Category: Religion

God Is Neither This Nor That

God is a cosmic vending machine that dispenses whatever we want. He is a genie that grants us three chances to get revenge. He will not hold us from suffering. God will not hesitate to kill us if we do not listen to the frenzied singing of his various devils in our world.

Look around you. Do you see that red glint in the eyes of your lover? Do you see the steam rising from the hole in the ground? Do you hear the wolves howling at your front door? Do you think God is merciful? The last time I checked, God was eating away at my insides, and He whispered in my ear that he would tear my body to shreds and spit me out into the cosmic void.

God is part Rapture, a part Fiend. God is everything you don’t know, will never know, and can never know. The fear of the unknown, the churning disorder of your terror attacks. God is the most dreadful face you have ever seen. God is reading this right now and is planning his attack. God called me on the telephone and told me he hated me. God does not exist. God is everywhere. God is in the in-between spaces. God is a ball of fire. God is a murderous homeless man.

God is not this, nor is he that.

Thank God for this prayer. Thank God for the times you left home and didn’t go back. Praise God for the weeping of the saints. Let God know you love him every time he punishes you. Say a prayer for the meek that will inherit the alien planets, and then set fire to your house and dance on the ashes.

Stupid Hope (a poem)

Grasping in the dark and there are no meanings here
I have lost all that; a door closed and trapped now
What caused this to happen? When did it all get so dark?
I am no different than anyone else with his share of heartache
My story is not especially sad, but perhaps my brain is broken
Creativity flows forth, and that’s when I sense a lightness
But under the skin, all I see is the muck and grime
I read about what we do to each other – all those crimes
And now all I see is the grief of the world
I write it down and release the bitterness
But nothing seems beautiful like it used to be
Only the plastic sheen of a pornographic culture
Will my God turn on the light in this dark room?
The only thing I do in these moments is hold on to a stupid hope
Each day more of my innocence is lost
Until even the most beautiful sunset seems like desktop wallpaper
But the stupid hope remains, a mustard seed
And I hope it will grow again one day

My Faith Today

I am the daughter of a heterosexual White Christian couple from Tennessee. I am the granddaughter of many generations of southern families. I am unclear if any of my family ever owned slaves, but I won’t rule it out. I was raised in the church, but in reflecting upon everything I learned as a child, it was not the church that taught me how to be a good person – it was my mother and my grandmothers.

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New World (Part 8) – A Poetry Journal

4-25-22 – 1:19 p.m.

There needs to be divine justice for the world to make sense. Otherwise, our lives are meaningless, and the wicked get away with everything. I saw glimpses of redemption in my father’s face before he died. There were shards of light in his dark eyes that shined amid the hazy, drug-induced stupor.

There’s a part of me I don’t recognize. It’s the part I repress and push down; it comes bursting forth sometimes. The collective unconscious is very real, no matter what you may think. We are not blank slates, and we’ve lived many lifetimes before this one. Each soul is reincarnated and recycled.

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