whatsoever things ye ask for when ye pray by Bogdan Dragos

she came out of her
house after
the heavy rain stopped

and walked up to
the bridge
and leaned forward
over the flat rail
and watched the
turbid river flowing by,
disappearing with
infinite length below her
feet

The rail was
wet and
she wiped it with
a few tissues
and then got her notebook
out

Using a simple pencil
she began drawing
the river

There wasn't much to it,
just a couple of lines
but she gave them a nice
form
And when she was
done with the
drawing
she began writing

Wrote a poem into
the drawn river

Eternal sensation of
falling
I hear an inhuman voice
calling
Feel my awareness
crawling
underneath. Is it angel
for real or just a myth?
I shall jump toward it
I shall jump toward it
I'm ready this
world to quit

She ripped the paper
and crumpled it
and unfolded it again
and crumpled it
again

It was soft now

She laid it on the dry
rail and
reached into her backpack
for the little bag of
weed

She poured the weed
on the soft paper
and rolled it,
put it together

When it was done
she lit it
and puffed a long smoke

held it inside

released it

watched the brown
river below

She didn't need anything
in this world. Had all
she could ever want

"It's simple," she preached
to the water below. "First
you get rid of the
idea of sin. Nothing you can do
can anger or displease God.
Second, you believe that
God gives you anything. Anything
at all. You've but to ask for it.
The right way to
ask is to believe that you
already have it. If you
can hold it in
your mind
you'll be holding it in
your hands.
It's all being done unto you
according to the strength
of your faith.
These days, when I want something
I write it on a piece
of paper
and then roll it
and smoke it.
Today I want to meet with
angels. With my higher self. Face
to face.
And I get exactly what I
ask for."

She dragged the last
smoke

Held it in

And jumped into
the water

As always,
she got exactly what
she asked for
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11 comentarios sobre “whatsoever things ye ask for when ye pray by Bogdan Dragos

  1. Well, I must say I really enjoy your poetry and I’m picky about it. Enjoying following you. Very nice. Even though you are a bit preoccupied with death, I’d say. Since I am, it’s ok. Ha. I kind of like that you wrestle with what keeps us going, the faith it takes to put one foot before the other. I write about that a lot myself yet I write very little poetry. And it IS faith that keeps us doing it–no matter your view of «faith.» Happy Wednesday.

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