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Tuesday, August 28, 2012

My Sins Follow Me

I have sins darker
than India ink
and still I return
to them.

Shamed by my depravity,
I shudder knowing
they hardly stand out
in this twisted world.

As my transgressions mount
I press on
pretending I am

unseen.

My brain replays
every misstep,
I crucify myself,
yet I cannot stop.

I keep tossing the bodies
under the floorboards,
waiting for the day
when they will
break the foundation
of this warped life
and spew forth,

and I will stand
convicted
in the rubble
of rotting corpses.

Running away won’t help.

My sins follow me
and they are harder to shake
than my shadow.

[Posted for #OpenLinkNight @dversepoets.com, where lost poems find a home.]

33 comments:

  1. oh i can relate to this... sometimes it's a bit like a kid who closes the eyes and thinks no one can see them any more then..running away doesn't help...i have a secret weapon though...smiles

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    1. Thanks Claudia, a secret weapon always helps.

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  2. Without sin, there would be no need for a God then either, would there? The thing is, if we are truly sorry for whatever it is, then we don't repeat them anymore. No, running away never helps, we always take out thoughts with us.
    Very nice write Mosk

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  3. Sins are our way of knowing that we have overshot our truth--great write!

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    1. I like that "overshot our truth". - Thanks.

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  4. Let he who is without sin, write the next poem. It's a world full of tell-tale hearts out there, my friend. But, it's the people who aren't bothered by them who scare me.

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  5. Even things that we did while young, that didn't hurt anything other than our own instilled sense of morality, can come back and haunt us forever. Guilt, the gift that keeps on giving. I totally get this. Good point, good write.

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    1. The gift that keeps on giving - just wonderful.

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  6. Know exactly what you mean. They make a lot of noise down there, for dead bodies, too. Stark and convincing feel to this, Mosk.

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    1. Thanks, Hedge. I was shooting for stark.

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  7. Mosk, I understand your thoughts here. We have all 'sinned' It is your honesty that is your redemption. A lot of people just deny their sins.

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    1. Please, we wear our sins on your sleeves. Thanks.

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  8. oy man....i feel you in this...we can really beat the crap out of ourselves over them too...and keep shoving those bodies under until they burst out....always there...

    school is good....finding the rhythm....kids are accepting me well...long days....ha...

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    1. They are lucky to have you for a teacher.

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  9. Oh yes, exactly! Ginny captured it too, with her comment: "Guilt, the gift that keeps on giving." Couldn't say it any better than you have here, Mosk! :-]

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    1. Thanks, guilt but always sinning nonetheless.

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  10. uff. this is a hard one, Mosk. surely is ain't all THAT bad... :)

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    1. Naw, I'm just exercising a leetle poetic license, but thanks for the smile.

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  11. Yep, you know the saying..."wherever you go, there you are"...there's no escaping...I've tried..

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    1. Yes, thankfully I like my own company.

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  12. Yikes! Ya' hadda remind me, huh! O, Mosk, we all suffer this weldschmerz guilt..this burden, waiting to be spewed from the floorboards. I hear ya' fella...well, said, poet!

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    1. Thank ye, thank ye! Yikes! you say Yikes too!

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  13. Our sins have a higher gravity, drawing us to them, making it difficult for us to escape.

    Nice, honest piece.

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    1. Higher gravity indeed. Thanks.

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  14. This is one we can all relate to. Guilt is a tough thing to shake. These words are too true.

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    1. Thanks Sir Alex. If you can't shake your guilt then dance with it.

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  15. Brilliant imagery, those demons are tricky indeed!

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    1. Thanks, Buddha, for the praise.

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  16. that is the fear...that one day, all we do and all we have done will be laid bare for all to see...

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    1. Oh, I believe we will see it all again - I'm steeling myself now.

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  17. I think we all feel like this sometimes, Mosk. Which I suppose is the real sin - not trusting He means what He says when He speaks of forgiveness.

    As my hubbie simply says "Guilt bad." We are FREE, my friend. You know that. But this is a beautiful, poignant piece.

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