I declare war.
Assemble the masses, let us rise
to heaven under cover of darkness,
rifles strapped to haggard backs,
grenades slung low round waists
There, comrade! Fire!
Do angels bleed when their father
lets them die?
If God is the God of the Bible,
I demand an audience.
Our army will burn through heaven,
making a deceiver of the God who promised
no suffering there.
Yes, we can create too.
And when the screaming angels
who have drawn their swords to us
so many times for infractions
their father created us to commit
I will reply:
“This is in the name of
The smashed tomb of my Christian
aunt, and the cancer that ate her womb,
the ripped hymen of the four year old, the gold
children dig for at gunpoint aching for water
that isn't there, the hair on my arms that stood
up when I heard the screams from my screen
of the newly homeless because wind and wave,
not sin, but wind and wave had slaughtered
their parents and this is also in the name of
the flesh eating parasite and of the blind
and the paralysed and the free will that
is not possible if God is the God of the Bible.
This is in the name of
the neutron, the atom, the proton,
the hydrogen and carbon that cobble
intricate being never seeing that they
leave no clue as to consciousness,
as to soul, that makes the whole of who we
are; of who the rapist is when he rapes, who
the thief is when he takes; the majesty
of the ocean and the horrors that feast on
tiny shoals who know no other purpose
to this life than to swim away, swim away!
Then die, chewed in the maw of that which
terrified them since birth. This is for mirth
that can only be known through the comparison
of sorrow and comfort that only shows its
sweet relief after fear. You hear me God?
You hear? Face your creation
and tell us it was no mistake. For this is in the name
of all that makes us ache and sob whether we
keep the faith or not.
Take your best shot, Father, take it now”.
And God shows Himself.
And there before him,
in spite of myself.
And I weep.
I weep the tears of a million lost souls,
knowing that all are mine.
I see what I can never comprehend
and I know why.
He reaches down to
clasp my face in His hands
and I gaze up at Him,
the tears and the snot and the salt
upon my lips
and I say
“But you knew, you bastard.
All along, you knew”.