Bobbi (roguechick) wrote,

  • Mood:

I'm alive!

I really hate computers right now, or is it Microsoft. I am not really sure. I decided to reformat my new computer, but my first install was bad, as is the second. I will be refomatting again Monday, but I thought I better write something.

I also heard a really nice poem Saturday. I was watching "Stan Lee's Mutants, Monsters and Marvel", and one of the extras was a poem Stan had written over 30 years ago. It took me awhile to get it down because it was just audio, so I had to transcribe it. Its really long. Takes about 10 minutes for him to recite it.

God Woke by Stan Lee

God woke,
He stretched and yawned and looked around
Haunted by a thought unfound
A vagrant thought that would not die
He rose and scanned the endless sky
He probed the is, he traced the was,
He sought the yet to be
And then he found the planet Earth
The half remembered planet Earth
Steeped in pain and tragedy
And all at once, he knew
He saw the world that he had wrought to suit his master plan
And then he saw the changes brought by the heedless hand of man
Man, so frail, so small, yet lord of all
Striving, thriving, hustling, bustling, sowing, growing
Ever going, ever learning, never knowing
Less than righteous, less than just
And in the end condemned to dust
He heard the man sounds everywhere
The shots, the clangs, the roars, the bangs
The clatter, clammer, guns, and hammer
And then he found to his despair
The haunting hollow sounds of prayer
A billion bodies ever bending
A billion voices never ending
Give me, get me, grant me, let me
Love me, free me, hear me, see me
While he pondered, watched, and waited
Endlessly they supplicated
Chanting, ranting, moaning, groaning
Sighing, crying, cheating, lying
But towards what goal
What grand direction this pious tide of genuflection
To please their Lord, to please their God
He raised his head and laughed, laughed hard
At man the enigma calling for aid, ever demanding, ever afraid
Man the enigma bewailing his fate
Yet plagued by inaction till ever to late
Paradoxical man, so fearful of death
Yet squandering life and lavishing breath
Wasting his hours, diluting his days,
Accomplishing nothing, while he prays and he prays
Hypocritical man, pompous and preening
Mouthing his rote, just from the throat
Words without feeling, sound without meaning
Such arrogance, such gross conceit
To think ones self somehow elite
To demand each prayer be heard with care
While painfully, vainfully all unaware
Ones omnipotent, infinite, absolute lord is bored
God frowned, how dare they believe that the way and the light
Can be constantly badgered from morning till night
By what senseless standard, by what senseless rule
Do they treat their creator as if he's their tool
While proclaiming his glory do they think him a fool
Who else but a fool with a cosmos to savor
Would be bound just to Earth granting boon, granting favor
Who else but a fool with a cosmos unfolding
Would linger with man ever praising and scolding
Who else but a fool with a cosmos to stray in
Would conceive him an anthill and like a prisoner stay in
Who else but a fool would create mortal men
And then be expected to tend them, mend them, cry for them
Die for them, over and over and over again
God sighed,
I gave them minds as I recall, it was all so long ago
I gave them minds that they might use to choose, to think, to know
For the hapless weak must needs be wise
If they would prove their worth
And then I gave them paradise
The fertile, verdant Earth
At first I found the plan was sound, and somewhat entertaining
But once begun, the deed now done, my interest started waning
The seed thus sown, the twig now grown
I left them there there alone, alone
Among the planets and the stars and the endless, fathomless hole
Alone, bathed by light and clothed by dark
Midst the vague and the vast and the small, alone
Alone as I have ever been as I shall ever be
Why do they not accept it, how else can they be free
Why do they not except it, why do they search for me
Why, when their own little lives are barren and brief
When all of their pleasures are tarnished by grief
In a space of a heartbeat, their present is past
The cling to each moment, but no moment can last
When the end comes so quickly and they soon are forgot
Why do they search for that which is not
Like unto children lost in the night
They search for a God to guide them
Like unto children huddled in fright
They must have their God beside them
But what sort of children from cradle to grave
Would grant him obeisance and yet make him their slave
They have conjured a heaven, and there he must stay
Ever responsive, be it night, be it day
He must love and forgive them, and comply when they pray
Ever attentive, never to stray
And like unto children in their childish zeal
They worship their dream thinking fantasy, real
God pondered,
He the be all, the end all, the will, and the way
The power, the glory, the night and the day
The word and the law, the fount and the plan
Lord, God almighty was baffled by man
He was puzzled by the paradox, by the irony therein
If only he could show them, but where would he begin
How to make them understand, how to make them see
How to make them recognize their own insanity
They live for gain, and they strive in vain to circumvent their death
But all their gold and wealth untold, won't buy an extra breath
They bestow a claim, and they shower fame on those who rise to power
But those that care, who love and share, are forgot within the hour
They're prone to fight, to use their might for whatever flag they cherish
But those who cry "to arms" don't die, their young are sent to perish
Yes, all unsung they kill their young, who fall and die and then they cried
But why?
A different house of worship, a different color skin
A piece of land that's coveted and the drums of war begin
Only death can triumph, there's no place left to hide
And still the madmen ply their trade,claiming God is on their side
Of all who live, who crawl and creep
Who take and give, who wake and sleep
Who run, who stand, who dot the land from shore to shore
Man, only man, none but man wages war
Only man eternally killing
Only man infernally willing
To concede himself grace, to bury his race
Only man earnestly praying to his God as he's slaying
And piously saying as the battles increase
He does what he must, for his motives are just
The mayhem, the carnage, the slaughter won't cease
But no need to worry, God's in his corner, he's killing for peace
Man, his greed, his hate, his crime, his war
The Lord our God could bear no more
He looked his last at man so small
So lately risen, so soon to fall
He looked his last and had to know
Who's fault this anguish, this mortal woe
Had man failed maker, or maker man
Who was the planner, and who's the plan
He looked his last then turned aside
He knew the answer, that's why
God cried

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