Fragility, By Brian37 (AKA Brian James Rational Poet on FB/META and @brianrrs37 on Twitter)
I see you’ve worked hard
On that Tinker Toy, Lincoln Log
On that train set, the details
Of the crossing lights, station house
The people milling all about,
You sit in your tree house,
You invite your friends
The tea party never ends
Easy Bake Oven, GI Joe
Your security blanket
The stuffed animal
Brings you slumber
Such confidence they give you
This innocent dream state
Is a wonder for many a parent
To watch over and foster
You care for such toys, and will
Fight in a sandlot, in your sheeted
Bedroom fort, scream, kick, punch
Anyone who damages your toy
Such a brave defender, I see your corpses
Littered through time, in petty confidence
Fragile narcissism, with amazing weapons
Not dreamed of yet, but competing for
And your soldiers have names, your dolls too
Allah, Jesus, Yahweh , Vishnu, live in your
Sandlot, your doll house, your train set
Your Tinker Toys, your Lincoln Logs
And you still get sick, you still die
You still hope for a hero in the sky
A night light, a security blanket
But it is yet only you, sucking on your thumb.
Now I am the bad guy, evil skeptic
Out to barbecue your kittens, I must be,
I must want you arrested, tortured, for what?
And this is the rich part, picking on your God?
I thought I was a midget, a toadstool, pond scum
I thought there was nothing I could do to hurt him?
Didn’t he tell you he had infinitely huge muscles?
Couldn’t he quite easily make quick work of me?
And that Kung Fu grip, and cartoon abs, he could
Most certainly bench press infinity times nothing
Yet you still get mad. Is that Tinker Toy rusted?
Did I tip over your Lincoln Log, your sand castle?
Mean, vindictive, bully you call me? Ok fine
Lets assume that for a second. How about this?
What if, you had a family member or friend
Who went around every day, claiming this?
“Serena Williams beat the Chicago Cubs
In the Stanley Cup”, wouldn’t you ask them
“What’s up?” Wouldn’t you be the slightest curious
Of such repetitions of the absurd and spurious?
I am fine with toys and sand castles, and dolls
Up and until the adults infect lawmaking with them
To the point since they are on a diet, I have to be too
No, not in a free society, then it is not up to you
I will not live under your Barbie, or GI Joe
I will not live in your sand castle, simply because you dig it
I do not have to sleep with your stuffed animal
I do not have to ride your train, your toys belong to you
But they do not, and will never , write our laws.
Like many of my other blasphemous poems, this is not saying I hate all religious people. It is aimed at the theocratic bullies. The theists who insist you live under their religious laws. And yes, know it can even offend my liberal theist friends too. But even then, I don’t want you looking at this as hate. More like having a best friend, or a family member or a co worker, who says something that makes you want to pull your hair out, not because you hate them, but you are miffed, even when you love them.
I think most human beings are good. But as I keep saying, just because one thinks a religion does good, it at the same time, causes far too much division, even under the same umbrella label between different sects. Human rights will always be a given to me, but claims do not deserve taboo status to never be questioned.
“Question with boldness even the existence of a God, for if there be one, surely he would pay more homage to reason, than to that of blindfolded fear” Thomas Jefferson.
“I distrust those people who know so well what God wants them to do, because I always notice it coincides with their own desires.” Susan B. Anthony.