My psalm to strange God.

It was the real beginning
Of all this remembering true history
And my terrible place in it.
When I was brought like a summons to the Birmingham Museum.
I was 15 and knew nothing
A few weird memories, a thing for religion
A scatty peasant girl, intent for to be a Hippie.
O a rebel, not a good woman.
So we stood and looked on the statue.
I never saw anything like that.
But that weeks swain saw it different.
I thought he was blind. He went, stupid man.
It was huge, a great bronze, of Satan falling from grace
Satan snatching, a hard hostile thief
Falling into corruption, falling into his place.
His great wings raised, all of it like lightning.
Its power, beauty, the sheer skill
Fascinated me. Yet I went, too young perhaps.
But a year layer returned, intent on seeing that.
I looked for a mark; C. ROBINSON. It should say 'Michaelangelo'
Quiet for a Saturday. No-one there.
Went looking to have a fag somewhere obscure;
Prayed what sin did that wondrous being do;
That beautiful angry Angel?
I noticed a dark blue curtain, hiding a darkened room.
Popped in there, to smoke and inspect exhibits
That sort of girl, always dropping in unexpected.
Usually it was boys or big holes in the road.
But this time I dropped in on God.
It was a very big room, dark but lit by spotlights.
First I looked in a cabinet.
A small, battered, dark gray circlet.
'A type of Davidic diadem', said the notice,
'Circa 1500 BC, probably original.'
'Found near Jerusalem, 1951.'
I looked at it, O ignorant child, it was iron, not gold.
And saluted old things, ancient kings, all holy and yesterdays news.
Next there were Roman altars. but I passed on
For their religion was contemptible.
Next a huge statue of Dagon.
A seagod by the fins at his feet, looking lost
Its hands broken, held out to receive, misery in the thing.
And then a row of very ancient altars
All circa 3000BC, yet in good nick.
I'd not known of these, so I looked my interest
On ideas of human sacrifice and was Molech
That burner of children somehow the basis
Of that Jehovah in Jerusalem?
They were all sandstone, squared. Ancient.
With little curved knobs at each apex.
Some had small pillars in front.
I not knowing why held my hand over each one.
Why I don't know; but even then I was being directed.
And one stopped, near the end. Shocking power
Rose invisible and steady from it.
I felt it twice, thrice. No mistake. It was live.
I knew something was there after all that time.
So I sat beside and waited. And saw absolutely nothing
The whole time I talked with the being who I felt sat there behind, above
I don't know. But I saw nothing. The only God
I never saw right away, as for years now I have
Was this being, ancient, quiet, lonely.
But a tiny voice, silvery, spoke in my head and chest
Ringing, quite clear, two voices yet one.
And, a pattern I seem to be prone to, I argued with him.
Who are you? I am God. No you ain't. Yes I am. [etc]
Why do you look on Dagon? Do you like him better?
Well he looks bit grumpy, so I reckon not.
Anyway what do you want? Please don't do that.
Oh I got to. Its called smoking, either I smoke or I swear.
I see. But what do you want?
To know what you are. And what do you want?
Well keep the noseyparkers away till I had this fag.
Here if you're God, what happened to King David?
Him? oh, he died. Do you covet that crown?
Not exactly. But no-one knows how he gets a son
To come back, what with everyone being dead, you see.
Perhaps you covet to be a king, a ruler?
Hm, well no. Unless I can be a Hippie type king.
In that case I put it in you, to keep it for me.
Okay, said I, complete idiot, I'll pass it on to the regular man
When he comes. Why can't I see you?
Because I am invisible. Perhaps I am unpleasing.
Well how do I know you ain't the Devil?
You don't. What happened to that Angel?
Oh I sent him away. He was a mistake.
He has got a very hard face, maybe you should have been nice to him?
So you like my statue? I never ever, ever type never
Saw such a wonderful statue. Its the work
I declared with real sincerity, of an absolute Master!
[And I still think so, too]. I made it you know.
This is when we really rowled. I insisted
That a man made the thing he said no it was him.
Then we argued about the name; he said its a hobby
Then he blew me away. He said he made the room!
Worse, especially for me; and got all the exhibits!
He asked me if I envied the Angel or the statuemaker?
We managed to get mad at each other for an hour.
O dear strange God, I am sorry.
What a perfect brat to go about annoying God.
He said, I made all that matter, and yes I argued
About science and all that when we paused
I suppose we'd run out of breath; and he laughed instead.
So I grew crafty. I suddenly asked him for prophecy.
And demanded all of it! [cos I had him down
As a little God, with not much to give, so I needed the lot]
'Why? what prophet shall you be?
Oh I want to win the lottery and be rich!
Which, a filthy rich or a clean prophet?
Oh filthy rich. I promise to give it back.
[Secretly planning to keep it and win lotteries
and pass exams forever; and yes deep down
I wanted to be a God too. What a cow.]
Then he said, but you may never come back.
So we also argued about that. Idiot girl.
I said he must be forgiving if I came back in 50 years!
Because I was determined to return next day
Just to win the argument. And as I got to my last fag
I suddenly wanted to know his name.
Another rowl. He said his name was 'L'.
In my tiny world that was daft, and of course
Being me I gladly said so. He then asked me
Can you bear it, all that sight? oh yes,
Being filthy rich is dead easy. But then, he said,
You could become God. Is that what you really want?
Now it was. But I had the grace to say
If I do I shall be a Hippie type God, just long enough to fix things.
A Hippie? That's very strange.
Oh its us Hippies will save the world. Hippies are great!
We got real music. Its called pop! And we love trees too.
It sounds quite wonderful, said strange God.
So I thought of singing him a pop song
But couldn't remember how they went
Since my mind suddenly filled with these old hymns instead.
God that was frustrating.
One day said strange God, you shall see me.
The only one who ever really will.
I said, [ghastly kid, no really], I still think you got a silly name God.
And you said, perhaps. But not at all like yours.


Donkeys years later I remembered. I tried to get back
Several times, some faint homing instinct. But never did.
So true is your word, O strange God.
All those years meeting Gods, recalling the frightful histories,
Seeing and seeing, broken over and over again.
But I did fight the good fight, telling them all
What I knew; over and over, making them see
The difference between right and wrong.
So give those sweeties half a chance and well..
Better off dead strange God. I didn't half hit them.
And finally got back, there to find
There was no statue ever. No room could be there
Beyond that wall is the street. No floors of that kind in all history
Never mind Birmingham in 1968...
Afraid at last, seeing of my idiocy, my terrible pride
I lay on the floor and cried.
Oh I wept a bucketful; but also for you,
Whyever didn't you strike me dead?
It would have been fair it would have been right
And so I cried all night. Quite loudly, as women do.
Well there's not a single God out there
Who will ever forget what I said. Or the bang on his head
As I said it. Several times each.
Because I remembered in stages...well its a lot
So sometimes I'd kiss it better, then recall something more
and go kick arse in a temper, just as before.
And did I have to be quite so psychedelic in my choice of language ?
So except for you my strange God
I have no friend in all creation.
So now I have remembered it all.
And its not really any of them you know
No its not really their fault at all.
But I don't think we're speaking.
Even though my language is now pitying and friendly.
And oh, I think the king turned up as well
But he's mental; only you can heal him
Poor soul. He's in for an helluva shock.
And so are you; my strange God.
All the Gods humanshaped being queer as weasels
It should be a good party, anyway.
Oh years and years of anguish
They destroy me the evil every night
Yet every morning I rise strong; and so we go on.


And you came and fetched me, I begged you to take it away
Being mortal and afraid of it, being broken with all I know.
And you did what you knew to do; and I urged you also
And now I know what I have to do
And be your clean prophet true; as was your will in the first place
O my strange God.

O let me tell the perfect truth to all who will listen
Keep me away from evil and corruption
Like the pure in heart I see God, always.
Make my words not be clumsy,
For my life is worthless till I do this
Teach the truth I know, and show them you
Accepting of me, my strange God,
And therefore accepting of them, all so injured
Not one sound in his bones, they are all crucified.
The Gods cannot know save I tell it.
The lessers will not see they are driven mad
Till they are given this medicine and comforted.
How shall all these lost men; children male and female
Know that you O strange God, like them. You like them!
How shall anyone know what is coming, and fight the dragon
Unless I tell them? Lend me grace to say truly what is good.
For I must be, and in this hymn I begin,
Thy truthspeller, the foreteller, the Godknower I be
For I know and see and trust in thee.
For Heaven and sanity and salvation and Third History
Begin with this, begin with thee my strange God.


O I see you all the time, always with me
You keep me from sin; though sometimes we have to dodge
And this now is what I feel about my strange God.
You are the helper I never knew
You are gentle and good and true
You have sweet wise eyes, that are blue and yet dark with wisdom.
You are the God of surprise.
I tracked down your name in scriptures
Well after 45 years it was a bit past high time
And there it was. EL. ELOHIM. EL SHADDAI.
Its you, isn't it? you could not be more pleasing, dear.
I remember bits now of the war of the Angels.
Wish I had a few of them now!
And I know you have kept your promise
O forgiver of horrible children, you do not despise girls.
I know at last that I am therewith you
In your holy and secret dwelling, your strange Angel
Walking with you amongst the firestones,
O help me at my task!
Don't let me turn coward and run
Or laze my days in the sun
Lest I miss the hour and destroy everyone!
Guide me to the Ark and help me go!
We gaze speechless upon each other
I float like a bright spark in your infinite mind
Yet you are not frightening. Stay with me!
At my end, let me see your beautiful eyes
Don't let me ever offend you!
Make my mouth and my mind clean
As befits a woman who sees God.
You are Wisdom, and therefore holy, therefore God.
You know what is pity, which is Good.
And so I love you, most dear strange God.
Friend, kind helper, forgiver of fools,
And you can laugh! what more can I ask of you
My ancient and lonely strange God.
My Lord and Commander, sweet Captain
Even my true Friend, ELOHIM. The LORD GOD.