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)

66 Day Poetry Habit, God Poems, Humor Poem, Poetry

Taco Bell, Downtown Los Angeles: Post-Game

A god in golden overalls leans
Out the driver’s side of an open
Lincoln in the drive-thru
Late night

Tries not to puke

Pukes anyway.

Smiles
Checks his watch
Pays too much for his tacos
Pays too much for our tacos too
Swerves off

We won’t forget it
Who could forget him

He won’t remember
How he got home

-M.
(Day 2 of the 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.

Dreams, God Poems, Poetry

Communion Delirium

He stained my skin with the fruit of his godhood
crushed young strawberries down against my soft places
left listless trails of bruise and pulp

He placed one and another between my teeth
and commanded I bite like I
was an uncivilized thing

close enough to the leaves and stem
to taste the bitter break
between god and creation.

-M.