Phillip Medhurst
A Pilgrimage to Truth
Tag: flesh
Feb 20, 2016
Noel
Incandescent lamp-posts glow
Brightly through the shower of snow.
The tombstones, wet,
Reflect a flash
Of fake resuscitation.
The pale scene vaunts
Beauty unmarred,
Unstained by obscene flesh.
How perfect and pristine! –
Unspoilt by bestial notions
Of God dropped in the hay,
And livestock’s smoky breath
Set to thaw Death.
Feb 4, 2016
On Mary’s Assumption
Our Lady’s body suffered not decay,
Exempt from the determined consequence
Of carnal lust and fell concupiscence,
The penalty which Adam’s kind all pay.
Do I then rave if I speak of a Day
When an archangel’s shout will call me thence,
Embodied soul, to get my recompense
For what I said, did, did not do, or say;
Or speculate that I will then be changed
Into a wholesome, holy entity
In which the atoms have been re-arranged
By my Redeemer, who I then shall see
In this my flesh? I am, perhaps, deranged
While hope defies impossibility.
Phillip Medhurst 