A prayer

the infernal devices

a prayer so soft
I mumble each time
There is a method I perform my chants
like sticking to the table,
thumping my wrist against my forehead.
I wish to sneeze while praying
to eject sins,
a horror bowl that rests between my toes,
twirling softly and eating me bite by bite.

My prayers are often lullabies.
Muted voices
you scavenge while dreaming.
I pray
and pray
and pray
to sniff a piece of hope.
I do speak in four voices
that swirls my lock of hair.
Goosebumps now.
I repeat my prayers when I am a shadow of a fallen sky
a bird that refuses to watch me.
nature has its way to corner from the human.

Without a shard of primrose,
A scourge of shaved earth.
And I change places
to chant
to sleep
to pray
till I see a circumference of white powder
there, inside my mind
blooming the entire prayer
in colors of myth and violet rain.

 


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34 thoughts on “A prayer

  1. In a way I think you are addressing not just how you might think but are asking the deeper questions about what is prayer. Is there a belief system that leads us to pray, do we expect a response, if so from what. I like your construction and it reads easily. Well done for putting it this way. 🙂

    Liked by 2 people

  2. “till I see a circumference of white powder
    there, inside my mind
    blooming the entire prayer
    in colors of myth and violet rain.” This for me is the essence of the poem. The soul of prayer, the necessity for its existence.

    Liked by 1 person

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