Over at Mindlovemisery’s Menagerie, this week’s music challenge is to base a write on this song:


Meanwhile, the Midweek Motif at Poets United is asking these questions:

“How do we view the image of our body? Do we see it with the eye of the media / advertisement / anyone apart from our own self or is it I am seeing my own body?”

Considering these two intriguing prompts side-by-side, I arrive… here:

When I hit my bottom, my mama said, boy, God will bring you to your knees

And if you still don’t get it, he’ll put you on your back, so listen to Him please


Well she sent me her own bible, with the book of Job marked, and I

Lord I tried to read it I tried

But if the bible’s the word, the word don’t speak to me

And I put it by the wayside


It just may be I’m gonna go down

Go down in the end


I won’t get down on my prayer bones

Still a simple prayer I’ll send:

God don’t give me the rope to hang myself


Give me half a chance

Let me find something solid under my feet

Don’t make me do the air dance


And my body looks at itself in the mirror

And my body sees itself through His eyes

And it’s a body built of sloth and gluttony

Yet the soul within it cries



All my life, I have been kind

Only one I’ve hurt’s myself

With my excesses and gambling

To the neglect of my health

I admit it all; I don’t want to fall

Oh to fall all the way

I’m sorry

Please swing down, Maker, swoop me up

Have mercy on me I pray







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