It was the year 2011. During that time-frame, I was going through a weird phase. I was still finding myself. Searching for religion, finding my true faith. Unfortunately, I still haven’t found one to this very day. Some say I’m Agnostic, while some say I’m an Atheist. To be honest, I’d rather not classify myself anymore.
At this point, I’m tired of trying to prove people wrong of their own faith. They have it because it helps them get through life. It’s a crutch used in time of need. I totally get that. Back in 2011, whether or not I truly believed in a god or God, I used it to help me get throughout life. It paid off.
Now this poem is when I was exploring my poetic side. (As you can tell with the “big” words.) Let’s break it down, shall we?
By: Joshua Phelps
Tell me when I’ll roam amongst my ancestors,
Tell me what’ll become of my ignominious life,
Stand with me, until I’m anesthetized tonight.
I’ll be less to nothing before you wake up in the morning.
Considering that early 2011 was the part I was writing about fake scenarios, this line applied to a made-up character in my mind that had lived a shameful life. They weren’t proud of whom they’ve become, asking others when it was their time to go. Knowing if he died, he wouldn’t matter to them anyway.
The formation of the clouds,
A predicament calling to me in the form of scintillating lights.
A creature whispering, calling me to salvation
A gavel sounding, bringing me to trial.
Am I innocent, will they hold me on guilt defense?
I will be the first to admit I did mix my own thoughts into this fake character for this poem. The character shared my own views at the point of if I were to ever meet my “maker”, will I be a castaway, or will I gain entry to salvation?
Reinventing my past by building on to all that I have left,
Judging my future by will to cease my current misadventures
By a single reservation to God’s hotel.
I appeal to the court, I make a pledge to unveil anything but deception,
They ensured me, I’m safe from peril without taking flight, I begged to differ.
Even though the person is guaranteed they’ll make it through, a sinking feeling tells him he may not. With his past burdens still haunting him, will the great Saviour forgive him?
For all I know, they’re seeing everything in perfection,
I’m envisioning my surroundings as
A plausible flaw.
Not everything is as it seems.
They’re seeing with blind eyes. They think he’s perfect, they think they’re perfect. It’s all flawed. Heaven’s not so perfect after all.
Tell me when they give me a rite of passage that’ll triumph my impending funeral,
I’m still anticipating for the final jurisdiction to take hold, wondering if I’ll ever retrieve the pass to heaven..
Or will they have me reside in hell?
Some say the grand exit to death, is your funeral… The person in the poem knows better than that. It’s your fate when you cross over that triumphs your funeral. With the final notice of his fate still being decided on, the character is left wondering if they’ll ever accept him into their perfect society.
Whew. I thought I wouldn’t be able to remember the meaning behind that submission. I finally did it.
Until next time, bloggers.
When I mean “next time”, I mean in an hour or so because I’m giving you guys an extra “Meanings Behind Poetry” post.