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Poetry Pleases: Knowing

...Enough, enough of this conspired bluff!..,

Sandra Mills, despairing of organised religion, puts in a plea for a return to spirituality.

Give me back my spirituality
I demanded of religion
For you have sucked me dry.

Stretched over the rack of conscience
Flagellated by the whips of guilt
Shackled by the bonds of sin
Never permitted to simply ‘be’
Prevented from finding the truth within.

Innocuous innocents,
we are dogmatically categorised
on the random conveyor belt of birth.
Indoctrination is our inoculation
against catching a religion
of a diseased and different sort.

We are claimed for exclusive clubs
based on man-made tales,
fabricated and formed around fantasy:
- a multi-armed, humanoid elephant,
- a contemplative prince, full of karma
- or a sandal-wearing carpenter.

Numbed to obey and submit
Squandering our fleeting time
on Teflon rituals
of compulsory love and obligatory joy.
Conformed and constrained
Treating pleasure with suspicion.

Swallowed by a voracious vortex of voodoo and vows
Relentlessly searching for proof in testimony
Morally outraged at those who dare to question
Arrogantly sure that we alone are right.

Enough, enough of this conspired bluff!

Are we not unified by a universal energy?
Do we not all strive for the same ecstasy of truth?
Desperate to experience for ourselves
that bursting love which transcends space and time.

This much I know,
despite the religious handicap at my birth -
Those who are able to hover in another dimension
Who undeniably, definitively communicate with the deceased
Live in the afterglow of a meeting of the souls
Anaesthetised by serene proof
when they reluctantly return
to this divided,


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