It Hurts (Poem, 2017)

My girlfriend and I were discussing the book of Revelation recently. We were curious as to what the timeline looked like concerning the context of the book. I can say myself that I've had three separate dreams in my lifetime about the condition of the moon and what it represented to me (Revelation 6:12).  Many people can concur that we have been in the end times for a while now, but are we really? Even the bible references that we will never know of God's second coming (1 Thessalonians 5:2). I wrote this poem with such a title because that's exactly how it feels. It hurts, greatly. Despite, I pray we're still able to remain hopeful while helping others deal with the pain. This piece simply calls it what it is because sometimes, that's all you can do at the moment.

 

 

It Hurts

You go to Vegas

To roll dice

And roll with your homies,

You go to outdo last year’s road trip,

Tripping on memories with glasses

Of libation, blasting DJ Khaled

With laughter in your veins.

 

You go to marry drunk

Or meet a drunk guy named Mary

In a dress who could sing like Celine Dion,

Cher and Shania Twain if you ask

And tip.

You go to Vegas to scream

With the bridal party,

Speaking obscenities acceptable

To a paid limo driver not looking

Forward to cleaning the seats in the morning.

 

You go to mimic Chevy Chase

And the Griswolds, realizing

That family without dysfunction

Creates a dull vacation.

You go to see fast lights,

boxing gloves,

And the quick card dealers,

Dive into buffets

And king size beds

At the Marriott, watching visitors

And citizens out the window

Devour their lotus flowers,

Fall asleep long enough

To lose money and inhibitions.

 

You go to Vegas

For Vegas,

Not free bullets

From a balcony where a man

Spends thousands at the Mandalay Bay,

But doesn’t value life.

This was never in the brochures,

Never in the movies,

But here, in America

Where people are tripping

Over football players kneeling

For injustice.

Where’s the justice in that?

Soon, many won’t have power

To heal

While one man has enough

To tweet 140 characters,

Sway the government,

And demean human beings.

So, for the lack of love,

I take a knee, one more for prayer

Because our nation needs more

Than fidget spinners

And Facebook challenges.

 

You go to Vegas

To lose chips to the house,

Not blood at a music festival.

You go to Vegas

And come back,

But on this table,

One hand attempts

A royal flush—12 rifles,

Stopping 58 hearts.

No ace, no queen.

Somewhere, the King

Is mourning His children,

Especially when one competes

For his father’s position.

 

-Calvin W. Pennywell Jr. (2017)