Honorable Mention 2006 Utmost Christian Poetry Contest $50
F.G. Capitanio is a free lance writer and an emerging poet, along with attending Bridgewater State College as an English major, and continues seeking to expand his writing skills and opportunities. His work has been chosen to be presented at several school functions and has been published in the 2006 edition of The Bridge literary journal. F.G. Capitanio continues to develop ways for melding together his passion for writing and his strong desire to express his faith in God. He lives on Cape Cod with family and friends, attending church at the Vineyard Christian Fellowship of Hyannis.
Being single is difficult, but being single in a church environment is even more so. I have known many couples to get married and have children much faster and younger, it seems, within the church than in the world I used to be a part of. I was left behind much quicker than I expected, left wondering when it will be my turn. In the midst of those well-meaning cliches that the faithful seem to spew out to make me feel better, I heard someone say that however long it takes, what is given to me will be worth the wait. It's worth the wait because God will be the giver and will be there on the night that all my desire to be with someone will be satisfied. I began to write "Divine Voyeur" sarcastically, cynically noting how odd it is to speak about God being there on my honeymoon, but as I wrote I realized in my heart its truth and how good it really is that I have this hope in me: a Father who provides all things for His children.
But that is what I hear when I am told
She’s coming, and God is in it too.
I hope it’s true, that lust lived out in white
Will then be mine. But on that hallowed night
Let’s not bring up the fact that he’ll be there.
We are fluctuating, emanating heat,
Impassioned sweat and fragrant moist release
Of unloved tension, indulgent fever pitch
And soul egalitarianism.
Odd to think he must be in this moment
Though we shouldn’t be embarrassed, shouldn’t mind.
I mind. To think, he’s kind of like my dad,
Not some sex-crazed and nymph-like deity
More fitting found in paganistic rite.
My father hoists me up in muscled arms.
I wait with bated breath as through a sea
Of stars and ever-spreading blue he moves me,
Away from perverse frictions, and on toward
A different sort of life, a night where she,
Who is faceless yet, lies nude and shadowed
By his pearl-light moon. My desire suits this.
He sets me down beside this flesh-robed soul
Whom he has also placed, and makes us whole.
Copyright ©2006 by F.G. Capitanio