God of Public Stanzas

God was rather mean, interjecting in today’s poem, “I will not be there when you need me / next, because you could not follow my lines” – and it was true I did not write down the words and phrases He/She was attempting to feed to me, but this spiteful God that is more of a eye-for-an-eye “if you do not do what I tell you, I will abandon you,” is not the God I have come to know. True, this is the God that Earth knows from the Abrahamic religions and true, the world is in a condition of the collective will of the Abrahamic religions’s God, but who I had the fortune of meeting was so above such nonsense.

Is God attempting to demonstrate our fragile alliance? It is true that I have not been looking for Her/Him. I got the impression that She/He had left, though I felt it was temporary. I am too old and too experienced to seek out and make myself something of an ascetic to get God’s attention. That is bad religion. I learned that from the self-punishment of my youth. I touched on the subject all the way back in June of 2023 after a rather uncomfortable and intense transcendental heightening,

I wanted to argue that a heightened state of awareness is the wrong experience to have move forward with contributing to improving societies and creating a better future. The vestiges of the ascetic should never be encouraged when instead we could be working on education reform.

There is no scope of knowledge from transcendental experiences cannot otherwise be taught.

Either a) God has some nerve approaching me with “tough lessons” to learn like the last 30 years didn’t happen

Or b) God is finding a roundabout way of telling me something is coming, but it doesn’t seem like me personally, but on the scope of the ever-evolving intra-community sense.

After all, God being God knew I would write about this publicly.

Then again, I am reminded of this very short recent “poem” that came to me in something more of a “vision”:

Thus Spoke the Unnamed, Unknown God

As translated by Richard J Tilley

Sacrilegious poet
Now is your time to die