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

in oxford

camus – in paris

zjg – in weidling nö.

blocks of granite chiselled to

turn stone into perfect pharaohs

man or woman into god or

marbled goddess.

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

yet survival.

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.



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