What if God was a Cat?

If God turned out to be a cat
What would you make of that?
Would you ask forgiveness for all the times that
you hadn't been kind to cats?

If God turned out to be a turkey
Would you be feeling quite so chirpy
Eating God's only son on his birthday?

If God turned out to be a fox
It wouldn't look too good for toffs
On judgement day

If God is karma, this would bring
Kindness, love and understanding
An end to suffering
So maybe God is everything
Sentient...remembering


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Quite a co-incidence
I wrote this poem the day of the passing
of Christopher Hitchens

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Starlight Groove

Ancient instant light
Catapult from then to now
Ka-Pow!!!
Ping
Sing
Attentive moves
Concentration
Attention
Removes
Ignorance
For a dance
An  Entrance
eyes said be
mine A glance
Entranced

Future cosmic energy
Comes back advanced
Dispels all apathy
Get up, get on up
Like a dream
Like a love machine

Thrilled to be part of the cast of
Happenstance and Empathy

You look like you should be
Hanging in the Louvre
I love your Starlight Groove

Secrets Yet Untold

whispers winters dark

is snow and gold

the snowflake kiss

of memory silver

and secrets yet untold

the leaping heart

from out of earthly ice

and eyes that steal the soul

the sparkling sound

a love thats bound to tingle and enfold

and to entice

oh whispering winter magic

casting fractured patterns o'er icy pools

at which the starved bird sips

to gaze upon the frozen golden rose

the one that winter gently

places on your lips

lovers never heed the day

just rapt and wrapped in wondrous warm

entangled in a snowflake kiss

protected from the storm

and whisper in the winters dark

of memory white and gold

in keeping with the silver night

and secrets yet untold

Poets Float

Blessed with cerebral riches
Drowned as witches
But poets float

Words like petals floating on the breeze
So uncontrolled
They taunt and tease
The status quo

Float like butterflies
Sting like bees
A poet can't be bought or sold

Never given thanks
Made to walk gangplanks
But poets float

The poet's sensitivity
floats on to infinity
original thoughts
create the future and eternity

Your words
Like a saviour boat
On raging seas
In a storm
I feel reborn
For poets float
Happy birthday Heathcote




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Heathcote Williams - British Poet, Actor, Playwright, Director and Artist
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Heathcote_Williams

the flowers that be

we are the flowers

that will lead you

straight to the heart

and the mind of God
we are the butterfly

creation of God's art

roses - whether a single one
the beautiful two

or a bunch of dozens
vermillion leaves on the ground

are our autumn cousins

walk past flowers silent

but they're screaming out

their joy to be alive

unlike people

flowers never lie

endless colour infiltrated bliss

with every change of the light

dance fragrance everlasting like God's kiss

absorbing the day

embracing the might of the stars at night

flowers aren't like guns or swords
they don't want to kill you
flowers aren't like the glance
in human eyes
they can't desert or judge or despise you
but when you look at them
they might create a fantasy for you

we're universe

we are the flowers

dont mind us

we're just an element of fractal expression

of God's dreaming

we just exist
as long as there's sunshine

earth and air and showers

"the human beings, my pet species

killed my dreams with ingratitude" said Gaia

"but flowers are my love,
theyre never rude

they never let me down -
they are

my soul's fire"

CAIRO!

Instance a twirling magic of starlit night

And then, on the way to a party - a ride

on a cart pulled by a donkey

Interfusion something

so unlike

a pyramid system

at street level

or a dusty track in the countryside

The explosion of scent of jasmine and

a Larry Olivier voice booming

out into the night at the Sound and

dreamy golden purple Light

Lost in inner city wild bazaar

at midnight alone

felt like an initiation, being born

Heart beat drum beat

Trapped in a beast

Feast for the sunrise

Triangles at dawn

Giggling looking at Adolf Churchills room

Theyre all the same, they all want to make a

City of the dead,
but this city, my eternal love affair

alone in a crypt with a tomb and a female voice in my ear said “Claire”

I looked around and - there was nobody there

But it sounded sweet and it felt so wise...

A polluted forest of exotic concrete

Drowning in warm brown eyes

Diving through the UniVerse

I saw a stark tree
with bright red berries on it
and the sun fell right on it
and I knew then in my heart of hearts
that yes, there is a God of sorts
prowling through the universe

the blooms are coming up too soon
too soon to feel
and down dark lanes
a shaft of sun
on frozen rooftops starts
and I knew then in my heart of hearts
that there really is a God ofcourse
diving through the universe

Oxford, 29th January 1989