A Sonnet (The bear and bull make stomachs lurch)

The bear and bull make stomachs lurch
when headlines hold the hopes of men.
Some will kowtow, or kneel in church,
anything to put Martha in power again.
For Martha’s scurrying sustains the world,
is the creator of life, civil and modern.
Until upon their beds are curled
half of humanity, work forgotten.
Then what invisible hand makes beat
the hearts which sleep to wake at morn?
Who binds the sky and grows the wheat
and rolls the earth on which we’re borne?
Give praise to Jesus, read what he said
and ask the Father for your daily bread.

An Intolerable Sound

Feel, how softly down the throat
this morsel with its sugar-coat
slithers! It’s like an antidote
to all the things the apostles wrote.

Their words are foul, a ringing sound,
but here’s a cure our team has found
– a world of doctrines, gathered round –
a constant dose til their words are drowned.

OUT with the droning of ancient apostles!
What we hanker for is something novel:
something mystical, Pentecostal,
stories with vigour and moral muscle!

And – ah – a teaching to cure the itch
in our ears and feed the dreams of the rich.
It’s a pleasing plan without a hitch,
a passionate, pragmatic religious pitch.

So come, let’s lie where the sea wave beats
to swash our ears clean of bleats.
We’ll feed on low-fat milk, and sweets,
all sorts of soothing pills and treats.

We’ll share with all who wander there
in easy, light, permissive air
where no one judges, and none forbear
and life could lead us anywhere.

This is freedom – feel its chains!
This is where the individual reigns
where no supposéd truth constrains
our steering hearts and creative brains.

We’ve come so far.

Recall those trapped
in squirming seats as preachers yapped?
Where are they now? More tightly wrapped
in the grasp of God! How very apt.