Screams from Childhood - Walls

 
   
Home
Biography Barbara Rogers
Foreword: A Hero Child
Chapter 1
Table of Contents
Send a Comment
Published by Barabara Press
   

 

mother church, house of stone
written in Germany, 1986

church—house of stone—beautiful to look at
but how cold to my touch

lifeless splendor—petrified beauty
built for exalted adoration and devoted submission
to a superior being I can’t see
whom I don’t know
malleable according to any arbitrary human belief

church—life and truth
replaced by dogmas and empty rules of morality
salvation depending on conditions—on the right belief
on the perfect and only true connection with the Higher Being

church—uncaring intolerance
authorized by a higher power

whatever is projected onto a Higher Being
reveals only what followers need to believe in

church—the powerless “down here”
dependent—upon a Higher Being “up there”
—far away and removed, inaccessible, unknowable—
how powerless is the child against the beliefs of Almighty Parents

church—a vital relationship—cast into stone and beliefs

church—when I touch you I freeze
and life fades from me like, mother, when I try to embrace you

church—house of stone
where I am suffocated by beliefs and hypocrisy
in church—I hear souls
filled by the screams of hurt children’s pain
who yearn to be delivered and find salvation

church—exploits
the accumulated loads of guilt and loneliness in the child
and uses it to create a flourishing business

church—glorious facades—regulated relationships
where appearances replace reality
where questioning and free thinking are unwanted

church—silent place where my feelings are not welcome
where life and truth are replaced by having to believe

I cannot bear my loneliness there anymore
my screams are returned to me from your majestic walls
my loneliness echoes back at me—hits me again and again
until I sink to the ground

I cannot be your devoted believer anymore
trying to gain your mercy and benevolence, mother

I cannot be cast anymore into petrified expectations
of how I should be and what I should believe
or wear the gowns of virtue and hypocrisy to please you

I cannot die in lifeless cold relationships anymore
where there is no room for the truth, mother

I must leave you to come alive

© Barbara Rogers

back to table of contents

Screams from Childhood