A Disclaimer of God for God

To listen to a recording of this poem

There is a dead way to think about God,
a way of oppressive connotations:
a baggage ladened, bickering,
constrictive way; a gray way,
all pinch-nosed and guilt riddled
of an angry old man in the skies,
or of three prudish guys — the status quo
we’ve institutionalized.
I would like for you to set all that aside
if you can, and consider with me a second way:
a way of glacieral freshness, of deep belly laughter,
of love’s naked longing, of star spattered vastness
and the eruptive white spume of whales —
of delirious songs of birds drunk on berries.
It is about the greatest freedom you have ever known;
the wildest abandonment in beauty!
and a light that melts you
every time you see it shine in a human eye.
It is about the repose of a rose garden
in a face you instantly love…
and the greatest fairy tale of sacrificial love come true!
It is a Voice that captures your heart forever…

Or, being electric with life — like the Wild Christ!
Shaking your head in a dance,
refusing oppressive existence,
breaking open until you are brimming with life
— being crazy with love —
spinning in wild circles, singing
for no one — not even yourself —
just because you must sing to say it
and move in it, the eternal spume,
the gurgle in the gut: drunk and giddy,
angry and blatantly sober —
snapping the chains!
Passionate and flaming,
thirsting and howling,
green and all growing,
falling and flowing,
forgiving and free —
like a river!

When I mention the God name,
please know that I’m referring
to this second, more primal way.

A Disclaimer of God for God

Blake Steele

Molkom, Sweden

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Artist's Description

*This poem is, as the title says, a disclaimer. It is the first poem in my book, Wild Sanity an attempt to clear away concepts and projections regarding the title or name, God, which has so much baggage connected to it now. I hope it expresses something of a wild passion for Life, full of mystery and wonder, teeming with the images that Life gives us, flying things, swooshing, swooping things, things that hunch and crawl.

As artists, we love what we create. If we believe there is ultimate intelligence and power behind all things that exist, then that is God… And so God can be known best by the nature of Creation itself — the Great Artist’s work. I observe a lushly sensuous Universe and here I am in a body that is capable of mind-blowing ecstasies. So how, in the name of God, have we created an image of God that is, as the poem says, pinched nosed and guilt riddled?

This is a wild cry for Life, Love and freedom to triumph over religions and every other form of human repression… but in wise ways, of course, for wild freedom alone quickly becomes chaos and plunges into the dark hole of pain.*

Artwork Comments

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