God, Grandfather, and Father

God, Grandfather, and Father
A Sestina By Sean Roper
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Watching the paint run up the wall like fresh blood,
I’m Laying on my back staring upside down just to clarify.
Bored watching paint dry and all the sudden my grandfather spoke
I didn’t quite catch it something about the rain is to the sea, as love is to God.
Recycling love for god and hate for the devil or some kind of bullshit; I will discover
soon enough I’m sure. There is no point I don’t care what happens when I die.
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My grandfather told me he wished all other races should die.
I hate that, I just walk away, stubbornness runs in the blood.
I won’t fight him, one day, something will happen and he will discover
he’s wrong on his own. I can’t tell him why or how. We all must clarify
our beliefs day by day changing with or without a God.
My grandfather, he is an ex-priest and spoke
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to god. He lost his Faith but never spoke
Why, and for that I Fear he may die
Without coming to terms with it or God.
Whether he is real or not it is in human blood.
Sitting in a old rusted chair outside he likes to clarify
his thoughts with Alcohol and Cigarettes waiting to discover
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the hummingbirds playing outside looking to discover
their Honeysuckles, and my Grandmother spoke
to my Grandfather. I couldn’t quite clarify
Something about what’s life if you don’t die
My Grandfather makes a smart remark and coughs blood.
I think that’s why my father started to talk to God
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Again. My father he was supposed to be a priest under God
Too. He was forced to read the bible day and night only to discover
that all he knows are words next to words, and blood
on his back from his father’s belt because he had spoke
against the bible in front of him. When you die
why do you need God to clarify
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What you are? My poor father just asked his own father to clarify,
but there were no questions in that house when it came to God.
I dare not ask my grandfather either or I would die
in a lecture, involving something about how he will discover
The secret of life and get rich. He spoke
of many weird things, but that is what happens in our tree of blood,
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It happens in old age; but I hope we learn to discover
More than just a book. My father once spoke
something about Grey being as black is to white and as Life is to Blood.