Poetry















My Testament



Sir, my Lord, my God, please don’t reject me

I’ve really tried to be like you, my Father,

In the heart, as they say in theology.


You see that I have known you these past years

Without devoting every day to you -

But I was scared of running out of money.


I worked, I was afraid of being homeless.

But please don’t throw me in the fires, or outer darkness

For losing most of life in servile work.


I have a wife, who will miss me and pray for me

I did not give her much of my heart either.

You gave me brains, and I neglected her.


I did not leave my children, I lost them

And it was my fault that I chose that ex-wife

I knew that she was bad, and still held on.


That is my fault. But I pay for the children

And I think of them and wish them well

When the end of the day comes, every night.


Some things I’m really sorry for, they are bad

Perhaps you can’t forgive them, specially,

For years, when young, I wanted my home land


To be like Germany when Hitler ruled it.

I confess that I wanted uniforms

And banners, and a cruel sort of state

And to be part of an invasion army.


When I was growing up we didn’t have a church

And Nazis seemed the next best thing.

I didn’t care about the death camps


And that those people only loved themselves

And their own bloodlines, as they said.

I hope that I am forgiven, too,


For not being able to resist desire

For women when I was a young man.

I will not blame you for making me lonely.


It was my fault that I loved from afar

So many lovely women for their mystery,

Their soft hair, gentle ways, and faces


I was confused and couldn’t see the point

Of being alive without a woman in bed at nights.

But finally, I never thought that killing men in war


Was wrong; and I refused to think that Christ

Was pacifist and I still am indifferent

To other people for the most part now.


If I am wrong, and was wrong in Iraq

Then, still unchanged at heart, I will be damned;

I mean, I am defiant about this:


Also, I’m brazen this way, I think you

And your Son died to give Philosophy

And inner peace not outer cowardice.


But please don’t throw me in the pit.

I went to church, and looked after some people

The ones who brushed against me in my life.


I knelt before you then and do so now.

Have mercy on me, Lord.



Design Jason Powell, 2020.

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