Creation Myths

Creation Myths

 ‘On the 12^th day God created Me
in his image
which is to say Godlike
completely made up
a right bastard.
And it was good.’

I am more than the sum of my parts
I am an impossible fraction
of all my past broken hearts-
a tyre on ice gaining traction.
The net yield of 24 years of growth
I’m a fine wine getting finer
that shouter of loud empty boasts
a writer, a liar, a line-by-liner.
A loveable, laughable, strange heady mixture-
a painter, a thousand word drawer of pictures.

‘The Lord said unto Abraham
“You must sacrifice your son to me-”
and Abraham said
“Fuck no, you sacrifice your son to me-”
and God said
“Fine, but you go first,”
and Abraham said
“This is so stupid.”
To which God said
“Do not question the word of your Father in heaven
for I am sorely drunk
and will not remember this
in the morning.’

I am the son of my father
lost, head down, in the book of my life
his quiet genius my arrogant bastard
silent but deadly sharp as a knife
I am every inch the love of my mother
writing this down because she carried me here
the heart on my sleeve is her heart, none other
soaking my shirt clean of all fear
I am the blood, spit and skin of my parents
I am titanium, I am their strength.

‘He said to His apostles
“Take six roses from the garden”
and it was done.
And when it was done He said
“Which rose is the most beautiful?”
and His apostles mumbled
“This one’s pretty nice.”
But He was filled with wrath, saying
“Shut the fuck up
it is a metaphor
for we are all roses
in the Garden of the Lord.”
And His apostles didn’t really understand
but nodded anyway.’

They raised hell on earth
which makes us little devils
paint spattered roses covered in dirt
for I have never been frightened of evil
these little monsters are my kith and kin
fighting and biting, making loud music
this is the family we’ve found ourselves in
the winning team though we didn’t choose it-
Raised to be artists, rooted in heart
late to the party, last to depart.

‘And lo,
approaching the place where they were drinking,
He, in all His eternal wisdom,
spake thus:
“Whosoever lettest me into their hearts
so I will love them
all night long
and again in the morning.”
And so it came to pass.’

I have poured out my heart for each of you
covered myself in your brand
been crushed into rocks for a piece of you
put back together in your hands
my tongue is a slave to the thought of her
I am bitter because of your taste
I am giving myself for something together
I’m the beat of your heart, gaining pace
The one thing to live for is someone to die for-
I was formed in the fires of your molten cores.

‘He found Himself
hanging out on a cross
which wasn’t much fun-
the media called it
“self aggrandising”
and “blatantly self referential”.
He stayed up there though
blatantly
self conscious
of the pain.”

I am more than the sum of my parts
utterly incapable of listing the ingredients
blood brothers, teachers, losses and starts-
books, music, art in all mediums
the smell of the sea, the thrumming of strings
the glimpse of a leg as she gets off a train
a dimple, or two, an iris expanding
a heart, two fists, a tongue, a brain
I am the greatest, I am the worst
I am but a fleeting collection of words.

‘Go farther,
the sun,
and a bottle of rum.
I am but a man.
A man.’

Here endeth the lesson.