Conversations with God(s)?

Dear God:

How are you today?

Yeah I know, it’s been a while since we last talked

I remember the last time I tried, you dusted me off like chalk

But see how far I walk without you holding my hand

I know you’re still watching and guiding me, for that I’m grateful

But it’s not about me today, it’s about you

Tell me how’s your space mansion? At least that’s how I picture it

I picture you having a blast while watching us blast each other, running and ducking under cover

I picture you sipping a glass of wine with no bother,

Flipping through lives like Netflix movies, wondering what shall I watch tonight?

I picture you spliffed out with Jesus, listening to all our prayers and laughing at our misplaced whispers

Tell me why do you entertain the liars who claim to work in your name?

How have you let thugs and preachers become the same?

I’ve witnessed prophets aplenty twisting your words to suit their game

Tell me why are you so bitter?

God, please put down your machine gun, drop the AK’s and M4’s, decommission your F22’s and nukes

Or let them flood the planet and wipe us out absolute…

Or maybe just leave my Muslim brothers alone…

(Pencil breaks)

(I’m writing too loud)

I don’t know it’s just a thought

Look at how long my hair has grown since we last talked

How long are Jesus’ locks now?

I’ve rewritten this letter several times and I keep asking myself how do I reach you?

How?

I hope your address is still the same

Lately it seems you’ve moved into fame and glamour because

I’m seeing more letters and posts going to celebrities than the church house

I’m seeing more Beyoncé merchandise than rosaries hanging from each blouse

(Ooof scratch that)

(That one’s going to get me into trouble)

Double taps and number counts are the only way to make these young hearts pound

I’m watching men get your words twisted and inflicting hurt on each spouse

“Submission”

They call it

“Being a man”

They call it

Your sound is distorted coming from a sexist pulpit

I’m hearing more and more money hungry, drug slinging, bass trapping, happy go lucky womanizers stealing your sound

While I’m choking on mental illnesses and disease with pollution disguised as rain clouds

Your presence remains with us?

I’ll give you the benefit of doubt

(Pencil breaks)

(I can’t believe I went for a job interview in avocado socks)

Dear God,

Why does my home define mental illness as demons?

Why are the young being forced to internalize sermons

As they lose themselves coloring a picture painted by their parents

Using nothing but a broken crayon

The hunger for success has built a thirst for spirits

The problems weigh and let not their parents hear about it

God, how long is this test of life?

(Seriously speaking)

Who assigns a twenty-year long test and gives no slides summarizing it’s content

I bet you smile, real content

Watching me squirm in and out of sticky situations and grow stronger each day

I’m getting better at understanding your tests

Right now they’re nothing but side quests leading to that undeniable future you’ve built for me

You thought I didn’t know huh?

I’ve found meaning in suffering

I’ve found clarity as I keep blossoming

I’ve found strength while I was hurting

So open it up, open up that curtain because I’m ready to overtake all of them

All your obstacles and veiled lessons that left my chest strained

I won’t stop until my mother never has to work again

Speaking of ends

What time does your shift end?

Do you take coffee breaks?

How much do you get paid? Do you pay yourself?

And how is my dad?

(Tear drips)

I’m sure his smile brings you copious joy

(Tear drips)

I hope he’s watching football with my uncle

I hope they watch me flourishing and getting older

(I miss that smile)

But could you maybe reduce the load I’m carrying on my shoulder?

Or warm my heart, because with each loss I feel it getting colder

You know,

Last night, I sensed a presence

As I tossed and turned in search of sleep’s embrace

I was awakened by the gleaming light of the full moon’s face

And calmly,

I turned to meet her gaze,

Only to find her glaring at my soul

We watched each other, like a game of chicken

Eagerly waiting for the first one to look away

Then the stars beamed right beside her

The Nova Scotian sky split,

With her glossy expression slowly fading away

Distorted by the ravenous night sky

She covered her face

Never to be seen again

Was that you watching over me?

Did you finally turn your face towards me?

Poets have really big egos, don’t they?

So tonight this letter’s for you

Tonight I write this letter because...

I forgot how to pray.

- ikifar_