F A T W A
Fatwa poet of death
Fatwa poet computed in the chains of Valhalla,
Fatwa poet of enlightenment
Valhalla poet of the dwelling potency of reward
Marked by the silver sword of destruction,
Rivaled by the crown of perfection.
Valhalla poet of tumbling stars
Stroke from the molars of God,
Biting furiously at the mutation of sin
Livened by the spewing air of existence,
Sought by the flaming tongues, aching fingers and rumbling stomachs
Is Odin God, the Lord in the hall of the fallen?
Awakened by the gush of blood?
Is God Yama, the puppeteer of death in Naraka?
Or the seductive grin of Ereshigal in the hidden cosmos?
Fatwa why did God need Cerberus as he floated as Hades while lusting for Persephone
Is representation of evil separated from God?
Is evil God or is God evil?
Valhalla, are you the age of awakening
The birth of virgin stars, the dance on the willows,
The bolstering stamp of authority, the fear
A tribulation for dissenters
Or another illusionary stage of human conscience
Will evolution extinct you to a blind rumor
Or will empirical facts conjure solid hypothesis
When will you resonate globally?
Will you mechanize Antikythera and enlighten us
Is logic dumbfounding and mythology exciting?
Why are we here?
Valhalla who gave powers to fatwa
Who tempered with God’s carnage in the romps of ancient times,
To mild coughing as earthquakes to please his transcendence
Valhalla did fatwa atoms compose God
Thereby construing his image and characters
Or was his flaming heart transplanted by the reigns of darkness
Fatwa, is the illusionary face of Iblis, a scourge or a grimaced painting to mock humans
To the bending of wind tilted at an angle, a flame of gist
To sprouting roots by magic fingers of the soil
Valhalla, how does fatwa convince plants to grow?
Or why does reason insist on presence of worms and foliage
Is the universe an elliptical mystery?
Fatwa, does God roll on the floor in our aridity of conscience
Fatwa, then why is Valhalla a beckoning reality
Fatwa! Fatwa! Fatwa!
We sang songs to Om
We danced to the taps of the sages
And drank particles of dust from saints as fulfillment.
We camped at the door of empiricism searching for meaning
Trying to peek inside the robes of God
To see if he possessed the delicious member of man
Or the femoral valley of a woman,
Then we secretly roused in temperance that His imagination was eccentric.
Now we speak bound by the stones we hammered on Iblis
As they toast gleefully rubbing cheeks with God.
Valhalla, since we found the flames is it a kind of Holocaust
Valhalla, should we strangle Fatwa
Or praise its callous approach and photon spark?
Valhalla, we scrubbed stomachs in Timbuktu in our quest for knowledge,
Speared our fellows in the battle for wisdom in Alexandria & Ethiopia
Ate and drank by the rivers of Africa.
We were pure!
We caught up in the renaissance of Greco-Roman and Arabic sensuality and religion.
Fatwa, did God move at our merciless change of Gods?
Was He jealous and humble as the Christians Shout?
Was he adamant and furious as the defenders of Islam?
Was he comfortable in command as Krishna, Vishnu, Rama and the rest?
Or was he the unfathomable human enlightenment of Buddhism
Or the tongue of Confucianism and Taoism, that uncrushable word of truth
Or the potency of science
Fatwa, how do you join all these?
And why is Valhalla an enemy of Om?
F A T W A