I wrote this poem for and about Random Acts of Coffee. As the curtains opened at the Old Town Poetry Slam that I hosted, I stood with my confirmation Bible, a t-shirt bearing a praying mantis with its arm crossed above the word "atheist" and read this:"Welcome to the Church of the Word"
In the beginning,
there was darkness
then spoke the Word
it was noun and verb
a subject and its action
a declaration of self-aware existence
whatever you may believe in or don't,
the universe spoke the first poem:
"I am"
and the art of existence detonated in a whisper
stretching its arms and legs across billions of light years
to the edge of the cosmos
leaving us in its wake to interpret
"I am"
is simple creation
it is cause from nothing
it is sound and fury
we spoke the same words
when we danced in half in our mother's womb
the words "am" and "i," waiting for a poet to pronounce them
you were that poet
and you answered with conviction, with sincerity:
"I am"
and your cells detonated in a whisper
stretching your fingers and toes into the poem you are now
comprised of 100 trillion cells,
each holding a different word,
and waiting for you to assemble them into your life story
begging you to speak
welcome to the church of the word
we are here to worship poetry
not what the words on paper
divorced from life and breath
not an abstraction
not the poet
but poetry
it is scripture that changes
with every voice on this microphone,
that builds a different temple in each of your minds
your interpretation becomes your own rabbi,
your own guru,
your own shaman,
your own saint
those of us who spit verse on this microphone
are just believers like you
who feel so moved by the word
we can no longer hold it in
who value notepads more than money
and holy ink more than heaven
because it is the word that will save our souls
now when we can relate our experiences
not when we die
every poem we write
is an echo of "I am" declaring itself in a new way
welcome to the church of the word
here, the only sin is silence
here, the only salvation is speech
understand you are blessing the generations
to come after you
the word does not promise immortality
but it does promise eternal life
teach a child the sacredness of poetry
and they will teach a child the same
influence the next generation
and you will live forever
welcome to the church of the word
by being here, you are converts
when you leave here, you are evangelists
when you return,
we hope you will want to join us
and preach your story
to enjoy life everlasting
welcome to the church of the word
Seemed like it was a fun write ;P, I like it! ~looks at the impudence of church literature, but then again uses that literature's style to capture something of equal and actual intensity -- so: a good mind-read :D
ReplyDeleteMan... 12 years later, its 2009 and I've just come across your beautiful poem. The reason I found it is that I had a sudden, profound insight into how sound is in the core of everything. Then I remembered "in the beginning there was the word", and decided to search for the origin of the word. So I googled "when did universe first speak". Nothing. Then "the universe spoke its first word". Nothing. Then tryed "the universe spoke the first". And low and behold, only result was this mind boggling beautiful poem. Thank you for this. Every last bit has resonated with me.
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