I understand how religion cuts
tell a boy to eat a crumb
he may not want to
Stomp his hand until he eats
Tell a teenage girl to Not
go out, slap her, point your
pathetic fat finger in her face.
Tell a man how to walk
like the rest of the sheep.
We listen to crumbs fall and care about where they land
more than we care about the voices that caress us at night. Put a hat on a man facing a jury he’s aligned with. Stitch his mouth. The hat has spoken and the willing jury stands in approval. A funny thing happens with truth. We haven’t found the end of it yet.
Fuck your crumbs and let’s listen to non-speech with a hat until the fucking hat starts talking while your crumbs fall out of your pockets looking for work. Isn’t this a nice thing. Isn’t this such a nice fucking thing. A man once rode a ride into death on a cross.
I do wonder what he thought about a crumb. I’d like to save that man.
“People sleep peacefully in their bed at night, only because rough men stand ready to do violence on their behalf.” – George Orwell
My wife emailed me this quote. ‘This is you! ;)’ she wrote.
It’s a shame, we humans, have such disdain for one another. Yet, we also love one another. To a point. I’ve known families which started out loving and have watched them turn to hate and shred themselves.
Does it need to be like this? Yes. And No. Take a look at the news. I find religion uncomfortably fascinating. I guess I always have. I’m on the outside looking in. I have my own beliefs and I dislike the hate between the many different sides. I welcome all religion. If any one religion doesn’t welcome me, I can always turn to the quote if needed.
How do I know when I’m dreaming of God-
Is it when I see the world from above-
Each country border never showing
Even favorite states are only known by remembered landmarks-
Ocean waves lapping coasts – White clouds covering both land and view
I’m unsure if it’s when I dream of faces I do not know-
They come to me – in a glimpse I see their hurt or happiness-
Crevassed faces – or white polished smiles of beautiful people-
Angry shocking images not belonging to me
Then I dream of a child playing in a field- having found a grasshopper-
The child’s siblings run through the tall grass calling to catch them-
Sunlight bounces from their hair and all the grass and all the everything I can see-
I ask my son to dream of God.
I do this often as I rock him to sleep – telling him God is the best thing to dream of-
That I know some – but not enough-
I ask God to help him sleep well – I ask God to show himself to him-
So he might know him – that even if he asks in a dream that it’s more than I can give-
Though I give my heart – My thoughts – My true self-
If I cannot understand when I dream of God-
I am not so full of me to not realize I’m not enough
And this I believe: that the free, exploring mind of the individual human is the most valuable thing in the world. And this I would fight for: the freedom of the mind to take any direction it wishes, undirected. And this I mist fight against: any idea, religion, or government which limits or destroys the individual. This is what I am and what I am about. I can understand why a system built on a pattern must try to destroy the free mind, for that is one thing which can by inspection destroy such a system. Surely I can understand this, and I hate it and I will fight against it to preserve the one thing that separates us from the uncreative beasts. If the glory can be killed, we are lost. – John Steinbeck. East of Eden.
I found this to be the most powerful paragraph in the book. Much later in the book he followed this thought up with-
Can you think that whatever made us –would stop trying?
Some writers write to re-read their own words. Others write humbly then hope and pray another will find them useful. I find Steinbeck’s words most useful and I wish I could shake his hand.
It starts one note at a time. Soon, if you pick the truest path, you have a masterpiece. I think the broken humanity we live in has lost its ability to choose truly. We become angry and destroy our own family members with words and sometimes with violence. Then we walk the streets and continue creating more imperfect notes and it spreads through our town and further. In my opinion it’s impossible to not see the divide that’s among us. And yet we blame it on anything other than ourselves without feeling the necessary humility of responsibility through reflection. I don’t feel our leadership can fix it. I don’t feel our government knows even where to begin. I don’t think our churches can fix it. They are at war with one another. They compete for your money and call it belief and are unable to accept differing beliefs without furthering the divide. I do have hope though. To find one true note for myself. I think it’s best to start with me. If I can create my best version then it’s possible to look beyond. To my wife, my son. In my opinion it starts at home. It isn’t about what our leaders might do for us. It never was. They are not in your home nor or in your mind unless you let them be. You are there alone. It’s up to you to choose truly. And maybe then we’ll be on to something.
It goes over most. The wall is so tall, so very tall. Brotherhood isn’t only a word it’s especially not. The wall isn’t so tall to not topple, yet we don’t let one another see past it. Stone mixed with cement and more sand and water builds deeper in our minds than the construction. Some though, harness their everything and see through without ever climbing.
It was the longest stairway. Its length ran from the sky to lower than the ground. Constructed of granite; its origin is unkown. We descended, lower than the clouds. Here we found the steps now hung ragged; we were alone. We could no longer be lead lower than the ground. We asked the wind, ‘How do we reach our place?’ The wind howled and crumbled more of our footing.
An angel stood on my shoulder and told me to blush. I said no. I don’t need to blush. The angel told me that was a sin. The angel told me most what I do is a sin and I wondered why I bothered to try. October found me while I walked along leaves. The leaves crunched as I walked. I wondered if stepping on them was a sin.