More Poetry by Robert R. Woods

January 7, 2013

 

This poem was inspired by the number of fall leaves we have on the streets of Norman back in November. And  Stephen Hawkins who recently on a "science" show told me and the rest of the world that God did not exist. Thanks, Stephen. That's like seeing a movie  and telling everybody in who haven't SEEN the movie what happens at the end. 

 

 

Science

 

There are large islands of autumn leaves drowning

the driveway... cars rush by changing the physical

formations of all those burnt orange, dying things.
The Big Swoosh in action... nature changing its

underwear in a very public fashion.

It may well be that the Big Bang Theory our twenty-first

century thinkers just love to gossip about was nothing more

than a simple sneeze from God’s huge nostrils. I’ve heard,

from reliable sources, it’s one of His best tricks, along with

burning bushes and angels with fire retardant wings and

trees that bear fresh, green fruits of original sin.

Charlton Heston, I’m told, stood on the mountain
watching us drink wine and scurry about like sexy,

drunken ants. I wonder why he didn’t turn around

and flee back up the path yelling and screaming for

God to take him, take him now. I guess, like the rest of us,

he believed that life—no matter how filthy and disgusting,

how silly and dangerous, how broken and sad it can be—

is better than a heaven where’s there not much to do all

day but pray... and occasionally sing... with angels.

When I was twelve, science scolded me, “Don’t you dare

eat chocolate! It will give you pimples!”

At thirty-five science said, “We lied! Go ahead,

eat all the chocolate you want... just don’t have sex.”

But if science got chocolate,,, and sex... wrong, how

can I trust when Stephen mechanically insists,

“THERE... IS... NO... GOD...”

—rrw 11-17-12