I Am God Without Hope

I am god, I am
death and the silent sky; drinking
stars like whiskey,
playing children’s games with
galaxies, singing songs of
distance and darkness, of eons and
an endless night…I am the beginning,
the end…I am the
everything
but with feet of clay
I am nothing, incomplete, I am man
reaching, searching for the edge of
knowing, being, seeing, believing—the
have-not’s and have’s—this living
without living,
this existing in crisis, these
prejudices
holding us, having us in place, in time,
we see them but do not see them
we want to not be them…so they say
it is our crisis,
a falling from a precipice, an
edge coming slowly
we don’t see it quickly; we
lose,
we don’t see it at all,
we lose…
I am god without hope
without reason
existing in the small bonds between
atoms, between people…this crisis is
spiritual, is holy,
is centered on
souls,
on chemical reactions, on synapses, on
dendrites, on the miniscule motion
of passing a thought from
nothing
to something…ideas of here and now
versus then and there, we try
fighting these destructive
preconceptions
because
they were never meant to hold,
not meant at all but there
they are, they
have become
us

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