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Fred Phelps is Dead in Plain Sight
by Kristina WoodhillHe did not hide his hate
under any bushel basket
of innocent spring daffodils
or heart skip a beat
behind any pretty woman's
skirt of mercy
keeping children safe
within flowered fabric's veil
He did not try to cleanse his hate
heaven's fragrant hyacinth
could not lend
a bouquet large enough
to quell his well aged
stench of wine so dry
it's puddle on his table
left a burning smear of salt
He did not hide his hate-filled voice
so loud and decades long
Sing, Christine! Sing, my children!
I do not wear my mask for you!
Children born and bred
to spread and spread and spread
all
above board,
all
above ground
he did not hide
his claim to hate
his right to hate
his will to hate
his words to hate
03/20/2014
Author's Note: I don't want to ever forget what one man did: to his wife, to his family, to his community, to other families grieving, to the media, to those who found the will and guts to stand between him and grieving families, to the military, to the country. Imagine what he might have done with that energy working from a place of love.
Posted on 03/20/2014
Copyright © 2025 Kristina Woodhill
| Member Comments on this Poem |
| Posted by Jim Benz on 03/20/14 at 06:23 PM From CNN: “In a statement Thursday, the church chided the ‘world-wide media’ for ‘gleefully anticipating [Phelp’s] death ... God forbid, if every little soul at the Westboro Baptist Church were to die at this instant, or to turn from serving the true and living God, it would not change one thing about the judgments of God that await this deeply corrupted nation and world.’”
And yet, we’ll probably let his church and family mourn in peace—unlike all the families who suffered Westboro’s coordinated disruptions while burying their own loved ones. I wonder what kind of reception this man will receive from his “true and living God”? |
| Posted by Quentin S Clingerman on 03/22/14 at 10:25 PM A very sad tale of hate. It makes me sad to think that there are those who appear to be content in their hatred. Tragic really! |
| Posted by Chris Sorrenti on 03/23/14 at 02:53 PM Interesting poem, fascinating story, Kristina. I wasn't aware of this individual until I read your poem. |
| Posted by Linda Fuller on 03/23/14 at 07:15 PM One less poisonous person - this man's death does not diminish me. |
| Posted by Maria Francesca on 03/23/14 at 11:11 PM Some people inspire us to be more than we thought we were; this man diminished so many of us by inspiring hatred in his followers and also in those who disagreed with his message of ignorance. Some rose above all this vitriol, but for the most part, his life goes to show that what we send out into the world comes back to us. |
| Posted by Laura Doom on 03/24/14 at 05:39 PM I've always regarded faith as a personal issue. I think this erstwhile entity regarded himself as God's personal enforcer on Earth, having first created that Dark Lord in his own image...
And thank you for consistently innervating my research obsession. |
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