Deus Mortuus -=-

Deus mortuus. God
is not dead
because I say
he is, nor does he live
because you say
he lives.

Deus mortuus
because,
sure as you and I
slew the body nailed
to the wood of the olive
in the place of the skull
that is called Gol'gotha
two thousand years ago,
you and I
slowly slew the harder,
greater, more glorious
and beautiful substance
that was God these past
intervening
years.

The mind, the idea,
these
are God, and these
are the things we have slain
daily through covetousness,
through avarice, and through
a million other
human
pettinesses.

Deus mortuus and we
slew him by forcing
a thousand dictates
on who,
how, when, why,
and where
a man may believe.

Deus mortuus and we
slew him by putting
faith in a false
priesthood of politicians
masquerading
as clerics, and we
slew him by twisting
his words to our
desires.

Deus mortuus and we
slew him by claiming
he needs intermediaries
to define who deserves
and who does not deserve
to have principles applied
intended to be applied
to all, by all.

Deus mortuus and liquid
fire - weepings fallen
from heaven-bound
angelic cheek - frozen
by two thousand years
of man's jealousies,
indifferences, and hatreds
hiss earthwards to clink
and clatter amid shadowed
root and mud tonight.

_{(February 22, 2011 18:03 - 19:14)}