What God Looks Like to Me

Two days ago I had a conversation with the love of my life Jamaica Osorio ... in my head. I have been asking myself recently about overused words (and structures) in my poetry. All to challenge my language, my craft, my heart. One such overused word is "God" an other religious rhetoric. Reminding myself that words are symbols, I am selling mine so short of what they represent. I want my words to be less symbolic more merging, more transcendent.

Nevertheless, this resulted in,in my head, my love challenging me. Asking, as if in response to reading a piece I have written, since i mention "god" so much in my poetry...what is it that god looks like to me.
My response was the following...




A fiery night turned scorched evening in Brooklyn
A homeless person stands over
a hallowed turbine canister for heat

A man, wall street all three piece suits
And shoe sole covered
with other peoples dreams
walks over freezing

The homeless man shifts over
Never even looking up
They stand over the fire
Both shivering

Neither of them saying a thing

That is what God looks like to me