To Blame God

I envy people who drink. At least they have something to blame everything on. – Oscar Levant

Great words! We should blame others for our problems in order to survive this hostile world. “This is my fault!” might make you a saint, but it could render you neurotic and eventually drive you crazy. Therefore, we definitely need something or somebody to blame on. That is why we need religion. That is why we need God who created us Christians. God created us without our consent so He is responsible for all our miseries, isn’t He? However, the Church that claims it is the voice of God pushes the faithfuls to the sinner’s pit by proclaiming the so-called Gospel saying that we are all sinners who almost destroyed this beautiful world God created for us and we can be saved by listening to the Church’s dogma and obey any rules that the Church made up to maintain the organization. Is Church’s will God’s will? God wants us to complain to Him and challenge Him about alleged God’s will. God is willing to solve any problems we have in this world but the Church blocks the channel to God and impose Church’s will on us. We are God’s beautiful creatures and supposed to lead happy lives in this world and forever and ever in Heaven. So blame God for any problems in your life and ask Him for help! What if God doesn’t exist? If God doesn’t exist, create Him/Her. God gave us brilliant brains to make anything possible including creating God. Too bad some people don’t have God to blame on. I can’t image how they can overcome their miseries. Well, they are all God’s creatures so they must have created something just like we created God to throw all their problems to.

Not My Road

I’ve never been this sure before;
this is not my road.

I’ve walked on this road for more than a decade;
this is not my road.

I’ve been running on this road with my chin up high;
this is not my road.

I’ve been crawling on this road screwing up smiles out of nothing;
This is not my road.

Looking back at the road I’ve been on,
I see many pieces of memory twinkling like the ice that cover the twigs and
I smell the fragrance of wild flowers filling up the whole road;
this is not my road.

I throw more-than-a-decade road in a trash can
and pick up another road;
is this my road?

The final road I will dump;
would that my road?

If I throw away all the road I was on,
they all would not be my roads.


I have no desire to become a God. I would be content with being an idol. Nah! I have to be an idol. Flowers could worship the invisible God? Nah! Hiding behind a God-like mask, when I crisscross the follower garden, flowers would worship me as if they meet God, would be frightened as if they are under judgment in front of God and would offer everything as if they give offerings to God.  My mask becomes God and God is hiding behind the mask. I wish my mask would resemble God even a bit, but I don’t know what kind of being God is and what God would look like. Even though my mask is said to be an idol, but the only visible thing is an idol, so I have to look like God to flowers. In this way, the true idolatry would be born. When I saunter around the garden with a triumphant air, I’ve found a flower wearing a similar mask as mine.  What’s happening here? How come a flower puts on an idol mask?! The flower with mask won’t worship me when I pass by. What is going on? Our eyes behind masks have a fight, but how could I win over a flower? Make the flower Goddess, then I can keep my position as an idol.  Come, come, butterflies that would worship Goddess! I will gather beautiful flowers that worship idol and when the time comes, I would unmask and say I am not God. Then the flowers would say how fortunate you are not God please keep being an idol for us.  Your mask would be magnificent if it is plated with gold. Well since the mask looks like the real God, who knows you might become God in the end?! Why am I writing this kind of gorgeous crap? A grumble of a self-proclaimed idol who can’t be worshipped by the flower(s) behind the Goddess-like mask.

Like a Small Bird

I am listening to the sound of a bird;
Is it weeping, laughing, or singing?

How would I know? If it is pretty, I
would listen intently even though I

couldn’t decipher no matter I listen
again and again. It could utter a sound

that I can make out a bit, but just like
Jesus who persists in sowing truth into

dumb disciples, it keeps flying the same
un-fathomable sound. Cry, cry, bird…

He could stop listening but is sticking
around in front of the small bird; a

tenacious human being. Does he want
to spew incomprehensible sounds just

like that bird or he has a desire to become
like Jesus? If I put that bird in the cage,

would the bird speak human language like
parrot? Ah! If I say something, that bird

wouldn’t understand anything from my
mouth. We would fall in love just like this!

A Kite

A kite floating way high up in the winter sky
and looking down upon the world; I am looking
up the bird feeling pain in my neck. Unlike
no-name obscure birds flying in a flock and
a pair of geese singing love songs by filling
up the sky with eardrum-splitting noise, the
kite looks lonely but so elegant and splendid
Probably the kite is not alone and may have
kids to feed or boy/girl friends are floating
somewhere else. Just like a golfer standing
alone and gazing at the invisible hole in a
green, it is alone even though it is not alone.
I hope I am not its food since I am not dead
yet. Just like that kite, I am looking down at
this world all alone and elegantly, but I am not
looking for dead meat. Yeah, after I eat fresh
living meat, I will be dead and will be the food
of the kite. I’ve come to know that why the kite
is hovering over my head. I might close my life
as a dinner of that kite, but I wish I could eat
the flesh and drink the blood of the fresh
living meat I’ve been yearning for. My elegant
and grandiose floating high up in the sky could
attract the refreshing breathing meat. It’s
little wonder the kite is a he.

Sin [Gospel of Mary P7:11-28]

A butterfly –
licking a pretty flower,
uncorrupt nature; not a sinner

A sparrow –
Ignoring a sunflower seed in the street;
committing a sin

A man –
not craving for the scent of a woman;
creats a grave sin out of nothing

A wolf –
with lamb’s blood dripping from mouth;
not condemned as a sinner

Bride of Blood (Exodus 4:24-26)

God probably was pissed off by Moses
who accepted God’s calling before he
realized what he did and was trudging

back to Egypt without any thought; God
pretended to try to kill vacuous Moses,
but he was lucky enough to have a quick-

witted and extremely reactive wife just
like me. Zipporah instantly circumcised
her own son before God killed her beloved

husband. Perhaps she is the only mother
who herself did circumcision on her son?
Who knows? There are plenty of weird

moms in this world. Even with her iron heart,
how frightened she was! How mad at her
thickheaded husband she was; she called

him a bridegroom of blood. Zipporah who
was not fazed at all at the sight of blood
can be called a bride of blood or a mother

of blood? If there were no Zipporah with
the great prophet Moses, I wouldn’t be
writing this kind of gem of a poem…hew.