On the Genesis of "God"

Thanks all. Inspiration is often inconsequential, or more like the tail end of the meteor than the force that drives it (even if the meteor is only the glint of a tinselled light and despite Aristotle); I wanted to write a response to another poem, a poem that claimed, "Now that I'm older, I know God and Love, and they are simple." That "know" infuriated me. I'm an atheist by trade, a mystic by disposition, and a skeptic by heart; it was an offensive statement, in a Socratic sense. "Well tell the rest of us, since in your wisdom your mind has penetrated very difficult matters, what God is, my friend." So the first attempt escaped notice (it was letheia, and not the truth) -- a morbid poem about the world rotting along with the body (and neither the presence of soul). After I had finished, I showed it to my mom -- her lip curled, the doorbell rang. Two young women, oohs and ahhs when our dog escaped through the slip in the door. "We're here with the Church of Jesus Christ" (and Latter Day Saints...I don't remember). We believe in Satan, go away. Chastisement, guilt. My mom ran after them and apologized for what her son said. "Oh," they replied, "He just said you were Jewish". A synonym or Christian charity? Turn the other cheek. So I wrote this poem by way of apology to the God and the religion I don't believe in, the religion whose Bible I actually tossed into a fire (after carefully perusing it, of course, and approving very much -- might as well burn Moby Dick) in the presence of friends, impenitent and lonely in the all (which is really a kind of nothing exuberant). And there you go.