Posts Tagged ‘God’

The Mind of God

Tuesday, August 9th, 2011

In the mind of God
Lies infi­nite vio­lence
Sad angels laugh in des­per­a­tion…
Claws scrape across bar­ri­caded win­dows
Screech­ing and ter­ri­ble
In their finality

“Can I sit with you?“
Her front teeth were miss­ing
But it only made her
More beau­ti­ful
Like the dam­aged statue of a God­dess
Who had sur­vived the abuse of time and Hun invaders

Phar­ma­ceu­ti­cal lobot­o­mies bind the truth seers tongue
The feral bark­ing of wild dogs
The only poetry left

“Will you love me?“
She asked
As she lay down to die

Fire is no longer Fire
but
Exha­la­tions of God’s con­tempt
Leav­ing behind blacked pil­lars
and marred beauty
Dam­aged dreams

“Will you smile for me?“
She asked

Blood seeped from her eyes
Her mouth
She paints her­self
I silently scream
In the red of Novas
Pas­sion stains her pale skin

Empty chairs …empty thrones… empty words…
Street Dogs look at me with know­ing eyes…
They howl a wild song
Echo­ing through the stars
They blacken the dark­ness
Give birth to an old truth

“You must love me else I die alone”

Tears are not soft pil­lows upon which to rest
They are acetic and burn like Greek fire

What was I to do?
She became liq­uid in my arms
I could sip her from a straw
Taste her essence
Anoint myself
In her bloody water of truth

I sought night­mares
To shade
What she had become

Yet
She boiled away
and was no more

Her vapor painted the room
And I walked alone
Into the night

Don’t throw the corpes on our doorstep

Monday, June 13th, 2011

Red Fez

Of God, Gods, Toothpaste and Deodorants

Thursday, November 4th, 2010

Ever go to the super­mar­ket to buy tooth­paste and you’re con­fronted with about 100 choices? If you’re like me it’s like, “What the fuck! why you doing this to me?” I hate mak­ing deci­sions. And don’t get me started on deodorants.

Deities are like that, you got thou­sand of choices and they’ve been around longer than tooth­paste or deodor­ants. Ya got your monothe­ists, poly­the­ist, ya got Gods as celes­tial objects, nature, inan­i­mate objects, Shit, Native Amer­i­cans believed in a giant tur­tle, no shit and ya won­der why they lost all their land? Their God was much too slow to help them and by the time the fucker got it’s head out of it’s shell their land was gone. Poof. Never pick a Turtle.

Gods have been around since we col­lect­edly real­ized we were all pretty much fucked in this world. So If bad things hap­pened our God(s) was pissed so we had to please him by gath­er­ing lau­rel leaves, sac­ri­fic­ing goats, vir­gins, our kids what­ever as long as we didn’t have to sac­ri­fice our­selves. We are indeed a self­ish lot. But it gave us the delu­sion of input or con­trol into why we are always get­ting fucked over. It gave us a process for input or influ­ence into Real­ity which is basi­cally the ran­dom­ness inher­ent in our exis­tence. This process is reli­gion, a struc­tured means to influ­ence our God(s) of choice regard­less of how bizarre that process might be.

This write is a sorta like a movie review. I will rate who I con­sider the coolest, mean­est and most dyna­mite God(s) to choose from so you don’t have to think too much I mean who likes to think, right? Soo…

The list is far too long so I’m gonna get rid of a few thou­sand with some basic rules I think we all can agree on.

I’m highly sus­pi­cious of any Reli­gion less than 1500 years old they go right in the hop­per. Let’s face it if your God was asleep for most of recorded Human his­tory and decided to show up say in 1830 as he appar­ently did to Joseph Smith;well he ain’t much of a God, or he has some kind of sleep dis­or­der. Savvy? So the Church of Lat­ter day Saints or Mor­mon God goes bye bye. Same goes for the Jeho­vah Wit­nesses which were founded in 1852, not only will I shit can their God but I urge the imme­di­ate exe­cu­tion of all it’s mem­bers. Who can argue with that?

All the “ticism’s” such as Zoroas­tri­an­ism or Mys­ti­cism or Asceti­cism while they’ve been around a long time. I just don’t like the sound of their names, too fuck­ing long And if I don’t like the name of your reli­gion then they get shit canned also.

All the east­ern reli­gions such as Hin­duism, Bud­dhism, Tao­ism go out the win­dow sim­ply because I have no idea what the fuck they are talk­ing about. Nir­vana? what the fuck is that? Ain’t it a band? Besides the dick­heads I see in Amer­ica who think they’re cool because they walk around say­ing Namaste get on my nerves. Those reli­gions require shit like med­i­ta­tion, spir­i­tu­al­ism, con­cern for all life forms and as an Amer­i­can I have no time for that shit.

The Roman Gods? Fuck them too. They are Ital­ians and I hate Ital­ians besides the Romans never had an orig­i­nal thought in their lives, check it out. They stole the Greek Gods basi­cally word for word they change their names to plan­ets, Aphrodite became Venus, Zeus became Jupiter. So fuck the gin­nies and their Gods.

Now the meat and pota­toes.
Greek Gods were hands down the coolest Gods out there. I believe the forced retire­ment of all the Greek Gods from the deity pan­theon the great­est spir­i­tual tragedy in our lives. Take Zeus, all he wanted to do was get laid, no shit his whole God­hood was involved with get­ting Pussy. He even fucked his sis­ter. And the shit he did for pussy was astound­ing dis­guis­ing him­self as a bull, a bird. Now I thought I was inven­tive in get­ting laid Zeus was… well a God at it. And they were petty, revenge­ful, self­ish, mean, self cen­tered. Just like us. Yea, I miss Olympus.

The Nordic Gods ya know Odin, Thor, Loki they scare the shit outta me them fuck­ers just wanted to fight, maim and kill. They never had time for fuck­ing cause they were fight­ing all the time. Yea, Asgard was one large keg party that got out of hand. But they do have some cool stories.

Now the Monothe­is­tic heavy­weights.
Judaism which is old tes­ta­ment God. Well as pricks go the Jew­ish God was a real prick. That fucker killed peo­ple for fun, flooded the earth, destroyed cities. Yah­weh had absolutely no sense of humor. Not sure if he ever did one kind thing, I’m seri­ous, it was like he was con­stantly con­sti­pated and took it out on mankind. The Jew­ish God was a para­noid fuck always test­ing peo­ple to see if they loved him. He even fucked over Moses. Got news for you Jew God you’re a real Cock­sucker and nobody loves you! And for you Jews out there you can think what ya want but maybe he’s not com­ing back it’s been at least 3000 years per­haps it’s time to take that extra serv­ing of din­ner­ware off the table.

Islam, they barely make the cut mak­ing its first appear­ance to some towel head in the sixth cen­tury A.D.. These dudes are bor­der­line east­ern reli­gion and I’m not sure what the fuck they’re talk­ing about either. They took the old and new tes­ta­ment did a quick rewrite and told the world, “Hey, we found a new God!” Really? Where was he hid­ing? In the desert? Hey if I was a God that’s where I would hide, no scenery, no water, per­fect. Islam and Chris­tian­ity share a com­mon bond, they have the most fucked up rad­i­cal fol­low­ers of any reli­gion. And you can’t fuck with their reli­gion either they get all prissy about it. Which of course requires me to say, fuck you Islam and fuck you Mohammed. You’re noth­ing more than an expan­sion team!

Finally Chris­tian­ity
My incul­cated faith. Chris­tian­ity has a real iden­tity crises cause you got Catholics, Epis­co­palians, Luther­ans, Methodist. It’s like make up your fuck­ing minds will ya? Chris­tian­ity is one big mind fuck no one knows what they believe in. It’s all new tes­ta­ment about this cat named Jesus. Now Jesus was a pretty cool guy he threw some nasty fish and wine par­ties and the shit never ran out. The trou­ble with Jesus as a deity is that he really got fucked over in the end. And deep down inside every Chris­t­ian won­ders, “Wow, if God did that to his son what the fuck is he going to do to me?”

As reli­gions go Chris­tian­ity is a log­i­cal night­mare and all the chris­t­ian writ­ers really had to do some cre­ative writ­ing to explain Chris­tian­ity. “Jesus was God, no I mean the Son of God, no I mean a part of the Holy Trin­ity, and we drink his blood and eat his body at mass” No we’re not can­ni­bals it’s like, eh… sym­bolic” and “Who the fuck made up that Vir­gin birth story? How the fuck do we explain that!” “ Yea Chris­t­ian writ­ers are top notch they have to be.

Well there you have it my place in hell once again firmly estab­lished. Now I hear you “What do you believe in Odd?” I have a strange way of think­ing and I come at “God” kinda back­wards. Cause I know evil exists, I see it, it’s real and it’s a spir­i­tual entity that is here on earth right now. So there has to be a good or a God so to speak cause if there wasn’t we would have killed each other long ago. Now don’t ya hate when I’m serious?

Respect­fully sub­mit­ted,
The Odd­est of Poets

Behind the Finery

Wednesday, October 13th, 2010

Behind the fin­ery it lies
Per­fumed
Caked in makeup
Like a fat whore
Hid­ing pock marked skin
And razor scars
Carv­ing its story
Across the face
In blood red font

Like a movie set
A façade
Where Beaver and Wally
Dance with broom sticks
Prepar­ing
To woo the girl of their dreams
All the while­fangs glis­sen like fine ivory,
June Cleaver’s fangs
Glis­ten
Like fine ivory
Prepar­ing school lunches
Lay­ered in false promises
And unend­ing night

On this stage
Actors
Stick fig­ures
Card­board cutouts
Speak­ing mono­syl­labic
Affir­ma­tions
To Baal
The end­ing
Always
Ordained

Why read the book?

Wax Museum

Monday, September 27th, 2010

I clawed at the sky
With talons of bes­tial imagery
Rends of Cerulean blue
Flut­tered down
Atop mor­bid cir­cuses
Atop cru­ci­fix­ions
Atop yard sales and
Funeral processions

The blood stained hands of God
Snaked through the lac­er­ated sky
Weav­ing incan­ta­tions
Shap­ing mys­tery
Ply­ing fate
Can­cel­ing resurrections

Trum­pets on recall
Kazoos announce the majesty
The divin­ity
The sacred con­tract
Failed Saints
Take up the chant
Pedes­trian mar­tyrs
With mis­placed scripts
Crawl atop mounds of sin­ners
Enjoy­ing one last fuck
Before last call
For absolution

It’s Sun­day
Take a num­ber
Take a seat

This shit’s gonna take a while

Rollin & Tumblin

Saturday, June 12th, 2010

The Street Breathes hack­saw rhythms
Young girls check for signs of men­stru­a­tion
Door stop mavens say God ain’t dead
He’s just in the South of France sun­ning
He’ll be back and as soon as he finds his scepter

Euro­pean Kings try­ing to make a come­back
Tout inbred genes and palace intrigues
Every Thurs­day night right after “The World ain’t got no talent”

Can­cer genes rise and float on amor­phous clouds
Laugh­ing and gig­gling
Con­sult­ing with the ora­cle of the damned
before descend­ing on Joe the mail­man
Two weeks away from retirement.

Me?
I’m just Rollin & Tum­blin
Rollin & tum­blin
Won­derin
If the Gods have Gods

Dream­ers vomit up yes­ter­days
Prepack­aged
In stan­dard belief pat­terns
Strands of inno­cence
Find no pur­chase
evap­o­rates
Lonely motes
Dust­ing Gaia’s weary bones

Me?
I’m just Rollin & Tum­blin
Rollin & Tum­blin
Won­derin
If the Gods believe in their Gods

Fire red blood
paint a land­scape
Only I can see
Soft­ened by the gen­tle blue of still­born babies
Mouths frozen in per­pet­ual why

Brides dressed in white
With pun­gent piss stains
Run­ning down sequined trains
Promise immac­u­late con­cep­tion
to well oiled machines

Me?
I’m just Rollin & Tum­blin
Rollin & Tum­blin
Won­derin
If Gods can be athe­ist
or are they just
Rollin & Tum­blin
Rollin & Tumblin

And God smiled

Tuesday, April 13th, 2010

Savage cold froze tears
Shed in the unquench­able fires
The click clack of cat­tle cars
On smooth high­ways of steel
Hyp­no­tized
Like the coiled rat­tle of snakes
Ven­omous and demand­ing



The air was stale
Tainted by tired breath
Love had no place here
It fled
Embar­rassed by its weak­ness
Its false heart
Yet singing its own glory
Skip­ping and hold­ing hands with invis­i­ble Jus­tice



Herded into shacks
Made of Earth bone
Cursed wood
And the dried hides of Demons
The tor­tured screams of sac­ri­fi­cial lambs
Bleat­ing
mes­mer­iz­ing
drown­ing out all sounds
Of nor­malcy
Appendages of the damned
Clawed Blood runes onto wooden floors
Incan­ta­tions invok­ing divin­ity



“Am I not a Son of David?“
“Wouldst thou for­sake me Lord?“



The sky rum­bled and parted in majes­tic dis­play
And
God
Smiled


Hud­dled skele­tal mon­sters
Where flesh refused to take root
Bones grow­ing
Skin with­er­ing
Daugh­ters raped
The teeth of Sons removed for metal
To fash­ion char­i­ots for ancient Death Kings
Life­times removed from false hope
A miasma of evil Blot­ted Sun
it will never be inno­cent again
Nor will it ever shine as bright



Lib­er­a­tors bear­ing sticks of death
Saw the walk­ing corpses
In this camp of death
They vom­ited up fake hel­los
And shal­low mean­der­ings
Of a dis­tant san­ity
For­ever lost
To evil’s banal face



The world stopped
And was rede­fined



The skele­tal horde
Walked as col­lec­tive accu­sa­tions



As one man
they looked
To the sky
And demanded
“How can this be?”

The sky parted
Seraphim’s and Elohim’s
Bore the Arc of the Covenant
Blaz­ing in Nova light
Pow­er­ful voices Boomed
Across the dark­ened sky
“Holy Holy Holy“
“Behold the face of omnipotence”

God Looked down
And
God



Smiled

The Vultures Sing

Tuesday, February 23rd, 2010

The Vul­tures sing
A vicious song
Rapa­cious
Bit­ter



Hun­gry



Patient



Glid­ing
Upon invis­i­ble air
Wings paint­ing death



Their clock ticks slow
Like metronomes
Bleed­ing
Mor­tal­ity



Their har­mony
Dis­cor­dant
Jagged
Dis­so­nant
Atonal
Sus­pended fourth
Need­ing res­o­lu­tion



They alight
On the fir­ma­ment
Coal black eyes
See­ing through Life
Pass the veil
Into eter­nal
Damna­tion



Wait­ing
For the last beat of the heart
For the feast



They are God’s
Favorite chil­dren



He loves their song
Plays it con­stantly
On his celes­tial iPod



“Sing my off­spring”
“Sing me to sleep”



God slept



And
No one
NO ONE
NO ONE



Can



Ever
Wake
That
Mother
Fucker
Up





So I’m dead…Right?

Friday, December 25th, 2009

So I’m dead.

How do I know?

When you die there is this pre-recorded mes­sage that plays in you head.

You might be con­fused at the moment but let us assure you that you are indeed dead and we will be ser­vic­ing you shortly. Please wait in line and we promise an eter­nity of bliss awaits you. Thank you for your patience, the Management”

Now I am really pissed, I’m dead and I have to deal with voice mail? Bad enough I had to deal with it when I was alive.  At least they didn’t have an Indian accent…

So I’m wait­ing in line and there are some dick­weeds in front of me who are piss­ing me off. I’m hold­ing back because I am per­pet­u­ally pissed and I don’t want to cause a scene. The last thing I need is to get a Rep that I am a dead loose cannon.

Now the dicks in front of me are all excited about see­ing Mom and Dad and Grandma and Pa again… I’m like shut the fuck up and who gives a shit.

Now three places back there is a croc­o­dile in line. I’m like what the fuck is a croc­o­dile doing in line with dead humans? Nor­mally I would kick it’s ass but he is a big sucker about 20 feet long and rather large teeth. I want to start a con­ver­sa­tion with him, let’s face it how many oppor­tu­ni­ties do you get to have a con­ver­sa­tion with a dead fuck­ing reptile.

So I mosey back and say, “Yo croc what the fuck you doing here?” Believe it or not he has these read­ing glasses on and he speaks with an impec­ca­ble British accent. I’m like “This is too fuck­ing cool.” He tells me is name is Peter and he was rein­car­nated as a Croc he was king of France at one time. I’m doubt­ful; of course it seems every­one at one time was King of France. He seems like a cool dude. So I ask the obvi­ous ques­tion, “What the fuck you doing in line with dead peo­ple shouldn’t you be in the croc­o­dile line?” He apol­o­gizes pro­fusely and tells me even though he is a croc he still feels like the King of France. Who am I to argue.

I ask him if he wants to go to the Bar and he does. Now dead peo­ple drink like fish and the bar is packed so I ask him if he minds clear­ing a spot for us and he quickly chomps two fuck­ers down and WA-La we have seats. We start hav­ing a good time, he is a funny fucker and he has me laugh­ing my ass off over sto­ries about bang­ing the Queen of Eng­land. Shit, he said he nailed about all the royal pussy in Europe. I’m jeal­ous because all I nailed were some crack whores and an occa­sional mar­ried woman. What are you going to do.  Now the loud speaker announces “now serv­ing the dead croc who was once King of France” He apol­o­gizes and picks up the tab. I’m like “totally cool man”

He leaves and I’m stuck dead with fuck­ing humans. What are you going to do.

A Conversation with God

Tuesday, December 15th, 2009

Photobucket

To be or not to be” Any of you dudes out here truly know what ques­tion the Bard asks?
Well, not many peo­ple think about mor­tal­ity. Don’t blame them.
Back to “The Bard” six words that defines the nature or essence of our existence.

I am the only jerk off, I think, who will call God a Dick­weed! Just did it, not smited yet, (guess that comes later)

Any­way, I go to Heaven, and there is God, drool­ing and snor­ing on his recliner, remote on the floor, a Hus­tler mag on his lap.

So I wake the fucker up.

God, wake the fuck up, your “Cre­ation” is in dire need of your omnipo­tent services.”

Well, the fuck snores away, well on the 7th day he rested. I did not take that to mean a fuck­ing per­ma­nent vaca­tion. I am forced to slap his fuck­ing noggin!

Well, I did and he finally wakes up, thun­der, light­ning the whole show!

The Archangels have blades drawn on my throat and even those fag­got Cherubs are bit­ing my ass. Cause I pissed him off.

Poet”, he says, as he wipes the droll from his lips, “did I not kill you? Or, at the very least, it has to be on my things to do list.”

Well, that did not give me a warm and fuzzy.

God, Ulti­mate Dude of Dudes, A lit­tle help is needed on earth.”

Poet! Ass­hole, The only rea­son you exist is because you are a funny fuck!
Don’t push it BABE!” “And, being omnipo­tent, I bequeathed, free will upon ye. Which, ulti­mately means…You’re on your own.”

God! Alpha and Omega, hear me out Dude. I under­stand the free will con­cept; but, maybe some guid­ance, a mir­a­cle here and there.”

It’s a mir­a­cle you are still alive!”

“I know God, Emperor of all Cre­ation, I am an ass­hole, freely given. But how bout some mir­a­cles! Maybe cure every child suf­fer­ing from can­cer under… say 12?”

Must have struck a chord, because I could see his Divin­ity thinking.

I took the time to sur­rep­ti­tiously kick one of those fag­got bit­ing Cherubs in the groin. I swear if God was not there I would have kicked all those lit­tle fuck’s asses

Poet, I see your point. But I hes­i­tate to inter­fere with Human­ity. Free Will I have ordained”

I dig it, Big Chief of the Uni­verse, But Satan’s run­ning ram­pant on earth, war, dis­ease, famine and Repub­li­cans have been run­ning the show!”

REPUBLICANS!!!!!!” I could see the big guy was upset; how­ever, he continued.

“I see your plight Poet, but free will rules the day. I can not inter­fere and that is final!”

God, head hon­cho, think I can get in to see JC?”

Poet, you are very close to being dead! get out of here. You are not com­ing here any­way!” “Nor can you expect an invi­ta­tion in the future.”

See­ing that I was out­num­bered, and the fact that he was right.…and.…. God did not give a fuck. I was ush­ered, not too kindly, I might add, from Heaven, And Poof I am here.

Gee, aren’t you lucky. Well, think­ing of a way I can cru­cify myself. Got the wood, know I can nail my left hand to the cross, the prob­lem is hav­ing, said, left hand nailed, I am unable to nail my right hand to the cross! Which requires me to plea for help!

Ring.….…..

Hello” “Ehhh.….Don, I need a hand.“
“Poet…watts up, Dude!”
“Don, I need a hand.”

What?“
“I am try­ing to cru­cify myself and I need a hand.”

Christ, Poet are you into one of your to be or not to be moods?” “Fuck you!” Click.….

dial tone…

Well.…That IS the question

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