deepundergroundpoetry.com

God's Boredom

(04/11/09)
I wrote this to him like an answer
To his question
A student approaching his mentor
With fervor inspired by his
Thunder
That lunatic manifesto
Had struck me beyond
The grave
Poison lain in wait
For long days
Gives rise to this fever pitch

My brothers were
All joined as integral members of the coterie
This persisted until the  
Division of our pride mongering
And it is among these lessons
From which I will draw
To speak
  
I am great and terrible, sir
As I must be, to stand in opposition
Your planets are jovian
Volcanic
Despotic
Metallic
Merciless
  
You shall find me
Formidable
And though my manner is often
Ungentlemanly
I offer this rebuttal
To an offhand remark
Quoted as your own though
Who knows
No one living for sure
  
Though belated beyond my power
I here accept the challenge I had found
Therein
  
*
  
In the first hours
When the mounting of days were measured
By growth of living things
And melancholia of sky
All men were infants
Suckling the soiled teat of a world
That was without boundary of imagination
  
I was not there, but I have read the tale
In rings of bark
In weathered hands that grasp for others
Lovers, treasured objects
That are long gone
In the vacant gaze of avians
And the recessed eyes of reptiles
That I have peered into
Fearlessly
From a distance
  
Evolution
Is a war
Of innovation
My mind is dangerous
Swift in variance of tactics
  
The right of challenge was the only
Possible means of progress
Through a linear existence where
In each instance
One force amongst many
Or in our most captivating tales
One of two opposing forces
Will prevail
And the other
Incurs the wrath of the victor
The other
Inevitably
Falters
  
..
  
First
There Was
Tutelage
Or
The desire for balanced measures:
  
I've learned something important
About people
You're not so bad
You're searching
As am I
We are all alike
All strangers
  
I've learned some of the whys
When before, I only had a few hows
I tried to follow the movements
First, with my eyes
And then, with the memory that lies
Beyond my senses
Then, when I had gathered enough knowledge
To become a teacher of men
I began to pour my mind into this art
Wherein I have built a towering monument
To my vanity
Ultimately
A futile endeavor
  
Each moment meets us with no chance
Of preparation for the subsequent decisions
That will shape every next occurrence
Most of us, I know
Are just doing our best
Working with what's on hand
And what we know
Is less than true
  
It's what we've worked out for ourselves
Our opinions that brutishly substitute
For being correct, righteous
Just
Whatever we call the outcome of our
Blind sporadic reactions
Our desperate struggle
To extricate from the tangled mess of life
A meaningful and interwoven fabric of principles
This based upon nothing but prevalent
Principles, air
That carries
Voices
The Law
Or
Lexicon
Or
Written word
Situations, perspectives
And nothing more
We are not right
Neither of us are
  
Few things, it seems
Are righteous
They simply are
Whatever they are
Whatever form
That they have flowed into
I believe we try to make solid
That which is not
Nor was ever meant to be
Our souls are in constant flux
And it's exhausting
Trying to keep up with the redefinition
Of self
  
A lot of times
We own the bars
Myself, and my friends
No one else is so
Silly, or brave  
Each such an integral member of our
Coterie, exuding amplified force
  
My mind is full of reverent fire
And I see far
Everything that is within grasp
It's resolution, when events align
A lesson emerges
All becomes a bit clearer
In the message
  
I can taste the needs of others
Like their sweat
Beads on their skin
Their pores are eyes
Their mouths are fingers
  
I know the shape of your fears
For I am often one step ahead or
Behind
I can see what is coming or
What is happening
Only because
I'm watching
Listening
Instead of moving
Rushing
And roaring
  
It occurs to me that
I am not weak
When I am calm
Or even when I am vulnerable
Exposing flaws
I am strong, even then
If less concerned
With the outcomes
Of these outbursts
  
My heart is my life
Is filled with the profundity
Of a truly noble pursuit
Purely, the betterment of self
And by process of time and motion
Maturation
My small contribution to everything
That I am part of
  
Circuits of energy that permeate
Vitalize this crude matter
Giving it purpose
In motion
Giving it strength in action
I must add something useful
I must not falter
  
A single sentient
A microcosm of others
Sufficiently like minded
A community of such
That live and thrive in concordance
With the law of popular election
A populous that
By way of life and circumstance
Are joined in fate
A tiny sputtering mote
In a great and terrible
Vast and sweetly opulent darkness
  
I am all of these
I am one man
A conclave of the same
A nation
A world
And a surrounding darkness
Has come to rest within
Offering a wisdom of ages
That are forgotten by many
But within the care of some
Live on
I am one such
  
..
  
Then
There Was
Sortilege
Or the desire
To imbalance the equation
Gain an improper advantage:
  
Prepare to weather an assault
Upon your existence
And like a bruising blow
May rot or give rise
To new growth
Know the gravity of my disdain
What I am willing to suffer
To grow stronger
  
I would stand when injured
There is no one else around
I would call them to stand for the injury
But there was no one else on their feet
Where I stand sentinel
Over this boorish tapestry
It's tawdry sigils and banners
Rotating at the edges of vision
This blank canvas, over which
My command is obvious
My command is absolute
Though you do not dare enter
The corona of levin light
Where I stand
At the heart
At the center of conflict
Waiting
Where our minds war
I will face you
I know you want my power
I know you want what is mine
All mine
I called to them, when the pain of my injuries
Motivated me to revenge myself
Be done with it, be
Rid of them
  
I know your hungers
Are my own, mirrored in reflection
Of urgency, you equally frighten me
For your unknown capacities and
Proclivities to offer ill advice
Forwarding your own ambition
  
I am a feast of hardened thoughts
My voice is razor sharp
And deafening in a silent array
Of observations, opinions
Recollections and confident statements
All as it comes to me
  
I know you feel my eyes
Searching your faces
As I pass by
  
You feel me watching
And equally
Perhaps the more potently
For my public airing of grievances
And all my misdeeds
Line the stair that I have climbed
To now
Tower above those who judge me
For a moment of honest truth
Judging your misdeeds
And excusing my own
  
Your empire of silence
Standing in judgment
Of all that I offer you freely
Could you take it from me
If I was less forthcoming
Are you really so certain
That I am the villain
As they had asserted  
That you have nothing to offer
Nothing to teach
Will you risk it
And face me here
Where I am so strong
And I called to them who had wronged me
And when encountered stood before them
But none would answer
  
In every instance
One force must proceed
Another must falter
There is motion
In every moment
Movement
In the fibers of all
Existence
And I would meet you there
Gladly
Where subtle fingers pull threads
That weave the tales of fortunes
  
I would suffer that agony
Prometheus knew it
To no longer be a fool
Among fools
I would bear the burden of God
  
..
  
In all closing instances
There is but one
Ultimate
Arrival
Metamorphosis
Or
What I have become
Is what I have learned:
  
I, just as you
Make a daily swim through a universe that is expanding
To escape my grasp
And sympathetic to life
For no better reason
Than God's boredom
With that which already
Exists
A known quantity
An answered question
  
Longing for the unknown
I have seen the face of God
In the briefest of moments
When I was humbled
By the depth of beauty
By shameful defeats
By the enormity of life itself
  
Gatherings of such forces
Within the universe
Occasionally occur
Within this crude matter
Make no mistake
There are men among you touched
By what you call brilliance
But is truly
The lunatic whim of God
I am one of these
  
More energy than matter
I live in the worlds I create
They are mine, and you are a visitor
  
Worlds that mirror each other
And reflect in their yawning choir
The desire to devour you
All your knowledge
All your power
I want it all
  
I offer these planets for you to peruse
And to ponder, asking only  
A moment of your life
  
Cut your flesh and allow me
To drink from your wounds
Give me what you most covet
It is you that gives life to my thoughts
My friends
And for this moment of genius
And what it costs me
To summon it
And to offer it up
To your understandings
You owe me that moment of
Your life

Congruence of living circuits
That compose our movements
Through time and her enemies
Art, love, and all engrossing beauty
They are kind enough to collide
Splinter, fragment, and reform
As a new whole
Occasionally enough that
Our small minds
Their fragile union
Barely capable of withstanding
Transition
Can remain intact enough
To retain a sense of individuality
We are, after all
Very selfish with our knowledge
This is my moment where
I spit it at you
I am the master here
And my teachings are venomous
  
Pain is such an avenue
A causeway by which I will seek
To reach out to you
I need you so
Love me
I am willing to try
And try again
Though it seems you will never join me here
In this realm
Where I am the strongest
I ceased to call to them, then
In the silence that answered
I became calm
  
In the meantime
While I am here, and you are
Somewhere
Else
I'm learning to judge less, just a bit
Love a little more, perhaps a bit easier
And with less constraint of parameter
Perhaps I will bow to you
Perhaps I will acknowledge your strength
Is the greater
If you will but challenge me
I will give you all that I am
  
I'm trying to accept others
Regardless of whether they will make the same
Efforts on my behalf
Does it matter
My own peace of mind is the zenith
Of these concerted efforts
To reach you
  
Your decisions
Your repercussions
These are your journeys
  
And I wish you well
  
*

God's Boredom
By
Daniel Christensen
Writing as
Daniel Shadow Loveless
  
"A subject for a great poet would be God's boredom after the seventh day of creation." - Friedrich Nietzsche
  
Copyright © 2010 by Daniel Christensen
  
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher.
DanielChristensen
Written by DanielChristensen (The Fire Elemental)
Published
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