rain of terror

a little rainfall tonight grabbed me out of my opiate-delusion and i wrote this. folks, times are hard












it's raining
god is giving us little kisses
angry little hate filled drops of eternal death

they drop like swords
like hail of marbles, filled with delicious floods,
storms, hurricanes, tsunami, more floods, mud slides, did i say death? yes, well, more death

the rain is more beautiful than anything
like sunsets with a purpose
if only that purpose was benign
if only god did not give us hate with love
if only he actually existed, and if he did, deadly rain would not, could not.

i smell the rain
it smells like green fields in heaven
it can see the ticks lapping it up
it nourishing them, and the deadly bacteria that swims inside them

i see the rain running down a girl's head as she cold sweats every night and day for her life, and people accuse, but do not ask, do not care, do not help
i see the rain running down her cheek as tears are never absent

i used to think: god gives us blessings. it is never cold and wet; if it is cold, it snows; if it is warm, it rains. i used to think he left these little blessing all over the place, little reminders of his love; but the other way is also true, pain with love, hate with beauty; almost like nature

suburban religion
down comforter religion
fireplace and hot cocoa religion
or starvation in Africa religion, while those who represent god feed you and tell you to believe; that heaven is not a place on earth, god is not you, you must take time out from being murdered and starving in order to put your head to the dirt and thank a fellow that was murdered two thousand years ago for no good reason

but ice floats
the seas do not boil
sunrise and sunset are red
we have snow and rain, clouds and ozone
we have wonder in abundance beyond reckoning
we do not need god

the only thing more natural than hating god, is loving tits

the rain is not benevolent, nor mal
god is non
nor is he here
nor is he he
nor is

here are we
we are
we have our lives and abilities, our loves
we are god and the rain touches us with wetness, and that is all

but in it we see the crops
we feel the cool wind
we breathe the damp air
we love it
our bodies love it as the earth loves it, and we are the earth, we are, and that is no shame

our world was never eden, but it could be
we are able, we have come so far, only our religion restrains us, only our fear contains us

in windy circles the rain falls
plays with the dirt and falls again
we ask questions of it
but we get only more
and we do not see the beauty in our rain-filled eyes