The Awful God

The Awful God

A Poem by David Lewis Paget

Richard Bryce was a mystery,

He lived on a back street lot,

The house was the old half-timbered sort,

Paint peeled on the old wainscot,

The blinds were drawn through the day and night

And the garden a neighbourhood moan,

Full of the bodies of rusting cars

And creepers, all overgrown.

 

We rarely saw him out in the street

But he’d peep from the side of blinds,

And stories were told in the neighbourhood

That were often more harsh than kind,

There’d been a wife and a daughter once

But they hadn’t been seen in years,

Since the echoing raft of arguments,

Doors slammed, and a flood of tears.

 

Old Grandpa Bryce had lived in the house

Since thirty odd years before,

He’d worked in the woollen fulling mill

‘Til it closed, just after the War,

His son had drowned in the old mill stream,

Was caught in the paddle wheel,

And Grandpa Bryce was left with the child,

To raise, and be brought to heel.

 

For Grandpa Bryce was a steely man

Who lived his life by the book,

More like a Prophet, this Abraham

Believed, whatever it took,

That ‘spare the rod and spoil the child’

Would be how that his Grandson learned,

As he laid the rod across Richard’s back

‘Til the flesh turned red, and burned.

 

There was never a ministering angel there

To offer the boy relief,

Only the hard-edged wooden pew

In the church, on a Sunday eve,

And Abraham led the final prayer

In a voice that would damn and blight,

‘Beware you sinners, the Awful God

Will come unseen in the night!’

 

Richard’s mother had died in pain

In the blood of the afterbirth,

She never returned to her home again

But was placed, six foot in the earth,

He never knew of a mother’s love,

But only a Grandpa’s pain,

And Bryce had ruled the daughter and wife

‘Til they fled one night, in the rain.

 

The house was suddenly silent then

Just two of them, left alone,

Grandpa suddenly old and frail,

He never went out on his own,

And Richard boarded the windows up

So you couldn’t see in from the street,

It looked like an old abandoned place

‘Til the police called round, last week.

 

We all stood out in the street and watched

As Richard came out of the house,

His hands were cuffed and his hair stood up

And he looked quite down in the mouth,

There must have been twenty cops in there,

All milling around the place,

And one threw up in a paper cup

As we strained to look at his face.

 

It all came out in a day or two

Just what they had found in there,

The place was sparse, but a giant cross

Stood gaunt in the putrid air,

The skeleton of old Grandpa Bryce

Had been crucified, up tight,

And nailed to his skull: ‘The Awful God

Will come unseen in the night!’

 

David Lewis Paget

© 2012 David Lewis Paget


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Featured Review

OH bravo bravo! Wonderful piece indeed!
i was almost going to miss this till i saw it was a poem/story piece.
You did a fantastic job with this one mister, and the creativity all but screams...
Grandpa Bryce was the role-model for the monster that emerged from Richard, it seems.
Thanks so much for sharing, and i'm very glad i got to read this;
and thus i have me a favorite, from the talented poet, Lewis. :)

Posted 11 Years Ago


1 of 1 people found this review constructive.




Reviews

great story ...i love it

Posted 12 Years Ago


1 of 1 people found this review constructive.

a nicely written poetic story...

Posted 12 Years Ago


The story flows well, crisp, and with distinction.

Posted 12 Years Ago


1 of 1 people found this review constructive.

Almost beyond perception, I must say. I love the tale told in an artistic manner as such.

Posted 12 Years Ago


1 of 1 people found this review constructive.

Wow.. I'm lost for words, speechless.. Brilliantly written peice..

Posted 12 Years Ago


1 of 1 people found this review constructive.

Very reminiscent of classic thrillers. The storyline was incredible.

Posted 12 Years Ago


1 of 1 people found this review constructive.

Another intriguing masterpiece! You have such a marvelous way of telling such tales in rhyme. I love it!

Posted 12 Years Ago


1 of 1 people found this review constructive.

Poignant chilling write . Flowing as usual and always interesting.

Posted 12 Years Ago


1 of 1 people found this review constructive.

Nice story, though somewhat gruesome, and the imagery was amazing, great write:)

Posted 12 Years Ago


1 of 1 people found this review constructive.

This was so full of awesome imagery, this poem kept me sucked in from start to finish!

Posted 12 Years Ago


1 of 1 people found this review constructive.


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1586 Views
41 Reviews
Rating
Shelved in 3 Libraries
Added on September 16, 2012
Last Updated on September 16, 2012
Tags: fulling mill, steely, rod, angel

Author

David Lewis Paget
David Lewis Paget

Moonta, South Australia, Australia



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