66 Day Poetry Habit, God Poems, Poetry

Goddess Physis: Goddess ALL

One feminine hand one
Masculine hand wearing
A heavy gold watch ticking

She sat down inside me
Settled down inside me
Her heavenly blue

Robes enfolded me as
Heaven IS and enfolds
Her, Her head all my head

My thoughts all Her
Thoughts She the Law the
Law Love

She said
Don’t
Be Afraid

-M.
(Day 14 of my 66 Day Poetry Habit. I made it to two weeks! -Victory lap-)

66 Day Poetry Habit, God Poems, Poetry

Mortality Beyond Divinity

Gods misunderstand
Death—Death himself
Deathless misunderstands
Forever destruction—forever
Loss—a self that decays inside
Itself until it disappears.

A god, from a full-
Bodied god can become a
Lesser-bodied god—an
Insignificant pinpoint of
Flickering ether, but still
Sovereign though infinitesimal and
Over unbounded time can
Gather unto its own flickering
Ether substance—body new
Come to body that was and
Will be forever

Body new come to body eternal that
Misunderstands body new
Come to dust
Depersonalized as dust comes
To gather to itself
A noisome film
On the cradle ledge of an infinitely
Born and born and born
Infant god

-M.
(Day 12 of my 66 Day Poetry Habit)

66 Day Poetry Habit, God Poems, Poetry

My Footprints Alone

Dear god, I would prefer
You not
Carry me over the rocks

I would prefer
You let my feet touch earth
Once in a while

A smothering love
That atrophies my appendages—
Hobbles my run and walk

Is no proper penance
For absenteeism and
Hard neglect

And me allowing it—
The crippling love
Is no proper forgiveness

Find another way
Find another way
Find another way

-M.
(Day 5 of my 66 Day Poetry Habit)

God Poems, NaPoWriMo, Poetry

Rape Is Not Exactly the Word (NaPoWriMo Day 2)

These beautiful men
These beautiful women

I was their bright angel
in a time of bright angels

in the time when I and my kind
were toppled to the desert god
the one and only
the perfect to our many
flawed and
unchaste.

Rapture is the word
closer to the word.

There
that makes me feel better

confessing now as a dear and
moral friend to the mortal race.

I came and came and
pigsty sex to me was
to them the quickening
touch of the holy hands and
body all sanctified
of an agent of their lord.

It is no excuse but
they were better for it.

In a way
I loved them all.

-M.

God Poems, Nature Poem, Poetry

God Nature

Young Son Virile Boy
Humps his way through the underbrush
Eats out every night
Comes home for dinner
Head grows into the crown

Granddad Limp Limb
Back in the cave
Waits for ointment and
His good bitch to come back

Dad gone
to town for pussy and heartburn
Where’d all the good ones get to?
Loin cloth at the dry cleaner’s
Drags dick and briefcase along the jagged path home

-M.