God the mother of all, our breast

Bright prospects for 2010 to my friends everywhere

God the mother of all, our breast

God the golden penis

God the sweet peach

God the sacred flower

God the mystery inside

God the unknown land

God the orgasmic release

God the desert at night

God the heaven

God the hell

God the coming together

God the coming apart

God the eye

God the swimmer

God the drowned

God the competent

God the fuckup

God the asshole

God the expanding universe

God the universe of choices

God the choice

God the old hat

God the ruby slipper

God the Kansas

God the threesome

God the adored one

God the idol

God the real

God the actor

God the stage

God the trees at night

God, who was, who is, who will be

God the umbilical cord

God of the forest

God the priest

God the vessel

God the guardian

God the four elements

God the alien

God the gigolo

God the clown

God the mouth

God the food

Joanna Wiebe

(for Tim)

(The drawing is something I did in pen and ink for my mother in the 1970s; she recently returned it to me. So last month,  I gave it to my friend David for his 75th birthday)

2 thoughts on “God the mother of all, our breast

  1. Ma’am,

    Why do you ahve anger with God. There is no need for it. Taking the Lord’s name is not something one should play with and I ask that you take a look at your life and understand that there is piece with Christ Jesus.

    Nothing in life can ever come close to God’s love for us and the fact that He offered His son as a sacrifice for our sin debt, an act that can’t be competed with. Even if you don’t love God, He still desires for you to know Him.


  2. Your poem, God the Mother of all, our breast, really resonated with me, at least most parts of it. I see it as a call to dialog with God – as Job did in the Old Testament: with integrity, candor and intimacy, even during the most distressing parts of life. I love how you “pray without ceasing.” We are made to engage with the ineffable during times of praise and worship, and also in times of fear, doubt and despair. Your poem is an honest example of the wide range of human conversation with the divine. I especially appreciate how God is always there to nurture us. As the mother of all, our breast, God is our source. As our food, God sustains us and gives us life. Beautiful. We are truly blessed.

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