March 2, 2023

HEAVEN MUST WAIT

He said he sent God an email
but got no response until, after three days,
he got a bounce back saying the account
had been closed for lack of payment.
A few hours on the internet yielded
a heavenly website, and after another hour
digging down into the site map, he found
a tiny hot link to the Contact Us page,
and there a phone number he
immediately called. What could be better
than asking God directly, he figured.
He should have known better, and did
when on the third ring the phone was answered
and the recording began, “For Jewish, Press 1;
for Catholic and most Protestants, Press 2;
for Muslims, Press 3; For atheists
and non-believers, Press 4.
He pressed two and was told the office
was only open for calls on Sunday from 6 AM
until noon, and occasional Saturday afternoons.
Unsatisfied he called back, pressed 1 and learned
the phone would only be answered Friday night or
Saturday, though he doubted anyone worked then.
He tried 4 on the next call and was transferred
to a line that seemed to be answered in Norwegian
by someone who he thought said was in the branch
office in Stjordal in Nord-Trondelag.
The afternoon was growing short
and he realized he didn’t really care
about the answer, wasn’t sure
he’d believe it anyway.

First appeared in Dipity Online Literary, February 2023
https://www.vevnaforrow.com/post/heaven-must-wait-by-louis-faber
NOTE: Jazz K, the editor did an amazing job with her treatment of the poem. It is worth a visit for that alone.

March 1, 2023

TIDY

It was simple by definition
a neat orderly universe, but then
a Big Bang and all of the planning
went out in a monumental flash.

He could easily have corrected it
a simple thought would have
done the trick, but He made the rules
so He had no choice but to abide by them.

It was truly a godly mess, He
would be the first to admit it
had there been anyone to whom
He might admit it, but that lot

on Olympus were a poor joke,
and had long since ceased
to serve any purpose at all
save taking up library space.

So things were banged about, things
blew up spectacularly, things
disappeared entirely, and he
was left to practice meditation.

February 14, 2023

UNKNOWABLE

How often have we
sat in pews, on the zafu
and heard an enrobed
man or woman say
“Let me describe for you”
that which cannot be
described, that which
is beyond mere words.

We would be better served
to just sit in silence
and hear deeply what
we need, not empty words
meant to lead, to mislead,
for you God does not speak
and you cannot claim to be
enlightened, for both
are delusion, but both
can be experienced if only
you look deeply within.

January 3, 2023

WHY NOT AN ELEVENTH?

The internet, he said, was God’s gift to Satan, but Satan returned it within the warranty period since it didn’t bring him nearly as much business as he had hoped. That, and the broadband in Hell was iffy most of the time, something about the heat, like broadband in Florida in the summer, only worse. God didn’t particularly want it, so he gave it to humans, figuring one more plague might keep them from begging for all manner of selfish things.

December 25, 2022

RETURN

He arrived today
although none saw him coming.
He had been here before,
been quickly ignored,
despite his pleas and prayers,
they twisted his words
to suit their venal desires,
his message forever lost in translation.
They were not ready,
and in their hate fueled world,
they might never be.

December 4, 2022

ASKING

Asking saints to intercede
is something quite new to me,
having never considered that saints
were people whom I might seek out.

I’ve started carefully, only
seeking saints who hang
on my family tree, Margaret,
Itta, Begga, Adela, Arnulf,

and I’ve vowed to ask nothing
for myself, for karma will
see to me one way or another,
so I ask only for those in need.

I don’t know if the saints
will respond, or how I would
know if they did, but my wife says
that prayer never hurts,

and I cannot argue with that.

November 22, 2022

WE WANT, AGAIN

We want to cry out,
but we have no words.

We want to scream
but all we give is silence.

We want to curse the invader
but cannot be heard
over the tanks, bombs
and rockets.

We want to mourn
but there are so many
innocents, where
do we begin?

We want to act,
but we are incapable
and can offer
only silent prayer.

November 17, 2022

ODE TO THE HOUSE CAT

I have concluded that God created the cat
in a moment of exhaustion or of extreme pique.
How else to explain such a soft fur covered creature
capable at once of a gentle caress and a claw
lunging out at a hand or face deemed too close.
Why else this projectile constantly launched
only at those places it was not to be,
fine wood tables etched with reminders
of its sudden presence and rapid departure.
What else to explain this shedding ball
of multihued fur that always curls in sleep
in the one place you wish to sit
and even when it cedes a seat to you, smirks
in the realization you will soon
an unexpectedly be half covered in fur.
Why this package of fluff and terror crawls
beneath your blanket as you verge on sleep
curls tightly against you and begins its gentle
rhythmic purring that draws you deeply
into a world of fur filled dreams.

First Published in ZOOANTHOLOGY, Sweetycat Press, August 2022

November 10, 2022

THE SAINT OF UNCOUNTED NAMES

A desert again,
always a desert
and she the saint
of uncounted names,
her crying eases, no
smile appears for this
Madonna of the coyotes,
her orange-orbed eyes
shuttered against the
slowly retreating sun.
Once her tears watered
the desert sands, mixed
with the blood of a Christ
now long forgotten, trans-
substantiated into a spirit
we formed in our image,
no longer we in his.
The Blessed Mother
watches, holding hope,
holding space, holding
a serenity we cannot
fathom in our search
for divine justification.
She remembers, she mourns,
for what ought to be, and waits
for the windwalkers
to pull the blanket
of stars over her.