Responses
eric: hmmm (2/14/04)
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Responses (sorted by date)
eric: hmmm (2/14/04)
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WORSHIP
Rodney J. Hugen
With hand-rubbed thigh and out-thrust hip,
she calls his name with pouting lip,
and tells us just how we should feel,
'cause we know Jesus and he's real.
The backbeat band of blue-jeaned boys,
hit sweet licks with dance step joy,
while backup girls with mournful eyes,
lift up their faces to the skies,
with mouth to mic and swaying slow,
they smolder words in three part glow.
The leader sings of awful crowns
as the bass man slows the whole thing down,
and passion fills the hearts of men
as they dream of things that might have been.
An old man drunk on stolen wine,
staggers past the outdoor sign,
and in the church forsaken night
finds a door that leads to light.
He pukes and covers holey shoes,
with not much left to win or lose,
so ushers usher him away,
while the dancing girl begins to pray.
He loses, as he's quickly led,
the John Deere cap that crowned his head.
He cries a curse, then speaks a name,
that gurgles up through hazy shame,
and falling on his battered face,
he, thirsty, cries for Mad Dog grace.
and high above the drunken threat,
they play the practiced, polished set,
and pictures flash on giant screens
while dancing girls shake tambourines.
The back rows turn and look annoyed,
as the lost one weeps to fill the void,
and with his face turned carpet down,
he trades his thorny John Deere crown.
And all the pain is lifted up,
as he trades away his Mad Dog cup.
Then, as the vomit turns to bread,
he speaks the words so seldom said
and worships at the Usher's feet
while others dance their pop praise beat. |
