In a message dated 2/26/02 3:07:45 PM, [log in to unmask] writes:
<< JESUS
I haven't forgiven Jesus [great opening line]
(though he's forgiven me) [do you need to tell the reader this?]
for frightening me as a child
making me stoop on bended knee
not to the great wide universe
but to a narrow god,
routing the bright plurality
for one cussed despot.
Nor for my hair being cut so short,
my dresses sober black and grey,
for hanging on a dirty cross
when I desired to dance and play
for taking credit for the flowers
and lovely things that still crept in
to the universe he occupied
with so much thought of sin,
for taking in my parents
whose fault I think it wasn't
(because I loved them more than him).
He loves me? No he doesn't -
he wants me in his hockey team [why hockey team?]
he wants me on his side,
he wants me to get up and say
it was for me he died.
I never heard such utter rot,
I never heard such pish.
The words that spring at once to mind
are 'bicycle' and 'fish'. [don't get this]
I don't want his forgiveness
and I don't admire his god. [maybe this instead of his?]
I'd rather think that everything
just happened out of mud.
And he if ever listened
to what stared him in the face,
he'd stop saying he'd forgiven me
and just get off my case. >> [as in free will?]
Nice angry poem...thank you.
kol tuv, Ryfkah
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