Easter’s falsehood,
Christianity cracked,
High-fat sentiments,
Tooth-rot wrapped.
A bitter celebration,
for prayer-soured-souls,
Not yet recovered
From Yuletide songs.
A slow death to be
Celebrated, good grief:
Today, in other places,
ISIS-crucified, retrieved.
Hot cross buns buttered,
Easter eggs laid,
We live with greedy Gods:
Slow-death, the accolade.
Like this:
Like Loading...
Published by Mike Bell Poetry
Mike Bell's expanding collection of poems is his ongoing response to actual moments – conjured memories – and a fearful future.
His ambition is to publish 10,000 poems, and then take a nap.
His writing continues to be reproduced in various formats and journals – he also throws himself out there in occasional readings – open mics and poetry sessions – when his body is willing.
Mike Bell is found working for money as a freelance set designer.
View all posts by Mike Bell Poetry
