Confessions of an English tobacco smoker

A brief preamble about giving up fags and heretical musings. Following on, an extract from an 'epic' poem, Paradise Revisited.

Back again – well, how could I deprive readers of depravity? In between attempting a screenplay for a Jimmy Swaggart version of 120 giornate di Sodoma, I’ve been tinkering with an ‘epic’ poem as I do battle with the demon of nicotine addiction. Ah yes, my oral fixation with smelly cylindrical objects has its drawbacks and simply must come to an end. I should warn those attempting this feat that withdrawal symptoms include a funny taste in the mouth, cravings for mouthwash and the ejaculation of rants over a miscellany of websites. Well, rather a rant than a cant eh? [Sardonic smirk].

What better distraction therefore, than to allow jittery fingers to cavort mischievously from keyboard and into the realms of blogosphere?

Recently, I’ve been pondering the use of derogatory names for those of us who question, or even dare to lampoon religious dogma; ‘blasphemer’, ‘heathen’, ‘gentile’, ‘infidel’, ‘heretic’
‘apostate’…etc. I confess that many of these terms may apply to Mr E. Black. As for my irreverent postings, well judging by emails I’ve received, they’ve rather rankled certain parties.

Oops.

The following piece is part of Paradise Revisited, a risqué retelling of Genesis, part-inspired by John Milton’s Paradise Lost. I’d like to dedicate it to TV evangelists everywhere...

Part II - A Marvelous Idea.

Great architect of light and form
did craft His vast panopticon.
Through force of will His brilliance
shine; the stars enwrought, in paradigm.
Darkness He did thus rescind
with radiance of heart and mind.
In fire and thunder, brightness blaze
to forge the earth and by his grace:
A sun to be its firebrand and
lantern moon to swathe the land.
By dream, these bodies were enwrought;
as vast and nebulous as thought.
He sculpted mountain, valley, hill;
and oft He paused to admire his skill.
His own genius he did esteem
while fashioning this cosmic scheme.
‘I’m terribly clever…’ he proclaimed
- to prove this point, He conjured rain.
Whence oceans swelled from barren sands
and rivers coursed through desert lands
Such inspiration He did sow in
soils lush its germ to grow;
trees, flowers and pastures green.
With nectar’d fruits His garden teemed.
A bounteous perfusion of scent and hue,
caressed by wind, bejeweled by dew.
A barren earth He did thus tame.
(And all to glorify His name.)
Anon, He brought forth bird, beast
and fish abounding in the deep.
They knew not death’s dark paragon
(since all were vegetarian?).
The lion and lamb dwelt in accord;
by prey, each predator adored.
Yet whilst the world lay at His feet,
the Maker knew it incomplete.
So in His image He did fashion
a being born of thought and passion.
A creature of His own reflection
(and thus embodied His perfection).
Yet greatly lessened; God’s intent
that man might gaze in wonderment
towards the heavens - mild and meek.
(For adulation did God seek;
to bask in mankind’s humble praise,
His ego gorged till the end of days.)
Thus man was gifted power of tongue
to sing God’s praises all day long.
In feudal bond, humans would be
contrite in their humility. Thus
in six days it came to pass, the
dawning of the universe. With
sunlight sheen his earth lacquered.
Spake God: ‘Verily, I’m feeling
knackered!’

© Edwin Black

Please feel free to add comments or email on this or any other postings.

Yours raffishly,
EB