"All Things Bright and Beautiful"

Not a million miles
From the Grand Place
A few hundred yards at most
Metres if you must
For we are all European now
I cannot describe the architecture I see
Combined with the tranquility
Never was good at putting things into words.
Simply the beauty
And natural attraction
Not just that of bored sons
Being dragged round
Yet another church
By their holy father.
But that beauty from within
The calm at peace
'Could sit here all day' feel
If these goddam solid wooden chairs
Were not so uncomfortable
As uncomfortable as I am
With my own thoughts.
John Lennon imagining
No heaven or hell.
I tend to agree
But that seed of doubt
Was planted in me so young
Brainwashed by faith
Even when I question it.
As I get older
You shall not draw me back in
I won't ask for forgiveness
For what you call sin.
Day by day my death draws near
You won't panic me with your fear.
I'm generally a nice person at heart
So heaven should let me in
When I depart.
If I am wrong and you were right
The afterlife can still be bright.
I like to think we have
A mythical spirit
Onward to an unchartered place
Where everyone's a winner
Not a holier than thou race.
No St. Peter the bouncer
At the 'pearly gates' door
No more hot air
From a dog collared bore
Unexplored spiritual life after death
Unpoisoned by religion in every breath.
I refuse to follow your mumbo jumbo
Preached by god squad mafioso.
The same 'good' people
Who show no care care when in need
Copping a deaf 'un to a good deed.
But when she lies and t's too late
It the all too kind double standards
That I really do hate.
Which is why I've paid a Euro*
For a single candle
Despite your pastoral care
Being a scandal.
She was a woman strong in belief
Which-if there is a heaven-
Must have been a relief
So I light a candle for your soul
Just in case you've reached
Your afterlife goal.
As a non-believers way
Of making amends from afar
For your selfish parishioners
Who wouldn't give you a lift
To church in their car.

Dulwich Poet 1st July 2013

(I was Brussels, with little money, but on a nice day, wandering round, sitting on benches, reading, basically killing time until my Eurostar in the evening. I like church buildings for their history & beauty, but not for what they preach. I went into the St Michael & St Gundula Catherdral, a stones throw from the famous Grand Place.When there I lit a candle, on the spur of the moment, for a football friend I know, whose mum died recently. In here last days it was a struggle to get anyone from his parish to give her a lift to church, when he was unable to do so. But they were very kind to him after she died, which in my eyes, was too late for her. I didn't expect to include her in this, it's just the way writing goes sometimes. Sat in this beautiful building I sat contemplating whether, or even if, there is any sort of afterlife. The truth is...none of us will know until we are dead ourselves)

[*Euro: The candle cost two euros, but I couldn't bring myself to give the Church that, so met them halfway & put one euro in the tin!]