Do you consider "Jonah-Woman" as being, in any way, an atheist-oriented poem?
Who are these white-capped jesters....and jackals
who have placed me in the belly of a
white death-stinking fish?
Not this time, not Jonah-time fish.
Not walking out safe from Jonah's fish. No.
Not this time.
The jesters and tittering hyenas, with their night-lumen
eyes, who tiptoe soft through the loud-hinged door....
and shut it quietly-quick behind them.
They are breathing to find me.
They safari hunt for me....beating the bush-room.
Mine. I am hiding in the pillow, in the chest of drawers,
in the air.
They can't find me with their needles and needle-quick
pills.
The rancid, disinfected fish is down the hall, around the
corner....on the ceilings.
I can sense death rattles....quick as goodbye from
yesterday. The fish swallows the soft, noisy passage.
The fish is Hill House. The fish is the jackals' den.
The fish, with no fins, rummages the halls, airborne,
hovering on moon-shadowed winds.
A scream, a gurgle, the fish forgets me for the moment.
The jesters still seek, seethe. They have other work now.
Something is wrong.
Something is amiss in Heaven.
They have placed me in a room with no art.
There is someone at the door....snuffling dog noises.
Who are you that you do not answer me?
The dog has gone. I think it has gone....but I do not think
it was a dog.
They have taken everything. Even the name of my Father....
given it to the jackals. This, my scent.
They seethe out of their fish-den, carefully stepping over
it's teeth. Man-shark teeth. Death teeth.
They walk with needles balanced on a tray....rainbow pills
in teens, little cups....watch me to make sure I've swallowed
the rainbow.
Something is my God wrong.
Something should not be happening.
I cannot walk out of this vile fish....like Jonah. I cannot go
past it's teeth. I am afraid....more of a coward.
Even your God cannot help me now.
I fear the teeth will SNAP! shut when I'm half-way through the
opening.
Will anyone care if the jackals laugh, lapping my blood....
while I walk away from a white death-fish?
Walking home.
Walking alone.
Not at all. The poem refers to the story of Jonah from the Bible, it mentions "my Father" capitalized, which means God, and it says "something is my God wrong".
one should never surrender to being the victim,
for any reason or cause or belief.Whether a religious view
or the disbelief of atheists.To allow ones self to surrender
is the greatest sin to the immortal soul.If one believes
a soul is immortal as I do living through many disguises
over many century's there is no reason for fear from any quarter
And home is nothing more then the place where the most
comfort is found.And I say let them lap your blood your
spirit has already moved on to the next adventure.
I get the image of child molesters and the scared, abused child, afraid. Swallowed up in uncertainty, taken away from what was safety before, fed pills and sedated, afraid and wandering why God would allow this to happen. In the end death, a lonely death without God. Strong words. Not atheist to me but rightfully questioning.
Not really,
I think it takes a leap of faith to not walk alone
I sometimes take that leap, but I wonder how long it lasts.. it is a daily thing, in which I am a failure
God loves the sinners, I try not to sin... I think I somehow missed the mark..
the poem is interesting, no doubt.
Do you consider "Jonah-Woman" as being, in any way, an atheist-oriented poem?
