where is god? the poet asks
no satisfactory answers from
intellectuals/ artists/ models/
folk – impossible to ever receive
ending in absurdity.
does god want us to suffer?
c s lewis already extended on it
camus – in paris
zjg – in weidling nö.
blocks of granite chiselled to
turn stone into perfect pharaohs
man or woman into god or
she comes/ she cleans/
she swears/ she leaves.
were you once hurt deeply?
when mom’ married my dad’s
brother/ but then I didn’t grasp
what drives me out of this
imprisonment of a bedsitter?
it’s suffering from her verbal abuse
meant to counteract pain she
suffers/ it’s not a personal attack.
this ’s love’s many shades?
at one time she looked golden
gilded by a life-spending sun
warming her elongated back
iced by living in these shadows
of a bitter northern land.
is pain part of a distant
happiness lived in the warm
sand of samos?
god might have chiselled the stone
we come from and with every blow
inflicted pain for making us perfect
but we still are far away from that.
the small bit left for perfection/
a big innocent canvas is set aside for
a human being’s creativity –
thus’ art evolved.
art is love
love entails pain.