God’s Character

A man who thought he was right  
…his name was Fred Wright  
also thought he could write  
 
So tried he did  
A book was born  
called “Behold Your God”  
 
He was an offshoot follower  
of an offshoot  
offshoot remnant  
 
Quoting Ellen White  
he penned thoughts  
through the night  
 
he thought he could see  
thought he was right  
 
But he looked for God in pages  
of books quoting books  
instead of the unwritten words  
wrapped up in babies  
 
so he missed the clues  
gave me the blues  
and now I have to write  
some reviews  
 
Take a fresh look  
through the lens  
 
of the Body  
described in the book  
 
Just stay tuned!

It’s 4 in the morning
But I just had to tell my fans
About my latest sex dream

I was riding in a Winnebago
Through the desert
All manner of animals were fucking in the desert bushes
Kangaroos and alligators and lemurs and sloths
Sloth fucking is especially cool to watch

Jeff Goldblum was driving and he said that this was a good place to stop
5 men in robes pulled me outside against my will

They tore off my favorite shirt, which I had custom made
The shirt featured words from my poetry
So in essence, these people stripped me of my art
(Ha! Joke is on you, dream villains, I’m writing a new poem right now)

They held me down and took a cactus and lodged it between my butt cheeks
Then they all circled my ass and talked to the cactus like It was a baby
“Aaawww, dat a sweet biddy gump de gump”
Then smacked my cheeks, took a piss on my, and left me alone in the desert

I stumbled around alone until I came to a tree
It had the face of my mother on it
I backed up into it and she removed the cactus with her teeth

Then she called out
“Jermaine, this is what you were born to do”
And when I woke up, just now
I knew my poems were more than just the same old silly ass shit
You sometimes see on poetry websites
Naw, my shit reads like a prayer

If I’m God’s blogger
Recognize when I talk about nutting on things
I mean it in the most spiritual way
A poet can nut on things

God was tired  of being celibate.
Oh, please, He had never set such rules.  
So there were only men at His Last Supper.
Ya, but ladies there were behind the Scene.
Then the persistent rumors down there
That He was married or had a hot thing
With a prostitute. Bunch of hogwash.
Maybe.  He wasn't the kind to ''kiss and tell''.
Indeed, how many men  out there are  
Totally celibate? Even one or two of apostles
He suspected of ''playing for the other team'',  
The term ''queer'' not being considered
Acceptable.
Methinks totally celibate is  not normal.
But then I am ashamed of some who
Occupied the papal throne,
Especially John XII, A rival to Elagabalus,
A criminal and an incestuous person,
His Lateran Palace a brothel.
God mused and mused,
Pain and Gethsemane in mind
Never knowing when your last
Moment is going to be.  Carpe Diem.
So one Friday night He used His Gold Pass
Went to Purgatory and walked into
The Golden Mile, superb jazz club
Of Pandemonium Blues.
Great jazz.  He saw a couple of bishops
Frolicking about, losing credits
At a gaming table, thus a longer time
To be spent in this In-Between abode.
Not caring, used as they were to live on credit
And buying whores.
He then saw her in the corner,  Lucy Fair,
In all her sublime beauty. Fiery red hair,
Gorgeous Victorian Age type corset
(As one may see  these days on Pinterest).
Cute little tight  black skirt and fishnet stockings.
God was pleased, had to bend a bit  in order
Not to show toooooo much happiness
And certain things to hide.
The Lady was pleasantly pleased to see Him,
Offered Him a drink - a  bloody Mary of course -
Which He declined, preferring a Godfather,
A 50-50 split of Amaretto and Scotch.
Only one, for her beauty was mesmerizing enough.
They chatted a bit, then she lured Him to the
Grand suite, where He was willingly led.
 Once is once, twice becomes a habit.
It is with a smile on  His face that the next morning
That  He left  the sweet's suite and would have
No problem to confession on Sunday to go.

So God was terribly busy
With his new creations
When his mental Galactic
Phone rang.
A hot call from His hated
and gorgeous nemesis
Dame Lucy Fair.
Difficult, dark heated
Exchanges there,
Never a clear winner.
His creations not even complete
(One even missing a rib, it seems)
So hotly distracted
He pressed on the wrong button,
Eden it was supposed to be
Aden instead it was, you see.
Not the Promised Paradise.
 
Rarely did he blame others
But this time
He did not hesitate
That snake eyed Lucy Fair
For the mess of it.
''So what is wrong with you?
Eve asked, as Adam
Was holding a hand to his side.
''Don't know.  I think  
I've been hit by a tiny dinosaur
Or maybe a mini Rhinothosorus Rex.
''Some people don't follow the rules''
He said, pointing to a stone tablet:
Town ordonnance Law Number twelve
''Thou shalt have pets on a leash''.
''Ah, but there are crétins and mécréants''
 
But Adam was interrupted as a man approached,
Lust in his eyes as he saw the nudity and the beauty
Of Eve
''Hello'' the man said (his name judas, you see)
''You might need those'', offering clothes
And pointing to a Garden's ordonnance
''Thou shalt don clothes''  
Still, foam at the mouth in the direction
Of Eve.
''I might be able to help you,
Strangers in a strange land as you seem to be''
''Yes, thank you, kind stranger'' Adam replied,
'We've been hit with something like a Tsunami.
Incredible satanic force''.
''No  problem, replied Judas, ''If you'll come this way''
Guiding Eve with his hand at her lower back.
 
God, meanwhile, in the background listening,
But let go for the present
As He had lusty visions of his own to deal with,
That develishly fabulous Lucy Fair still  on His mind.

So God was not happy
His nemesis Dame Lucy Fair
Always messing with His projects,
First distracting Him
With her beauty and thus
Sending Adam and Eve
To Aden instead of Eden.
And continuing so....
Constantinople was a fission
And bad times (for who likes a split?)
Might as well be a long distance
Relationship - difficult as best,
Hardly sustainable
(Just like Himself and the nasty
And sometimes brutal though   gorgeous
Lucy Fair when she had that
Fire in her eyes.
Worse yet when some of His
Most devoted formed groups
And decided that one would
Become God on earth
(Nice work, Lucy Fair)
And named himself pope.
Lofty aim, lofty goal.
To reach moral purity
And, eventually, heaven above.
Yes, lofty aim, but as has been said,
Power corrupts and absolute power
Corrupts absolutely.
And worse, from Lucy Fair's
Twisted  mind and dastardly influence
On the weak flesh of men
Just a few examples,
As pope John XII.
His palace was well known to be a
A brothel.
Alexander VI had four kids
While being a priest.  One was
Lucretia Borgia, of fame.
Benedict was homosexual (bad news,
Even today in many places and circles)
And practiced sodomy and bestiality
And Sixtus IV, who Lucy Fair
barely tolerated because he
Endorsed prosecution of witchcraft.
On and on and on.
Even to this day
Pedophilia being a plague
In the priesthood
And Lucy Fair keeps going on
With that smirky smile
On her face
While God is at His wits
Ends, sits at His desk
And cries.

He said "I Am"
and I believed He, is.

So the journey began,
within myself
and I found He is there
in all places.

He is in the whispered names
of cats
before they come to me, and
in the logic
that arranges my DNA.

He is in the Proverbs 31 Woman
who I am still becoming, and
in that which is found
on Earth, as it is in Heaven--
not the other way around;
He is where everything here, came from.

He is the conscience
that sets the internal radar, tuned
to peace among the storms, and
the one who tells me
where to find Him
off the beaten paths.

He is building me a mansion--
for nothing more than my faith, and
my "Yes, I believe you..."

He is the one who walks with me
through gardens and ocean waves, while
keeping His finger on the "detonate" button
for when He's had enough
of satan's kingdom.

He is the one who meets me
where I am at, and
will be there, outside of time
waiting for the prodigals to come home.

He is, the Alpha and the Omega.

 

There was once a god.
He could make big storms
and throw worlds into oblivion.

His wish was reality.
The Fire of the Depths
and the eye of the hurricane
were his as much as
the comets in the sky.


One day he did
his wrath falling
over the men
and the places
where they had been.


There was so much damage
that only a bird
and two snails remained.


The bird was aware
that he itself was not a god
and the snails would not joke
about something so absurd.


The bird one day shit
on the shoulder of the god.
He was too divine
to notice.


He was a god.
Even though he had
shit on his shoulder,
although he felt
in the distance, a smell
so outside of his divinity.


As a god who values himself
he always liked
the public places
and the strange odors
from foreign entities
at Dominican Masses…
in solitary cloisters…
in assemblies of the republic…
at faculty meetings.


PAR

So the Biblical Eden
And its four rivers
Is to be found in what is today
Modern Iraq.
But the people of  yore
Could not know that God created
Another Eden in the West.
In the US Midwest, actually.
An Eden called  Hapkatschawa
In old Aropi language and still found
In its  lore and traditions.
As per their Shaman, four rivers flowed
To and from this Paradise protected by Golden Arches.
(Today a barren place in some desert).
People were made aware of the evils roaming
Beyond the realm of Paradise.
Adamthakha was  content to stay where he was
There were plenty of fish around and the hunting was good.
But Evithiyakhi was restless. Bored.
Nag nag nag....he did not like but could not live without her.
So one day in early Spring they packed their goods
Left with their infant son, left everything else behind and headed west.
The first days  and weeks were lovely.  Evithiyahki  was in a great mood.
Soon they found she was pregnant. They decided to stay for some months
But shortly after Son Number Two was born, Evi got restless again.
Bad move as they were faced with increasingly cold weather and harsh winds.
They found themselves stuck in a passage in the mountains,
A passage called Donersthaka. Trapped and no way to get back.
Adamthakha had barely time to build a hut to protect his loved ones.
The the vandals arrived,
They killed them all except the youngest son.
Paradise lost.

God was at home
Of a pleasant evening
Having a lovely
Spiritual reading
With Lady Mary,
Who was His mother
And He the loving son
(The Holy Ghost rarely
There to attend
More busy devilishly
Scaring people in
Some English Castle)
Ya, the Holy Ghost,
A useless twit
Never there when you
Had serious questions
For He wished to ask
Who His father was
A question too delicate
To ask of His beloved Mother,
The chaste and virginal Mary.
Some nasty and cruel tongues
Like Dame Lucy Fair
Suggested that he was
His own father....mind boggling,
Too shocking to ponder and yet...
Did that mean incest in the family?
He was scared of His own question
But did not need to reflect further
For the moment - as there was
A beep on his computer.
Speaking of the devil.
A ''lovely'' note from that
Dastardly yet so gorgeous
Lucy Fair.
He shielded His mother
From this view
As the pics on the screen
Were much tooooo lewd
Though He could not
Take His eyes away from the screen.
An invite to a party.
Many of her permanent residents
Would be there
Including former popes,
Members of the Curia
Purple robes galore.
''Incest'' was the theme
And by such they were
All enthused,
A few of their wives
Concubines and children
Would be along.
The gorgeous piece loved
To tease Him
And He politely declined,
Switching the screen
To a Do-it-yourself
Carpentry site
Since childhood
A favorite hobby of His
But still with heavy questions
On His mind.

Lucy Fair
Was a good looking dame
Of reknowned fame
But if she lured you
To her lair,
It was the end of freedom
For you
Caught in her fangs
And all the evil there.

Still Not So Great

"Clarity is the enemy of confusion."
                                            -- the definition coherent

*

"Blirky exists."
"Can you define Blirky?"
"Blirky is not physical."
"Neither is nonexistence."
"Blirky is not visible."
"Neither is nonexistence."
"Blirky is not mortal."
"Neither is nonexistence."
"Blirky is not finite."
"Neither is nonexistence."
"Blirky is not measurable."
"Neither is nonexistence."
"Blirky is not subject to time."
"Neither is nonexistence."
"Blirky does not change."
"Neither does nonexistence."
"Blirky does not have limitations."
"Neither does nonexistence."
"Blirky is holy, just, loving, merciful, patient, perfect, provident, supreme, and true."
"This is a list of secondary characteristics.  What are they characteristics of?  
 What is the nature of Blirky possessing them?"
"The nature of Blirky cannot be described."
"Neither can the nature of nonexistence."
"The nature of Blirky cannot be comprehended."
"Despite your comprehensive list of Blirky's attributes whose function,
 presumably, is to enable one to comprehend the nature of Blirky?"
"Blirky is unknowable, Blirky's nature being 'beyond the reach of man's
 understanding.'"
"If Blirky's nature cannot be known, then how can one know Blirky exists?
 To claim Blirky by nature is unknowable, one must first have knowledge of
 Blirky's existence; and thus to that extent, one has knowledge of Blirky
 unknowable, nicely accomplishing the logically impossible."
" . . . Well, God exists."

*
 
a dedication of Respect
for
Logic 101

a revolving helios free verse in dialogue menippean satire on
the common, superstitious, uneducated belief in the existence of
"Blirky" --
not to mention "God"

march, 2023 -- yet deep underground
countless rhymesters of faith
zealously scribbling "poems" of coherent
crap

   God wanted to study medicine.  His Father said no:  it is either theology or your funds are cut down to zero.  So God went for theology, but studied medicine and all sorts of other subject on the side.   Theology classes were pretty much all boring, except that in most of them there was this young lady by the name of Lucy Fair.  Fiery red hair, piercing green eyes the color of the seas, full red lips, nice curves all over and a great smile.  
   Sometimes at home he had difficulty finding sleep, this young lady invading his mind. He intended to ask her to the end-of-the-year ball, but tooooo shy, hesitation kills and his friend Micheal was quicker on the draw anyway, so he settled for Mary.  
   Year later, sitting in front of his computer, meandering through years past and clicking on  Lucy's name he found out that she had erred terribly, hanging around with the wrong crowd, dabbling in drugs, going for robberies (she loved jewels) and ending up in jail.  Still, the pic showed that she hadn't changed much in appearance, always great looking and, for her, he still had buzzes in his belly.  
   He clicked on a button and sent her a message.