gives a deity plenty of time
to float about, contemplating
why stars shine cold from afar
and burn when you touch them;
why comets don't collide;
why centres cannot hold.

When gas and rock hold no more secrets,
give a little spark to a proton gradient
on a rock you prepared earlier,
with hydrothermal vents 
and nutrients. Watch your experiment
fuse and form until it finds a shape
into which you may pour 
your own image.

Build a garden. Take a mating pair, 
fully grown, fertile. Remove from them
all recollection of fellows, tell them 
they are the first. Tell the small one 
she owes her existence first to you, 
then to the other. Give them free will. 
Set them loose. Observe.

You know,
from eternity,
that the universe 
despises imbalance.

Your hypotheses are upheld:
1. That the breeding impulse is stronger than rational thought
2. The oppressed will innovate to overthrow those who dominate

The universe may despise imbalance,
but an eternal deity, jaded 
by the infinite passage of stars, 
needs a bit of fun now and then.

Find susceptible minds. Whisper
instructions to them: different for each,
each with the weight of your word,
which shall be called Truth. 
Have it written down.

It could be worse
Didn't William Blake refer to this deity as Nobodaddy?

I agree with the sentiment of the poem. Though I'm sure you have no interest in sentiment. Without religious dogmas we could just go where the logos, and the eros hopefully, takes us. But if we did that, most people would take us for jabbering idiots.
god had a laugh and a joke when he made me. he gave me a potty mouth.
Leanne, I know you'd rather us comment on the poem. But I see absolutely nothing that I could say to improve the poem. It is what it is. So all I can say is about how it is a conversation starter. As for the originality of it, we both know how funny that is. Because people are still living in biblical times, in a great mass, so it is still a timely poem.
I put it in miscellaneous Rowen, so any comments are welcome, especially those that start conversations. Thank you for reading, gentlemen.
It could be worse
Hi Leanne,

I like this a lot. I recognise Yeats again (last spotted in a poem by rowens) and I have a wry smile throughout due to my enjoyment. I like the image of the floating deity and the instructions towards the end. In fact, a leprechaun comes to mind (I'm partly Irish), perhaps because of the whispering, which seems a little mischievous.

I'm a bit feverish and foolish with it at the moment, but I'll try to come back with some more interesting thoughts soon.

Best wishes,
Please note, I'm away at the moment because my partner is unwell and he requires a little extra TLC.
Bravo!  Had to read it a bunch of times to make sure that maybe I got it all, its thematic progression.  It does what it intends to do so well.  And your line breaks are impeccably clean, and serve to sustain the particular tonality of the poem as I read it to myself in my mind.  You're a wonderful poet, Leanne.  I really like this one.  Merry Xmas.
You can't hate me more than I hate myself.  I win.

"When the spirit of justice eloped on the wings
Of a quivering vibrato's bittersweet sting."

feedback award
I was just informed there would be no response to my original post.  My condolences to all of Leanne's friends and family.  I had looked forward to future discussions with her, and am saddened that won’t be possible.

Users browsing this thread: 1 Guest(s)
Do NOT follow this link or you will be banned from the site!