Playing God

In Competition 2495 you were invited to submit a poem establishing the principles of a new religion. This competition was inspired by Larkin’s ‘Water’:

My liturgy would employ
Images of sousing,
A furious devout drench…

A lot of entries were slightly gloomy satire recommending the twin creeds of selfishness and shopping. Commendations to Barbara Smoker and G.M. Davis, and to Moyra Blyth for her paean to the carrot, but the winning poems are printed below. The prizewinners each receive £30, and the bonus fiver goes to D.A. Prince.

My faithful ones, our principles must be
Both carbon-neutral and pure, GM-free.
No living creature should be harmed (though germs
May be exempted, as any gastric worms).
As sin is relative and incidental
We are, in all, entirely non-judgmental.
No early services — just send a text
To get a blessing. No one need feel vexed
Or guilty for their Sunday morning lie-in:
Our Matins have a mobile network tie-in.
Email your prayers — see website for
location.
Religion’s all about communication.
One mouse-click and you’re counted in — no
need
To join in person (an outdated creed).
Our faith is non-offensive, savvy, clever:
A god with just one name — The Great
Whatever.
D.A. Prince

The new revealed religion of our state
I do unleash in groomed and solemn verse.
A simple code: the text, read in reverse,
Gives Dog as God. In England, Dog is
great —
We know instinctively what is divine,
Hallow all holy hounds. Now let us formalise
All acts of worship that we can devise,
And with our Dogs in sacred union whine,
Lift up your legs! Sniff bottoms when you
greet,
Drive forth the dark satanic cat,
Then lie close to the fireside on the mat,
But offer sacrifice of butcher’s meat.
Let there be walkies, yea, e’en in the rain,
That we on pious paws may join the Pack,
And if Dog will, then some day as a Jack
Russell or Labrador be born again.
Brian