Mother Mary 
        & 
The Puppet

As I was noticing the spitting image of Mother Mary
in my oatmeal
I thought to myself that it was not as stunning
as the version I saw of her in my piled up dirty clothes
sitting in the corner of the room with the lighting just right.

I thought to myself again, "Mother Mary's pretty cool."

I mean, first she shows up in my dirty laundry
and then she stops by again in my morning oatmeal.
Just what the heck is it is she trying to tell me?

Then I remember I don't believe in Mother Mary
and that she's just some myth cooked up by priests
to repress people and make them feel bad about themselves
for not living up to some impossible standard.

Everyone has dirty laundry
and personal power is manipulative.

Personal power could make me think I saw Mother Mary
in a pile of dirty clothes and a bowl of oatmeal
and then have me wondering what she was trying to tell me.

I don't know what to believe anymore.
Everything is manipulated
and sometimes I feel like a puppet
jerked on chains by my master 
who is a sadistic joker.

Silly puppet me.
Strung out on religions and countries
and personal beliefs
taking credit, inheriting blame.

See I did it again.

Maybe I could just join a cult
(like I'm not in one already)
and trick my mind into believing
that it's something new
that will lead to freedom.

Freedom. Hell.
Hell. Freedom.
Fine line 
some might say.

Perhaps I could clarify 
with something the old wise ones said...

   ...but that would defeat the purpose.


© 2001  by David Bozzi
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