiced silence.
Your calm, cold white face gazes down on me
With what I once imagined as unwavering compassion and forgiveness.
My faith,
resembles a set of keys
dropped in the snow,
to be found in spring,
rusted and already replaced.

I search my pockets for spare change.
Will you forgive me for lighting a large candle
when I paid for small?

My knees have not forgotten how to bend
but can’t stand the pressure anymore
Instead, I rest on a worn bench where
my memory of miracles will suffice.

What is prayer without belief but the asking of a favour?
I step outside, without blessing myself.
Coffee on St. Denis awaits.

Montreal, January 2010

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