God Vs. WOMD: Ch 1: God is shit and sugar





There are many ways to say this but the message cannot change.
Many will reject it as peculiar and strange.
‘Strange’ makes people frown; makes them question where to go.
It asks them to consider all the things they do not know.
 
God has been abandoned through the twisting of the Bible.
And many have decided that it’s better to be tribal.
Dog eat dog and cat eat cat.  There is no holy saviour.
In order to survive we must exhibit cruel behaviour.
 
They think this life is all there is; beyond there’s just a void,
And when we die the person that we were will be destroyed.
So grab the things you need for now, the things you’ll need for later.
No one’s looking after us.  There isn’t a creator.
 
Some believe quiet differently that God’s an awesome guy,
That he watches and rewards us from his home beyond the sky;
That Heaven is a place that only certain souls can find;
That the rest of us are damned because we’re sinners and we’re blind.
 
But whether you’re a Catholic, a Protestant or Jew,
Or a Buddhist, or a Hindu or a soul without a clue,
God is not a vessel for the prayers of your agenda.
God is like a mirror – every prayer reflects the sender:
 
God is your reflection in the world you see and feel.
God is everyone you meet. That’s what makes it ‘real’.
God is not reserved for the biblical believer,
Though some may say this poem is the work of a deceiver.
 
God is simply everything from subtle to extreme –
Famine, war and paradise; reality and dream;
God is rich and poor alike.  God is dull and bright.
God is in the darkest places.  God is in the light.
 
God is in the monastery, the brothel and the bank.
God is in the military, driving every tank.
God is in the money that’s extorted from the poor,
And waiting on the other side of every single door.
 
We wrestle with this truth for though it’s simple and complete
How can God, the saviour, be the sinner on the street?
How can God be cruelty?  How can God be lies?
How can God be bombs that drop from blood-red war-torn skies?
 
Are you ready for the truth: simple clean and pure?
Do you still carry hatred?  Are you ready for a cure?
Can you forgive the people that have wronged you in your life?
The bank that took your house away?  Your violent ex-wife?
 
The man that beat your teeth in when he’d had too much to drink.
The ones that said ‘your paki nigger faggot armpits stink’?
If you are not ready to forgive then stop right here:
This truth won’t set you free.  It will magnify your fear.
 
If you think your way of thinking’s better than the others,
Then you’re still passing judgement on your sisters and your brothers.
The truth will, thus, expose you to yourself.  You cannot hide
From the mirror that reflects the pain you carry deep inside.
 
But when your pain is great; when your wounds are very deep,
Your memories are things that you, perhaps, don’t wish to keep.
You’d like to leave the broken you behind in yesterday.
You do not look behind you and you walk the other way.
 
But who you were is who you are.  Your suffering is you.
You’re vulnerable and precious.  Do you know that this is true?
Perhaps you were abused by your father or your mother.
Maybe you’re an orphan and you have no loving other.
 
Maybe you’re an addict or a glutton or a thief.
Maybe someone told you that you’re rotten underneath.
All these things are gifts that have made you who you are.
It’s time for you to see it – you have come so very far.
 
The truth is underfoot.  You are brilliant and bright.
Your suffering, the key that can release you from your fight.
You do not have to change.  Your imperfections make you you.
And, why this is important, I’ll explain in chapter two.
 
31st October 2011 © Simon Welsh Poetry
 
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