Sunday, November 26, 2017

Lucy



Of course I believe it's true
Why? 
Don't you?

Of course not
Only an idiot could believe that
Frogs don't become princes you know
Never in a million years could all that be possible
Archeologists all agree
Every biology textbook is clear
Just ask your friendly neighborhood geologist
They'll tell you
Frogs don't become princes
Never in a million years

But what about The Book?

What about it?

It's His. And He says it's true.

No, it doesn't say that. And it's not "His".

Yes. It is.

No, it is most certainly not "His"
You've been brainwashed to think that
Religious people invented the "Book"
They chose it to suit their imaginary theodicy
They just wanted to overpower the weak and vulnerable
It's all a power struggle, that's all
That Book is just like every other book on earth: humanly crafted
You can't magically turn a human book into a Divine One
No matter what you call it
Frogs don't become princes
Not even in a billion years

But what about all the devout worshipers across the globe?
And all the miracles from above?
And all the apparitions? 
And all the answered prayers?
Do you think they all believe in fairy tales?

Unfortunately, yes
But cheer up
Not everything is gloomy just because that One turned out to be a joke
We humans still get to craft our own destiny
For a long time there has been hope dawning at the end of another tunnel
The tides have turned considerably since those ancient myths of His became facts
The four rivers flow westward now, to where our seeds were planted and nurtured a century ago
All the trimming and grooming over here is finished
Faithful groundskeeping is all that's needed now
The trees are fully grown and bearing fruit each year
Pleasant to the sight of all, and good for food
Some now even say that its fruit is able to make one wise
The Mythicists even crafted a clever little ditty in that regard:
'Rejoice all ye lands and do not look grim
With oodles of time on our side
And laws of Nature to guide
Myriads of self-purposed mutations later
And with only One common ancestor
Frogs actually did become princes and without any need for Him'
Despite tiny inconsistencies here and there
We no longer feel the need to challenge those who guard and keep our garden
Such ditties are kind of charming, actually
And it rhymes



11/26/17







Friday, November 24, 2017

Drugs of Choice




Why should You be worshiped?
You see them boxed in, lonely and terrified, tormented and gasping, yet You do nothing about it
The rape behind the curtain
The brain swelling in the infant
The Omnipresent One prefers to dine while watching the film It made
We foolishly accept Your distractions to placate the wrath of your disciples
Butter, brewer's yeast, and sea salt are the drugs of choice

The Omnipotent One just stares into the cold, dark night
You--the Holy One--You can command legions to come to your own aid at any moment
Yet not to theirs?
If I should worship You, then make me believe
I'll give You forty minutes to respond favorably
Yes, I would like some salt
No, I brought my own sweets, and I don't particularly care if I'm not supposed to tell You that

Forty-one minutes later...

What kind of a pathetic Deity would pass up such a sublime opportunity?
Even if You did exist, I wouldn't prostrate myself before You
Where were You when I needed You most, anyway?
It's like this every day--the same torturous imaginary bullshit every day
You're the one who invented torture, aren't You?
You do all of this just because You can
Or, maybe, it's because You can't

Is that it?
You think You're the greatest, but You're really just a poser, like the Devil
Or maybe You are the Devil
Can You even hear me?
I said that's what You are--the Devil
I am the real God of me
And to prove it, I'm going to live my life without You

I will spend my life promoting Science
The true source of our knowledge--at least, what we can know, anyway
And I will make peace with Your ridiculous devotees by calling myself an Agnostic
I will study the book You dropped out of heaven, and Your disciples will learn how hopelessly inept they are as long as they cling to You while listening to Me
Instead of being brainwashed by Your "good" and Your evil, they will learn to focus upon the truth
Their only moral obligation will be to follow that truth wherever it leads
If it leads some sick poodles back to You, we will show mercy, as long as they are merciful
But with the froward we will show ourselves froward

That is the best scientific means to keep the peace
In due time--hopefully not another billion years--the good news will be settled
And Our kingdom established
The most important task at hand now is to quell Your soldiers and set Your captives free
Free to do whatever they want within the limits of Our gospel
Free to be like You
For Science knows of no boundaries other than the ones Our peers review






11/24/17











Between Two Worlds

In the beginning was no end
Days, hours, minutes are there, so we are told
But there is no end
Like a crushed record
Shattered into pieces
We found her by his side from the very beginning, with no end in sight
Five pillars supported her stars
Ten words made us, but they weren’t good enough
Seventy bullocks and seven generations later we started getting it right
At least we thought we did
Pour the chalice over and onto us if you must
Let the dust soak it all in to form your new mud puppet to play with
We’ve all been waiting for this day
Raise the war-bow to remember no more so that Hosea’s children will be justified
Do not spare us just this once
Let the waters above crack open and shed down hailstones
Light our vigil candles below 
Prepare new globes of fire within the firmament
If we must have our cadavers back, then just say a word and our soul shall be healed
Form our glass with your lightning and scatter the ten thunderings across the sea shore one last time
Leave broken what is broken, shells and all
Ditch the glue and fill the week with one more evening—just one—and we will become wise






11/24/17






Knowing God



We all pretend to know but we really don’t
We certainly can know but we won’t
Our careers depend upon imagineering 
Our friendships demand it
Our identity is it
So let’s think for ourselves as we watch them lounge to the Netflix of dogma and genuflect to the magisterial bestsellers that kindle fire
We know it’s not true that we don’t know anything, otherwise why tweet?
Admittedly we don’t know everything, but that’s what democracy is for
She knows there is a difference between knowing and pretending, but she doesn’t know the principle is the same

We are told that in dying we shall die if we count equality with God a thing to be grasped
Isn’t this contrary to everything we know?
Where was God in the tsunami?
God is perfectly good, she says
He is omnipotently, omnisciently, omnipresently good
Even if God is good, isn’t it obvious that the way she portrays him isn’t?
We know the winds do not actually obey his words, otherwise God would be the author of tsunamis
We know that God must return in the flesh again to make the wind obey his word, making all things good again
His feet must touch the mount before he can be our judge, our lawgiver, and our king
Only then will every one of us know, and bow to his omnipresent, omniscient, omnipotence 

She knows this world is not yet as it is in heaven
We certainly know what heaven is not like
It’s not like earth where we are like gods
We don’t even need test scores to know that she pretends
Total depravity only makes matters worse
They say that if any man—save Jesus—or any woman—especially Mary—could live sinlessly, even by God’s grace, they know they could qualify as the Messiah and steal the glory due to His omnipotent name alone
Don't they know God is dead?
We know this is heresy
She knows it too, and they still believe that empire of truth in which every Adam lives
We, however, are under grace, not law

Sometimes she even pretends to be pretending, so that even when we know that she doesn't know a thing, she doesn’t want others to know that we know that she doesn’t actually know
For if she didn’t at least know with boldness and confidence, how could she help all those around us with so much uncertainty?
She must pluck the firebrands out of the fire, and then they too will know
It is heresy for her to be wrong
When she repents—if ever that happens—that will be a sure sign of her total depravity
‘She always was the harlot,’ will be our refrain
They know that the only incarnate thing in life—at least the one that is without stain—is the good book, as long as the Apocrypha is not considered
Even the Creed knows this much; ’We Believe’ is our standard for perfect unity
Just don’t tell that to the Council of Chalcedon, or the iconoclasts, or Monothelites
Rethink one jot or tittle of the law or the prophets, and no more Jesus for you; no more bread and wine from her

She knows that one cannot be known if one doesn’t confess that Jesus is an impotent monarch, enthroned in the heavens, awaiting that final trumpet blast
That’s when he, too, will know it is time to finally come in glory to judge the living and the dead
Hell is for those who don’t know what she knows, and she knows that not even Jesus still knows the day or the hour
Don’t pretend you don’t know about the parenthesis of His plan
Don’t pretend that the signs aren't everywhere
Don’t pretend that we won’t get this flesh back 
We know that is gnosticism, so away with the Atheists
Away with those who pretend to know that the end was really the beginning
Away with those who say, along with Hymenaeus and Philetus, that the resurrection is past
Away with those who reduce history to a guess







9/20/17


Thursday, November 16, 2017

Reaching God






Eyes open and no thoughts about it 
It sees me
It knows me
Eat the fruit and you will know
Plan A was life 
And plan B was life too
Drink the cup and you will know it
Draw near to it
Neither supra nor infra can change it
That's what Nietzche said lawyers are for
Fire and hail, snow and ice, tempestuous winds make life worth living
Just stub your toe and that all changes
Dust was plan A
And there never was a plan B
Procreation seems so cruel
Without eating the fruit
Who would know?
The grass withers
The flower fades 
And we know it
We beget and more is known 
And they know it too
Clement said that jealousy and strife have overthrown great cities and uprooted great nations
How blessed and marvelous are the gifts of God
Eyelids close to think about it
The tree is me 
The tree is you 1










This is a poem I wrote on 9/08/17, shortly after being exposed to the amazing poetry of Anne Sexton.