Studio8 - Uniting the Arts

Motions of worship till noon
and pulpit admonitions taken
near enough the heart
to yield not to temptation
as we stroll past shops
closed, anyway, for observance, or rest.

We attach our four legs
to the cinema's centipede queue,
make our second donation of the day,
bow to an usher’s magnificent command,
and enter his alien world--sunless shadows,
a plush sanctuary’s odorous calm,
a hush near silence, yet not silence,
murmurous surf of an ocean faraway.
We mutter curses and imprecations
at silhouetted heads, strained, awaiting
miracle, revelation, epiphany.

We commune with corn and cola,
spilt when music and color burst
before our eyes and creatures larger than life
emerge. Their throats thunderous,
their eyes flashing lightnings,
they abash emperors, belittle kings.

Are they not more powerful than gods?
In this darkness, will not one of them come forth,
offer a peaceful palm, turn on a light?

Purblind in midday sun,
we discover in distances
the spires of empty churches.
Their bells toll an hour, late,
and fall silent. The air trembles....

Jim 10/4/08

a plush sanctuary’s odorous calm

There is something almost worshipful about entering the dark of the picture house during a sunny afternoon. I very much enjoyed this Jim, some wonderfully evocative lines, the above being my favourite. Thank you.