come monday…

oh my lord what a sermon
oh…my lord
          what a sermon
oh my lord
                 a sermon
rev jones moaned and groaned
           and moaned and groaned
                                  so loud
that even deacon smith
shouted like he believed in god
            and child let me tell you this
sister bates started waving her hands
like she thought she was separating the red sea itself
then she took to talking in tongues
           her voice just seemed to fill the church
honey we couldn’t even hear aunt liz’s solo
which may be why she got so loud
           lord knows you can’t have pastor notice no
           one but her
then of course there was us…
            sitting in the back of the church
            we were busy counting the lights in the ceiling
and wondering why
the holy ghost didn’t just come and stop all this
            cause we all knew come monday…
            no one would remember a thing…

12 thoughts on “come monday…

  1. slpmartin – Thanks for visiting my blog and for your very kind comment.
    I’m so pleased to have discovered yours, as it is excellent!

    Acadianeire is a sideline for me; I blog most often here:

    This is where you’ll find the bulk of my poetry (and a few other things).

    Please visit Acadianeire’s again and check me out elsewhere if you get the chance.


  2. cause we all knew come monday…
    no one would remember a thing…

    oh wowwww… sadly probably true too much of the time. I love how honest you are in your writing.

  3. This one made me laugh out loud. Beyond the wonderful small details, this is Sunday morning for most folks, even if and when they are unwilling to admit it. Hats off to you.


  4. I liked this a lot, it really summed up Church Services and made me smile 🙂 I particularly liked the line “waving her hands like she thought she was separating the red sea itself”. A great image!

  5. Yes, I have to agree with all of the comments above – this poem is really wonderful! I love the imagery, honesty and flow of it…
    …it reminds me all too well of the years I spent “pretending” to listen to the moaning and groanings at the church I used to attend! Oh, fond memories indeed!

  6. I like the contrast and almost polite puzzlement of the kids in the back…at least, it seems to me like the narrator is one of the kids who fidget in the back rows, because I have found myself in pretty much the same situation!

  7. Ha. I feel a bit repetitive here but great voice in this poem. And also thank you for the visit and the nice words.

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