to the easy east siders

Thu, 04/25/2013 - 10:32 -- dyll

'dip shits love God'

a poem from a struggling dip shit
God of outcasts, God of love
God below and God above
He's the God of Jacob
have you even read - about their wrestle?
or've you been busy -
hating the I AM for what
I did in His
name - is like
beating your bride because
i beat her first (or slandered her or something)
i mean, maybe you should forgive ME
for misrepresenting
and what if
you're the God-breathed majesty
at the tips of his fingers
grew your mustache hairs and
gave you all the good you've ever had
you give some thought to that -
what about that
wondering-shaped hole inside your chest,
or those freewheel rebuild-needing
chug a lug motors we've got spinning
that we call minds
keepin you awake at night
rolling around your bed creating like
some CREATING like your Beginning did
(poetry), what do you think
it is
inspiring you to THAT
cause if all i am is
a sweet materialist anatomical illusion,
molecular nothing - then there's
no more truth in beauty
than there is in
a methane flavored shit,
i think .
and all your uplifting abstractions,
about the fire in my soul and
great glory starry image magical
i'm made of is
bullshit, man
if That ain't true then this,
this ain't true
& we're all gathered here with our
hearts on paper plates passing
them around the open mic
kitchen table hoping
(but i can't have Hope)
having faith in the outstretched
accepting family hand next to you
(but i can't have Faith)
we're passing around transcendental
and quiet time
and all the shit you've ever been through,
the blues,
but if we believe that Eternity is just
some fabricated right - wing
fist shaking consuming
(those mother fucking bastards)
concept false, falsified
then our little thinking heart games
are one colossal fucking loss.
you see
a reflection can't be truer than
itself and if ITSELF
for dip shits
what does that make us?
i mean think, see, know, believe
(gasp - that, well)
you came here for God!
omni all, hidden in our lines
and written on our hearts
the Breeze
every Wrinkle on a neighbors face
every sight our eyes have seen
was - what did you want to see, tonight?
you're spending a lot of time
talking about what 'doesn't exist' and
what pisses you off
then again to you the
wounded reigning steward of
that pale punctured masterpiece
you call a chest -
I'm just
another dip shit
wishing &
i'm at the Well while
you go on pretending,
and denying, and
ironically reaching through words
for truth you
say you don't believe in



I absolutely loved this poem. It sums up the struggle of having faith in a world like this, in a nutshell. Beautifully written, and excellent line breaks. Bravo.

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