Archive for God
November 3, 2009 at 12:26 pm
· Filed under Estonia, God, car, poem, poetry, snow
The dogs and I venture into an alien landscape,
Lapland, Siberia, the Martian surface, new snow
like frozen ashes, like dead skin flaking from
the god of all things too cold and forbidding.
Those twenty centuries passed in the shtetls
on the Russian steppes, in the ghettos of Krakow,
Smolensk, L’vav, were nary enough time to
accustom my blood to the profound absence of light.
I crave sunshine, orange juice, olive groves, warm
sand and blue water, and the company of dark-
complected souls who collect the sun’s rays
and reflect them in warm and lively conversation.
On this third day of November, when my world
has turned from green to white, all color drained
like blood from a corpse, I feel like a car spinning
on an icy grade, or skidding toward the ditch.
Permalink
October 3, 2009 at 8:19 pm
· Filed under God, car, fall, night, poem, poetry ·Tagged birds, poem, poetry
I worry about the birds — these birds,
singing here in this tree, whose names
I do not know, who best, I think, be
heading south — and all the children
of all the friends I have known and forgotten,
in cars on dark, curvy roads. Where
could they be going on a night like this?
The sky is too wide, the forest too deep
to fret for every falling leaf. For this,
men invent gods, multitudes of them.
They watch over fish and fowl,
beast and man who creates them
in the image to which he aspires —
all knowing and all seeing.
I see the skunk — that one
dashing across the big curve
between South Range and Trimountain —
sleek, beautiful, head down, tail flying,
a black and white banner of night.
Take care, fellow traveler, you and I
have little ones waiting at home.
Permalink
September 8, 2009 at 10:04 pm
· Filed under God, breasts, cherry blossom, coffee, grape, human heart, legs, love, lovers, lunch, lust, moon, naked, night, poem, poetry, sex, sexual, song, star, tattoos, universe, womb
I will drink nine cups of coffee at nine;
I will plant nine acorns in nine holes
on nine hills;
I will serve nine platters of nine cupcakes
with nine candles;
I will send nine letters to nine editors
on nine serious subjects;
I will tell nine friends nine secrets
in nine languages;
I will feed nine sardines to nine cats
with nine lives;
I will follow the nine commandments
of the god of 729 names;
I will pleasure my ninth lover nine times
at her nine erogenous zones;
I will compose nine songs of celebration
for the eight planets
and Pluto, the cartoon dog.
Permalink
September 2, 2009 at 2:17 pm
· Filed under Creation, God, poem, poetry, short poem, star, stars, universe
In the beginning
God breathed
and created the Universe
out of nothing
and never before.
And the Universe was Good
and God Was Good;
ergo, God is the Universe
and the Universe, God.
Mind you, this is not
a testable proposition.
When God breathes in,
the Universe expands;
when He breathes out,
the universe contracts.
Breathe in
and you are one
with the Universe.
Breathe out
and you create
a new world.
Your breath is the wind
that stirs tiny stars.
Blow!
Permalink
