Carnal Christian

If I am so called a Carnal Christian

For writing with my whole mind’s breadth of thought;—

For taking my whole blessed art to heart…

So I said “Shit”, ’twas about genocide.

Where, in my heart I had it fantasized.

Injustices done to me were so harsh

Which I had delved out equally it’s true—

If you had an imagination, prove

That you shouldn’t use it all for God too?

 

There are wars in my thoughts, battles for good

Battles with wicked themes. Please, please, spare me

To say that I not have to hold in these.

For I have seen beloveds die, it’s true.

I have seen pools of blood from friends, so too.

I’ve been horribly, horribly abused

By classmates, by peers, by the world too.

 

One thing I had my whole life, noble thoughts.

To put them onto paper, shall I not?

To appease my Christian audiences

Should I simply stop and say, “Nay, nay, nay!”

Or, put to verse the struggles of the day?

Salvation is simple; just to believe.

And each poem where evil loses, relieves.

 

Or, just to see that the thing is so bad

So that what is bouncing around in mind

Can be put to beauty or ugly fad.

For the metaphor captures it for truth

That it shows a way of life’s good or gloom.

For my mind, it has only so much room.