Insomniac poetry. (Yes, I know I have a ways to go. And YES I know all churches aren’t bad and NO I don’t think everyone should stop going to church. This is just my personal experience, it’s my therapy, so excuse the darkness.)
From a prompt “__________ is the thing with ___________” based on Emily Dickenson’s “Hope is the thing with feathers.”
More insomniac poetry by yours truly: Patriarchy Malarkey by Megan Benninger Life was grand With my band of Likeminded sisters. We homemade and mothered And remained under cover Of headship. An umbrella they’d tell us, For our safety and joy, God’s design for your kind, You’re a girl, not a boy. Of course you are…
by Megan Benninger Dear SBC, Christa’s called for 15 years Through shattered heart and angry tears To have a list With your assist To save the little lambs. Though she persists You still dismiss Her simple clear request. So since you won’t, we’ll take the charge. Don’t trust you anyway. We’ll make the asked-for warning…
“We’re the same,”You claim,“No privilege in this game”Humility is your middle name.Yet you holdThat God has different ”roles”For our souls—Yours to lead,Mine to follow.I swallowedYour hollowTheory for a bitTill I saw through your sh!tAnd called you on it.I quitThis charadeyou have madeFrom the words that you bentIn that holy testament.I’ll speak,I’ll lead,I’ll preach,And I’ll breach,All…
Once upon a time my Facebook feed was filled with many Pretty pics of family and witty memes aplenty. But then I shared a point of view that set my friends afire; I hardly could conceive the controversy that transpired. I labored to explain my thoughts and never to offend. Alas, a few could not decipher what…
by Megan Benninger *CW: sexual abuse There is blood on your hands, hands that took what they wanted, Spread her legs, grabbed her breasts, broke her heart. Said you’re sorry, of course. Spent some time behind bars. She forgave you, yet she never heals. What right did you have to play with my kids, with…
A little late night PTSD poetry: Baptist Cult-ure by Megan Benninger My voice, my light, It’s your kryptonite. You love the dark, You love your privacy. Tell them not to gossip, Don’t destroy unity, One-on-one meetings, “Follow Matthew 18.” Your deceit, your game As you manipulated me, Gave you power and fame, But it was…