Instead of killing myself today, I went to see God.
He laughed his friendly laugh, in that German accent he likes to affect,
and kissed my cheek.
I sang to stained glass windows while you all worshipped flowers,
and beans,
and exorcisms.
My lips were freshly scrubbed clean,
(stained Shiraz)
and they beckoned God until He came and sat upon them with delight.
He told me that you were Jesus,
and
I stared and stared at Him
until it was true.
“Remember me!” Jesus said, wine on his lips,
to his gathered prostitutes and homeless crackheads,
“eat my body and drink my blood with every meal,
make me immortal,
I am resurrection!”
And we do, because his disciples, or his Lost Boys, or his fanatics
wrote it down.
You really should read
the New Testament,
mi amor,
you were there,
after all.
Im so in awe with your writing, i wanna fucking cry.
oh my god. i can’t lie and say that’s not the best thing you could say. cry, and then laugh.
I will, doll face. I will.
Relief here. You had me quite apprehensive. I can only help you by reading. You surely help me by writing.
“And we do, because his disciples, or his Lost Boys, or his fanatics
wrote it down.” Must be true right? Cuz someone said so….. Loved this thoroughly!
Oh, wow. Yes! Love the line about God on your lips.
Fabulous again, wonderful angst – delightful nuance, and yet, I’m pretty sure your Belief is damn strong.
I love the way you have written this!
Although part of me feels that I should apologize because, despite having picked up on some more serious tones (from some of the other comments and your responses) I couldn’t help but find this piece willfully playful. As if ‘the son of God’ has forgotten who he is/was and you are reminding him and calling him back to his duty.
Who knows? Perhaps he could have forgotten, in our modern world which I/We assume to be so much more full of sin than the World of old – maybe simply because there are more of us in it?! Then you come along and speak with his father, then almost dare him to read ‘his book’ and remember who he was. To ‘wake up’ from whatever dreamy haze or nightmare he has been living in and to (hopefully) start to do his good work again (if he ever stopped).
Thank you shrinkydinks
– and please take that as ‘cute’ rather than purile 😉
I hope that God (if this is the case) continues to talk to you and vice versa, and that this serves to reinforce and reinvigorate you in positive ways. 🙂
Peace always ❤
Yes, and I popped Mary’s cherry on the way out. They didn’t even write about me until two hundred years after I “died”! Some disciples! At least Judas followed through with my request.
Yeah, well, they had to change a lot of your crazy shit into stuff they could control the crowds with…
I was far from a pacifist! I said turn the other cheek an let your enemy see you laugh in your own pain, It was masochistic in nature. Pain in pleasure and vice versa.
hell ye 🙂
i was there 😉
i was there around the campfires,
chilling with the romans, denying The Main Man,
when some Cock crowed three times, grassing me up.
Breathtaking. I love this poem.
I was getting kinda worried there for a while.. The last post sounded like the last post
it could have been.
Where else could I go to get my brain tied in knots on a daily basis?
http://echoesfromthebowels.wordpress.com/
try there to forget about me ; )
Nah, too obvious.. 😀
all morning holding breath
one day…
lo siento.