i used to sleep upstairs from god.

in a small ohio town
on the second floor
of the home
in which i was conceived, born and raised.

he wore a beard
his first name had 5 letters
his surname had 6
his middle name wasn't "h."
but it might as well have been
for all the hell through which i put him
and all the hell from which he thought he was saving me.

my god was true and livin'
he was blue from livin'
that by-your-collar,
stretch-your-dollar,
clock-punchin',
shift-rotatin',
7 days on-2 days off
existence.

so, he sought heaven in his family
and he created paradise from them.

he woke up each morning next to the only dream he ever wanted to imagine.

he achieved his own fantasies with every point and every rebound
his sons crammed into the box scores of high school basketball games.

he accumulated siblings and parents among the townfolk
who came to love him simply because he was good.

and he tried to pass his version of paradise onto me.

but i'm named for milton,
naturally, i lost it.

not when first phone call from precinct hall asked him to bring bail money for his first born,

or when brew and food mixed to soil his brand new living room carpet,

or even when i gave up on athletics before he was ready to.

no, i lost paradise the day i exceeded god.

it was one of those countless one-on-one battles
when father schools son on how the game is supposed to be played

he let me jump out to an early lead
--as he usually did--
before reigning jump shot after jump shot
on my bald, confident head.

but for the first time,
my eyes looked down at his
and my thighs were stronger than his
and when i pounded the ball against the concrete
backing him further and further into the paint:

god quivered.

spin move.
elevation.
ball.
slams.
through.
hoop.

neither of us had the heart to finish the game;
we both knew the outcome was inevitable
and he knew it wouldn't be confined to that court.

i never celebrated that moment
'cause i never fully believed in it

until years later,
when the old man
stood in my home
--more hair on his shoulders than on his head--
smiling,
as he gazed upon a wall
decorated by evidence of my journeys
and adorned with articulations of the place
i had carved for myself in the history of this world;
he extended his hand toward mine
not to shake it,
but to ask for help walking to his car.

whoa, this was an incredible piece. honestly, you gave me chills reading this. the ending was brilliant. i cannot even begin to qoute you, this is superb. please post more and do not hold back, this was the most original piece on god i have ever read. stellar indeed.

peace.

it was truly a pleasure reading this.
u paint quite a picture:

"god quivered.

spin move.
elevation.
ball.
slams.
through.
hoop."

coming back for a more thorough read. i felt the slow motion in this. and the bang-crush sound... tight.

ps: pleasure connecting with u in nyc, fam. i'll be out there this year.... for sure.

~MUSE

likewise on the shared moments in ny. was truly a highlight of the trip.

you keep me posted on your travels. i'm happy to host.

This is a really beautiful and touching piece- really, you had me sniffling there for a second. I liked this part and the ending line the best:

his middle name wasn't "h."
but it might as well have been
for all the hell through which i put him
and all the hell from which he thought he was saving me.

my god was true and livin'
he was blue from livin'
that by-your-collar,
stretch-your-dollar,
clock-punchin',
shift-rotatin',
7 days on-2 days off
existence.

Thanks for posting that for us all to enjoy!!!!

lol for whatever reason..i just wanna cry right now..seriously..this piece moved me...maybe im just emotional at the moment..but this was great great stuff..flawless i'd say...wow...im just...in awe...wow..lol..im going crazy now..sorry about that...but yeah...*Exhales*

lol ur from LA? can i be your understudy? hahah for serious.

Alright -- Alright, this one made me pull out the ol' tissue box, but I only used ONE tissue --sniff--

This was beautiful and heartfelt indeed!

More!


Please!

upping this...this should get 40 replies...sleepers will have their throats slit. may i save this to my hard drive, sir george?

Georgy i must say this is an honor to read. A true pleasure, thank you for writing it. I agree, all you fools that are posting all over this board how are you able to sleep on this one. Anyways once again stellar post. PEACE.

*chills + speechless*

*sigh*

this moved me profoundly
it's always wonderful to see
that someone has the courage to become themselves

peace blessings and cool water
**************************************
odo nyera fie kwan...love lights it's own path, it does not get lost on it's way home
(the meaning of my avatar)


" There is no jewel rarer than a woman, no conditon superior to that of a woman.
There is not, nor has been, nor will be any destiny equal to that of a woman...
There is not,nor has been, nor will be any holy place like unto a woman.
There is no prayer equal to a woman...."
Saktisangama Tantra (Ancient Indian Scripture)


never ever doubt a girl in the dancehall they'll make you limp home --Science Fiction

BTW, Geminis are the astrological freaks. Plus we're SMART!
heh heh. --janey

a woman w/out standards is subject to someone else's view point of love--morpheme

AIM--> cislandbushmama

this was soooooooooo beautiful to me....i felt like i was watching a movie of growth, introspection, and time...

peace!
li

i thought that this was an amazing peace, because that are parent is the first god we know.........shlom


I asked a jew how did you become the chosen people
he said because i chose to take your place



falling victim is not optional

...me too, got the chills, it is beautiful....:>)

truly beautfiful yall. nuff love 'n respect. all praise due to jah!

Man, iz new to dis shit, but i can tell u got talent, it was a nice way of looking at it in a way ppl can relate to, in my opinion.
1
keep duin mo' sheet.




T.E.D.I AMIN,
84' T3RROR 3RA,
HOLT M.A.F.I.A CREATION
EVILLE $IDE,
HMC.

>i used to sleep upstairs from god.

You had me from that line on.......this was a powerful piece. I'm impressed by this.... Keep Flowin'........

>thank you for sharing such a beautiful poem....
much love

thanks for
up every morning.
©delsbrothergeorge

this joint was built off of a line in the film version of "fight club".

brad pitt's tyler durden character says:

"our fathers are our models for god."

surely, that's not the first time that idea was expressed. but that's the first time i heard it articulated.

thanks for reading. hope it was worth your time.

peace.

in a sense...it makes all sons, at least first or only sons, jesus..but then...its funny since jesus is actually god incarnate...but what are sons then? u have to think..how different or alike am i, are they (sons) to my father, to them (fathers)? its really really really interesting...of course u knew this...but i felt that shit...i just felt i needed to get past the aesthetic reaction this gave me and look critically at it...i think i will...but i have to eat..big ups!

>
>no, i lost paradise the day i exceeded god.
>

this was fine work. for some reason, it felt strangely familiar, particularly the tone of this line and the way you end the piece . . . as Fone would say, perhaps I might have "encountered" it some other time. at any rate, very nice.

i'm curious what became of the father/son relationship beyond that.

~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~
If you would like to know what men are, then you should be a woman. If you would like to know what women are, then you should ask God. - Jacob Lorenz

the father-son relationship, that is.

i feel like i am much of what he hoped i'd become, but not quite exactly what he had in mind. and i really haven't fully accepted the reversal in the dynamic. perhaps, because i remain dependent in several senses.

I'm going to have to read this again later to search inside the imagery. I'm feeling so much more than I can explain right now. "i used to live upstairs from God". Woah! The intro alone could be discussed for hours. "I used to live" opens up a death issue to me and is further explained when connected to the the following "upstairs from God". The "upstairs" and the "from God" are screaming at me. Your vision to use parental overtones to support the undertones of finding self were equally as brilliant. I enjoyed the read and will probably enjoy it all the more when I read it again. Thanks, and God bless.

jacques derrida would be proud of you.

the first line:

"i used to live upstairs from god."

is intended to catch your attention and reel you in. it is also meant to foreshadow the end of the poem. or at least the climax of it when the narrator exceeds god.

i believe the line can be examined from a number of angles, but that was the original intention.

though touchingly familiar and relatable(is that a word)..
I don't know if I would agree with the Ed Norton spouted proclamation that our fathers are our first models of who GOD is.
My GOD is bigger than a man, but have no fear, I dig where you went. Give us more from your files.

i slept
yet again

idk y i do
but i do
like everytime

ur prolly one of the most consistent
writers on the board

and i have yet to read
a piece by you
that i havent liked

thnks for posting this

I'm not a big fan of poetry, but every so often I read a pieace that blows me away. This didn't just blow me away. It was like you dropped a nuclear bomb on my head! Shit was amazing.

o.k. i'm thinking a few things on this. it's title couldn't do anything else but capture my attention, that's a good thing. then i started reading and started to wonder exactly what was going on (its purpose) and for the life of me i couldn't get it. so perhaps you'd want to give me some insight. but i kept on reading and it captured me even more... it became a story and i wanted to reach its climax and read its ending. i was pleased and impressed. overall it turned out a lot different than i expected (i thought it would be some self-praise on everything that you know that the rest of us don't). i liked its texture and its individual life. good piece.

no more that can be said...

for this poem...

or 4 yr talent...

so, basking in the illumination of yr incredible-ness...

i'ma just nitpick;

"before reigning jump shot after jump shot
on my bald, confident head."

-- raining?

lol...

i love u 4 what u do w/ language man. u c how many folks u moved?

'nuff sedd.

that was beautiful in a whole 'nother way. sorry i didn't peep this sooner. one love to this. it inspired deep thought on a simple concept. one.

fantastic.

_____________________________
"sometimes i wish i could pick a good day and put it on repeat." ~GirlChild

im still searching for myself on this one
made me look, you know?

on these lines alone:

i never celebrated that moment
'cause i never fully believed in it

until years later,
when the old man
stood in my home
--more hair on his shoulders than on his head--
smiling,
as he gazed upon a wall
decorated by evidence of my journeys
and adorned with articulations of the place
i had carved for myself in the history of this world;
he extended his hand toward mine
not to shake it,
but to ask for help walking to his car.


I'm at a loss on exactly what you speak of here.. I had many readings of the piece.. say for instance the first meaning, I thought you were referring to your father as being god-like, or actually god himself... and you, as a child was not only trying to live up to your father, but to God as well.. the second reading, I pulled that.. maybe you wanted to be God, and that's why the constant competition took place between the two of you... either way, I dug how you seem to pull the reader (myself) in with the language as well as the story-telling method you used.. ahh.. yes, we shall converse about this one. Peace~


thanks for
up every morning.
©delsbrothergeorge

is the elusive perfect example of fiction through poetry that i've been looking for

it has the feel of fiction- a great story line and everything

but it uses the poetry medium and all its tools perfectly

i feel like i just read a good short story, but actually i just read a great poem

i love the honest tone of this, too. the innocense of it. the degree of reflection. the character development. the god analogy. the way you varied line length.

i could read books of this stuff, for real. ever thought about writing a book of poetic fiction? a book of short "stories"?

anything you write is beautiful in my opinion, but since i know you this one feels different. not quite sure how, but it just does.

This was Righteous...God is Man with Knowledge of self and the Man of old age definitely has that. Nice piece!

Peace

those were some touching words... i'm sure everyone here can relate to that... keep that up...one

-MiNuS

Im guilty, I pleed guilty, I slep on this totally....I must be crazy, I prolly still dont understand half of the contents in this, but Im still in amazement, thanx, One!

NewsiC_NoyC
There's nuthin better than a Blank Page-NoyC

Hey I couldn't read all the other replies, like I normally like to do, but I had to respond to this piece. It has to be one the finest written I've ever seen- not on this board but anywhere. Not only is the writing good, but its meaning stretches beyond the scope that we look through in our day to day lives..

I know that moment. I'm going through it.. when I'm aging into my golden physical years and my father is aging into his middle years. I can totally feel this piece because of that.. or maybe thats just my perception.. Who knows. Anyway, whatever inspired you to write it, you have much love and respect from me on this piece.

I want to lose again.

i'ont even got words.

*daps*

yo this was the best thing ive read on this site in some time.
very complete!
takes you thropugh a range of very complex emotions, and you had so many quatable sections where you manipulated the language so well. makes me think about my kids and how they will percieve me. I think its every GOOD fathers dream to be someday eclipsed by his offspring.
I know it s mine.

peace
-j