The Turin Tea Towel

When you claim my face as your prophet, I must warn you
I am not. I am a kitchen maid’s tea towel.
Left at an open window. Stolen by a feral dog,
buried in dirt, where time pressed its mark.

When you look at clouds, your mind sees patterns,
Remember that. One day, I was picked up from the dirt.
Jesus Christ,
someone muttered, and here we are,
that prophet has held my threads tight ever since.

For all your imagining and searching, the dates don’t lie,
I am not two thousand years old. I am barely aged.
Left on a window, blowing in the wind, a dog sniffs me,
I catch its attention and then I’m lost, redefined.

Once I have been mauled and clawed, you arrive,
to confirm your belief, to conjure a vision across my fibres.
Was Jesus not already made in your image?
He can’t return twice, there is no resurrection.

Only a stained tea towel and a history of lies.

About This Poem

Review Request Direction: What did you think of my title?

Review Request Intensity: I want the raw truth, feel free to knock me on my back

Editing Stage: Editing - rough draft

About the Author

Country/Region: United Kingdom

Favorite Poets: Margaret Atwood is one of my favourite writers. Carol Ann Duffy, Philip Larkin, Ted Hughes, Wendy Cope and more.

This user supports Neopoet so it can be free to all

Comments

Unca Fez

2 months ago

And So, Another "Miracle"...

And so, another "miracle" is given life by those seeking justification for what they believe, even when the evidence denies it. Wonderful poem!

Ruby Lord

2 months ago

Hi Steve, thank you for

Hi Steve, thank you for reading and commenting. It's that old thing isn't it, we believe and when the evidence denies it, we will cling to those beliefs, making excuses to fit the facts? Hope you're well, and taking care of yourself and Cat. Ruby xx

Candlewitch

2 months ago

Dearest of Rubies...

Oh MY doG...

while reading this little slice of heaven, my jaw dropped down to my ankles! It started with the very first line and just got better and better! Since the age of fourteen I suspected that doG was an invention of someone who needed an ointment to rub on their mind to make death not so scary! Thank you for this piece. I think it is the best Easter story I have ever read! I think you should enter it for poem of the week!

most fondly, Cat

Candlewitch

2 months ago

p.s.

nice alliteration with the title. I just noticed! Your poem came highly recommended by Steven!

Ruby Lord

2 months ago

Thank you Cat. This morning

Thank you Cat. This morning the husband said, this is going to be the news all day, talking about the death of the Pope. I said, I know, I published a poem yesterday about the Turin Tea Towel. So I changed the original name. It seems irony follows me? Ruby xx

Candlewitch

2 months ago

Lol,

I guess it does!

fondly, Cat ever eddy

Ruby Lord

2 months ago

Ha ha Cat, thank you for your

Ha ha Cat, thank you for your really great comments. I'm glad I made your jaw drop. I know exactly where you're coming from. For years I believed in it too. And now I don't but it's the idea of the grip that a faith thrust on us at such a young age has memory. Like when I eat meat on Good Friday, I think about what I was told I couldn't do. And speaking JC's name out of context? At one time I believed I was doomed for breaking "rules" I see now the rules were designed to break me. Take care and thank you again for your comments. Ruby xx