Pain and How Despite Being an Atheist I Still Blame God Anyway

I’ve had severe problems (Spondylolisthesis) with my lower back since the age of twenty-four. Because of it being degenerative doctors dismissed there potentially being something wrong with the upper part too. After nine years a specialist in Bristol finally decided to get it x-rayed.

When given the results he checked there hadn’t been a mistake; the arthritis shown would’ve been considered a bad case in someone aged sixty-five (in case it escaped, I was thirty-three at the time).

Severity is often linked to weather. When it comes to dexterity of hands light things cause the most problems; envelopes can prove impossible to open, things just slip from grip.

There’s been lots of bad days recently. One morning an almost full jar of black cherry jam ended up hitting a hard kitchen floor in a house with three cats.

Later it started to rain, easing some of the pressure; looking out the window, I cursed the grey overcast sky. Then I wrote the following (while an atheist, I’m also from South London. So, yeah, if it turns out my atheism is misplaced, and despite all the aches and pains, I’m definitely having a pop):

God has had it in for me
Last few days
Pain levels rocketing
Keep on dropping things
So I look out the widow high
Into that grim grey sky
And curse the Son of a
For hiding Up There
Not having the front
To come down here
Answer for what He calls fair
Face to face
Fist to fist
I’ll wipe the floor with Him
When ascending those famous stairs
Coward can run
But can’t hide forever in eternity
Regardless the size
Of Heaven’s territory

He’ll lock those Pearly Gates
Barricade Holy doors
With celestial tables and chairs
Even angelic wardrobes
Shout while hiding behind
His bouncer Saint Peter
That I should be on the
Highway to Hell
Not beating the path
Of Nirvana
Oh, don’t worry, Pal
I’ll soon be gone
Couldn’t pay me enough to stay
In a place done up all white n’ cloudy
But not until settling old scores
So turn around
Trousers down
This red-hot poker’s all Yours

More Poetry:

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Thanks for reading 🙂

N. P. Ryan

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