The hope that starts, the broken hearts. You trust, you must confess; is someone getting the best, the best, the best, the best of you?

Too many times
I've said I love you,

but really, I meant,

I want to pour honey all over you
and leave you in the woods
tied to a very sturdy tree.

--Too Many Times. April Dressel.



-------------------------------------

My god is a short god. My god wears jeans.
When he swims, he has a lazy breaststroke.
When he gardens, he uses his bare hands.
My god watches reruns of late night talk shows.
My god could levitate but prefers the stairs
and if available, the fireman’s pole. My god
loves bacon. My god’s afraid of sharks.
My god thinks the only way to define a country
is with water. My god thinks eventually,
we will come around on ear candling. My god
spits chaw. My god never flosses.
My god reads Proust. My god never
graduated. He smiles when astronauts reach
zero gravity and say My god, My god.
My god is knitting one very big sweater.
My god is teaching his terrier to beg.
My god didn’t mean for icebergs. My god
didn’t mean for machetes. Sometimes
a sparrow lands in the hands of my god
and he cups it, gently. It never wants to leave
and so, it never notices that even if it tried
my god has too good a grip, my god, my god.

-- My God. Sandra Beasley.



------------------------------------------


i like that last poem, objectively. but i found myself re-writing it in my head all night.:


my god invented corn dogs as a joke.
if god could be colorblind to words, god cannot see
accidents.
god thinks we are funniest
when we are in traffic, or having sex. or both
which god has seen.
god wants to gently remind you
you were never supposed to be friends.
god is not envious of our ignorance; god is waiting for us to step up.
god created you,
but no map for me to find you.
when it rains god gets uncomfortably humid.
when it snows god reminds godself
that god doesnt understand what it feels like to doubt.
god wore havianas before you, but would let you think you did first. god
eats dessert whenever.
god appreciates cupcakes and doesn't try to question logic. god
watched klimnt and davinci with amazement. god
is happiest when suprised. and also saddest. the windows
are always rolled down in god's 1960 firebird. god likes the socratic method,
pickling, and phosphorus. god
can't wait for us to discover that thing over there. god is anxious
for us to find our own way; god knows all the answers, and all the questions,
god prefers a bicycle, god hates AM radio too, god would
impishly bet you
that god has a far more impressive organic garden than you.
god only wears pants that can have hands wiped on them, god
is lonely sometimes, when we don't seem to get it. our prayers are
gods nightmares and lullabies, god takes credit for the dimmer switch,
god has never gotten lost, ever. god thought
the pinecone would be evidence of gods love and will wait for us
to get it.
god wrists are full of noisy bracelets,
god wants us to rise, but first, to look at our own devastation
and say "what have we wrought?" god calms down by
fingerpainting and
watching the amazon, and inventing ice cream flavors. god
didn't invent allergies, but is sorry for us anyhow. god prefers spicy
and salty, god is pointing to the waves, when there
are tornadoes, god has to look away
for a moment.
our lives are too short
to live without just apologizing;
sometimes god secretly wishes god could
place a hand on the back of your neck,
right where you still have that trail of hair, and whisper
all the answers in your ear.
if god could.

dark blue, dark blue, have you ever been alone in a crowded room? when i'm here with you?

i don't know if i believe in past lives.
or any sort of weird veiled religious theories about souls, time and lives, for that matter. but i have to admit, my reaction to certain disconnected things always makes me think that maybe there is something in us that knows more than we consciously understand. certain preferences or fascinations... maybe it does all come down to neurons and science. or, maybe something else within us recognizes something from our past.

(wow, if you just survived that weird tangent, congrats.)

the reason i bring that up: when i saw this tiny article in the paper, i seriously freaked out.
(and SO tiny -- this seems like such a huge deal to me, and there it is, stuck in the back of the paper.)
i just started saying "Oh my god. Oh my god." and i wanted to run and tell someone about it. i wanted to show everyone that there was finally proof for everyone else of something that i had known was real, forever.

i mean, i guess it can't possibly be Colossus of Rhodes, which was made of iron and would have been much, much bigger. but thats what i wish it was proof of.

unlike jesus, or buddah, i have never questioned that Colossus of Rhodes existed. i remember when i learned in elementary school that it had been destroyed and never found, that maybe no evidence of it existed. i got ridiculously sad. more sad, i think, than if you told me my pet had died. really.
i know that sounds absurd.
i was shocked that it had been destroyed, i felt like it was some sort of personal offense committed against me. and then i remember the thought popped into my head: But that means... I'll never see it again. And then another voice said: Again?

maybe i'm just attached to human displays of genius and grandeur... i'm usually blown away by them, and intensely sad when i hear they've disappeared or have been destroyed. like when paintings are stolen, or when i read about ancient temples that were burned. i feel like i've lost something.

if i see the pyramids of giza, or the great wall of china, or the taj majal, nothing in the world willbe different for it. if i never saw a single one the world would still be no different for it. no record of my seeing them will really ever exist, or if one did, it could never outlast those things themselves. but still -- if i die without seeing those things... well, a little piece of me would die incomplete and disappointed.

i mean... can you imagine. FIFTEEN FEET TALL. this statue they discovered was solid marble. 15 feet tall. can you imagine what kind of city it was in? how long it stood for? how long it took to create?
the things that have existed on this earth, that might exist, the possibility.

<---- blah blah, yeah yeah, crazy crazy.