"Another Two Poems from Fred Houpt"

Another Two Poems from Fred Houpt

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God's Poem

Having temporarily reversed the telescope
You look so much smaller now
So I gleefully leap into Your BIG chair
Looking down on You, for just this moment

The angels, Your comforters when things go sour
Are reminding me that You expect forgiveness
To be spread around like so much finely ground star dust
Does the day forgive the night for ending its dominance?

You know, from here, all those nodding, bowing heads
Look like lovely obedient flowers, swaying like waves.
Is this really what you see when Your children supplicate,
Rendering unto God what they will not give to each other?

Yet it is our belief that You hear all the voices
Slicing through the chasms of empty space, filling voids
With infinite chatter, often contradictory, asking for and
Expecting Your attention to the long lists of demands

I will not pretend to know how you pull it off, the measure
Of Your abilities is already on display in creation.
"Emulate God's ways," the old tell the young, but what lessons
Can be taught of Krishna's war, Christ's cross or the Shoah?

Though the evidence for Your abundance and generosity
Is tied up in the transcendent wake, just behind the surface
I will extend towards the Almighty words of forgiveness
Though this will surely upset all the traditional beliefs

Forgiven is God for having pushed Creation out stillborn.
Forgiven is God for having hesitated after creating man
Only to remember that one sex will not procreate, then
Littering their home with poisoned fruit and forbidden trees

Forgiven is God for having spoken to few the words of the way
Ignoring the impact that a cold shoulder has on the rest of us
Forgiven is God for having created the Beast of Light then
Spending an eternity pinning His presence on our actions

Forgiven is God for having revealed so much to so few
In languages that were immediately misunderstood before
The ink or clay was dry. The task of teaching so onerous
That God Himself could not bear the burden.

Forgiven is God for knowledge that sank into mud
So thick that no trowel, spade or stick can reach
Histories created by His children so perverse that we
All believe that God had abandoned us out of disgust.

Forgiven is God for having created the splintered mind,
So much like His light, once whole and entire, now
Shattered, remote, broken, cracked and sparked.
All about the dark forest each piece is unknown to the next

Forgiven is God for having made promises to listen
Not telling us that they were made only to that part
Of our mind not currently awake, taking His attention
Straight to the hidden, the part that runs with the wolves

Forgiven is God for having made a pact with unconscious
Intent that never speaks without clutching the hidden agenda
God says that here is the grain and prayers the villain of flow.
It is here that God's ear is most finely attuned to sublime intent.

Forgiven is God for having encouraged us to pray, no matter
The secret deals with the darkest caves that we do not know.
Would we be so willing to sway our heads and cry our eyes
If knowing that we could never overtake the other mind?

Forgiven is God for having encouraged us to carry on the façade
Sending endless waves of prayer to the brightest of shores
Keeping the angels well amused and well employed, though
The folly of our efforts are frozen in the domain of belief

Forgiven is God for having allowed us to have unconscious paths
Though we make them in ways that defy the gravity of our wisdom
Still, God let's us fly upside down if it makes us happy, letting us
Sabotage every fervent supplication with unseen instruction

Forgiven is God for ignoring the prayers I have made
That have gone out and never returned. I do not know
If they evaporated before they reached the target or a louder
Light suddenly turned His attention away from the delivery?

Forgiven is God for having created hope, relationships of love,
Families that cling together and legacies that we try to pass on
Now we are expected to understand how this has been given to the axe
The blade and bomb, from those who invoke you with greater fury.

Forgiven is God who could not withstand the opportunity to create
The parallel, the opposite, the shadow and the other.
For hope holds disappointment in its hands as surely as love
Murders hate in its jealous dance of possession by degrees

Forgiven is God who relished in His ability to create duality
When a singularity would have sufficed. Black holes are now
The sole domain of that point of creation that could have been,
Though that point now provides a powerful exit for all His things

Forgiven is God who created Holy Days, a few still congregate
To cast their voices on to the giant conveyor belt of suffrage
Where so many more have ceased to take this practice seriously.
A multitude of wings suddenly lift off and head in search of Zion.

Forgiven is God who shouted down from the mountain, tell them
I want to see celebrations and merriment and bread and wine.
He created no space in the rigidness of dogma for the hateful
Heart, with no alternative but to rage into a vacuum of order

Forgiven is God for having cast me on this rudderless flotsam
Crushed with all those blessings I was told He had sent.
Forgiven is He who can do anything and be anything, except that is,
To be like me, too small to be noticed at the usual end of the telescope

Father and Son
      (for Rav Shalom of blessed memory)

Two men shuffle
sandled dusty feet
beside the donkey
who masticates the goldenrod stems
lazy and slow

It is sunrise.

After staring at the departing figures
Two shimmering hooded clouds
wafting along the sandy pavement,
One said, "must we wait here all day in the heat?"

The animal turned his eyes to the voice
Dispatching the knowing look of an Egyptian deity
The men knew the day was to be less defined
by the circle of their posture
than by the angles of ascent

Two men shuffle and soon are lying
under and against the beast
whose burden has become their shade

"My wife hates me," says the older
"Who cares?" the other
"I'm itchy," the first
"Sleepy, sleepy," the second

The munching animal dreams of a specific tribal shaman
that had shown such physical favors
He, famous in all Tzippor.

The vultures venture
The men go back to sleep
The brook has dripped its last
The ram approaches a thicket

A hairy arm slashes the air
with the deadly sharp blade
And a voice calls out from above.

Poems © 2002 Fred Houpt, all rights reserved
appear here by permission

Author Notes

"God's Poem"
           With this type of poem I could keep on writing verses until I've reached a Byronic level. Not that I'm anywhere in the same league as the great beauty. I am somewhat uncertain about the poem insofar as it was such a stream of consciousness affair. I did labor quite a bit over it but I could not see the bottom or even the sides for it's volume. So, I rather abruptly put an end to the verses. Who knows, maybe one day I'll add more to them. I am quite happy with a few lines that came to mind, there are some strong verses. I especially enjoyed the vivid childlike attitude that I present as the central emotional level. These ideas come from a very broken and darkly hurting place within myself so it is somewhat autobiographical. It does speak directly from a profound struggle to re-calibrate my own beliefs, especially who I think God is and what role He plays in my karma. There are probably more such poems in me and I'll appreciate your kind feedback as the process continues.
"Father and Son "
           I was on the subway going home from work and was busy reading poems by Machado and Neruda (always a joy) and all of a sudden I saw the images float up in my mind. I turned over one of the sheets of poems I had been reading and started writing. In a few minutes I had the poem finished. It is about the sacrifice of Isaac. I have played around with certain Biblical references that are borrowed and inserted. However, the main story is accurate.

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