God's Prayers

Name of God's Name! Red murder reigns; All hell is loose; On gold autumnal air Walk grinning devils, barbed and hoofed; While high on hills of hate, Black-blossomed, crimson-sky'd, Thou sittest, dumb. Father Almighty! This earth is mad! Palsied, our cunning hands; Rotten, our gold; Our argosies reel and stagger Over empty seas; All the long aisles Of Thy Great Temples, God, Stink with the entrails Of our souls. And Thou art dumb. Above the thunder of Thy Thunders, Lord, Lightening Thy Lightnings, Rings and roars The dark damnation Of this hell of war. Red piles the pulp of hearts and heads And little children's hands. Allah! Elohim! Very God of God! Death is here! Dead are the living; deep—dead the dead. Dying are earth's unborn— The babes' wide eyes of genius and of joy, Poems and prayers, sun-glows and earth-songs, Great-pictured dreams, Enmarbled phantasies, High hymning heavens—all In this dread night Writhe and shriek and choke and die This long ghost-night— While Thou art dumb. Have mercy! Have mercy upon us, miserable sinners! Stand forth, unveil Thy Face, Pour down the light That seethes above Thy Throne, And blaze this devil's dance to darkness! Hear! Speak! In Christ's Great Name— I hear! Forgive me, God! Above the thunder I hearkened; Beneath the silence, now,— I hear! (Wait, God, a little space. It is so strange to talk with Thee— Alone!) This gold? I took it. Is it Thine? Forgive; I did not know. Blood? Is it wet with blood? 'Tis from my brother's hands. (I know; his hands are mine.) It flowed for Thee, O Lord. War? Not so; not war— Dominion, Lord, and over black, not white; Black, brown, and fawn, And not Thy Chosen Brood, O God, We murdered. To build Thy Kingdom, To drape our wives and little ones, And set their souls a-glitter— For this we killed these lesser breeds And civilized their dead, Raping red rubber, diamonds, cocoa, gold! For this, too, once, and in Thy Name, I lynched a Nigger— (He raved and writhed, I heard him cry, I felt the life-light leap and lie, I saw him crackle there, on high, I watched him wither!) Thou? Thee? I lynched Thee? Awake me, God! I sleep! What was that awful word Thou saidst? That black and riven thing—was it Thee? That gasp—was it Thine? This pain—is it Thine? Are, then, these bullets piercing Thee? Have all the wars of all the world, Down all dim time, drawn blood from Thee? Have all the lies and thefts and hates— Is this Thy Crucifixion, God, And not that funny, little cross, With vinegar and thorns? Is this Thy kingdom here, not there, This stone and stucco drift of dreams? Help! I sense that low and awful cry— Who cries? Who weeps? With silent sob that rends and tears— Can God sob? Who prays? I hear strong prayers throng by, Like mighty winds on dusky moors— Can God pray? Prayest Thou, Lord, and to me? Thou needest me? Thou needest me? Thou needest me? Poor, wounded soul! Of this I never dreamed. I thought— Courage, God, I come!

In God's name! Red murder reigns; All hell is loose; Through the golden autumn air Walk grinning devils, barbed and hoofed; While high on hills of hate, With black blossoms under crimson skies, You sit, silent. Father Almighty! This earth is mad! Our skillful hands are paralyzed; Our gold is rotten; Our great ships reel and stagger Over empty seas; All the long aisles Of your Great Temples, God, Stink with the guts Of our souls. And you are silent. Above the thunder of your thunders, Lord, As your lightning flashes, Rings and roars The dark damnation Of this hell of war. Hearts and heads pile up in red pulp, Along with little children's hands. Allah! Elohim! True God of God! Death is here! The living are dead; the dead are deeply dead. The earth's unborn are dying. Babies' wide eyes, full of genius and joy, Poems and prayers, sunlight and earth songs, Great, vivid dreams, Fantasies carved in marble, Heavens resounding with hymns. All In this dreadful night Writhe and shriek and choke and die Through this long ghostly night, While you are silent. Have mercy! Have mercy on us, miserable sinners! Come forward, uncover your face, Pour down the light That seethes above your throne, And blast this devil's dance into darkness! Hear! Speak! In Christ's Great Name, I hear! Forgive me, God! I listened above the thunder. Now, beneath the silence, I hear! (Wait, God, a little while. It is so strange to talk with you, Alone!) This gold? I took it. Is it yours? Forgive me. I did not know. Blood? Is it wet with blood? It came from my brother's hands. (I know. His hands are mine.) It flowed for you, O Lord. War? No, not war. Dominion, Lord, and over black, not white. Black, brown, and fawn, And not your Chosen Brood, O God, We murdered. To build your Kingdom, To dress our wives and little ones, And make their souls glitter, For this we killed these lesser breeds And civilized their dead. We plundered red rubber, diamonds, cocoa, gold! For this, too, once, and in your name, I lynched a Nigger. (He raved and writhed, I heard him cry, I felt the light of life leap and fall still, I saw him crackle there, up high, I watched him wither!) You? You? I lynched you? Wake me, God! I am asleep! What was that awful word you said? That black and torn thing, was it you? That gasp, was it yours? This pain, is it yours? Are these bullets piercing you, then? Have all the wars of all the world, Through all of distant time, drawn blood from you? Have all the lies and thefts and hates done so too? Is this your Crucifixion, God, And not that funny, little cross, With vinegar and thorns? Is your kingdom here, not there, This mass of stone and stucco dreams? Help! I sense that low and awful cry. Who cries? Who weeps? With silent sobs that rip and tear, Can God sob? Who prays? I hear strong prayers crowding past, Like mighty winds on dark moors. Can God pray? Are you praying, Lord, and to me? You need me? You need me? You need me? Poor, wounded soul! I never dreamed of this. I thought, Courage, God, I am coming!