Seven inches, simple dark design
My modern mind disdains the notion
That the measure of devotion
Is the size or splendor of the shrine.

Spilling supplications, meat and wine
My ancestors with deep emotion
Worshiped as a magic potion
Stones that smoothed their steps to the divine.

Sparse to me appears such daily praise.
My idol summons full attention
Into its sleek, sole dimension;
Siren songs drag sleepy eyes to gaze.

Say by mishap my god somehow strays.
Then suddenly I sense the tension
Mounting into apprehension
Like a mouse lost in a monstrous maze.

Still, I scorn to read how men before
In striving for their pain’s cessation
Slaughtered, used in desperation
Infants to appease their gods of war.

Yet my mirror sees what I abhor.
I make, to break this isolation,
Virtual propitiation
And sacrifice the children I adore.

.

.

Bethany Mootsey is a stay-at-home mom and foster mom living in Clearwater, Florida. She is a Covenant College graduate with publications in “Church Educator.”


NOTE: The Society considers this page, where your poetry resides, to be your residence as well, where you may invite family, friends, and others to visit. Feel free to treat this page as your home and remove anyone here who disrespects you. Simply send an email to mbryant@classicalpoets.org. Put “Remove Comment” in the subject line and list which comments you would like removed. The Society does not endorse any views expressed in individual poems or comments and reserves the right to remove any comments to maintain the decorum of this website and the integrity of the Society. Please see our Comments Policy here.

8 Responses

  1. C.B. Anderson

    I liked the idea(s) in your poem, and I also liked the way each pair of stanzas carried the same end rhymes. You should give this form a name.

    Reply
  2. Yael

    I really like the subtlety with which this confession is expressed in a well-rhymed format. I had to read the whole poem twice to really get a mental image of the thoughts and message conveyed. Nice work, and unique.

    Reply
  3. Daniel

    I feel the flow and the form, but I’m not picking up on the literal situation. I’ll try to circle back and give another shot.

    Reply
    • Bethany

      It’s about a parent being distracted on his/her phone and “sacrificing” children to the god of escape. Thanks for reading!

      Reply
  4. David Watt

    Bethany, you have come up with something original in form and theme. Your rhymes are spot on, and I enjoyed the reading.

    Reply
  5. Susan Jarvis Bryant

    Bethany, I’m drawn by the intrigue of your intricate form and admire the skill involved in the rhyme scheme. I also love your message and the contrasts drawn on past and present failings… especially the slaughtered infants of yesteryear with the children sacrificed at the cell-phone altar today. Well done!

    Reply

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published.

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.