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Good Friday Poetry Corner

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    Good Friday Poetry Corner

    The God of Scribes looked down and saw
    The bitter band of seven,
    Who had outraged his holy law
    And lost their hope of Heaven:
    Came Keith Moon wild man of rock
    And obscene Baudelaire,
    And Byron with his letcher limp,
    And Poe with starry stare.

    And Wilde who lived his hell on earth,
    And Burns, the baudy bard,
    And Lenny Bruce from his birth
    Malevolently starred. . . .
    As like a line of livid ghosts
    They started to paradise,
    The galaxy of Heaven's hosts
    Looked down in soft surmise.

    Said God: "You bastards of my love,
    You are my chosen sons;
    Come, I will set you high above
    These merely holy ones.
    Your sins you've paid in gall and grief,
    So to these radiant skies,
    Seducer, drunkard, dopester, thief,
    Immortally arise.

    I am your Father, fond and just,
    And all your folly see;
    Your beastiality and lust
    I also know in me.
    You did the task I gave to you . . .
    Arise and sit beside
    My Son, the best beloved, who
    Was also crucified.

    Robert Service

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