Call Me Arrogant? By Brian37 (AKA Brian James Rational Poet on FB/META and @Brianrrs37 on Twitter/X)

Why do you call me arrogant
I am not the one who is belligerent
Why do you call me defiant

You say God will make me compliant
You say he will show me someday
“Or else” if I don’t see it his way

To bow to threats I refuse to play
He takes my autonomy, I have no say
In the fire, tortured forever, I lay

Lets take a long look, at this old book
The King’s rook, for centuries mistook
Magical claims , out of ignorant minds

Talking donkeys, talking bushes
Talking snakes, unicorns fake
Six day earth, mere fanciful wishes

Murderous God, Egyptian firstborn
Genocide flood, excuse? “I warned”
8 left over on that fictional boat

Of inevitable incest I would not gloat
Then the baby, the followers all hail
No second set of DNA, their logic fails

If one were to murder a man in that manor
If one were to stick a spear in his side
If all the blood drained out and ended his life

Hypoxia is asphyxia of the brain
No more oxygen for it to gain
No live cells in it will remain

The brain will die, the oblongata too
Rigor mortis the morbid menu
Lowest point of gravity, blood collects to

Body stiffens like petrified wood
You cannot tell me, your logic is good
That after a day and a half he was in the mood

To leave the cave, I am not that naive
And spare me the argument
Of the eyewitnesses please

None of the Gospels agree on the details
None of the writers used their real names
None of the “historians” that apologists claim

Ever lived during the character’s life
None the books were first hand accounts
Hearsay assertions, no evidence mounts

You want to lecture me, call me arrogant
You’re the one stuck in the past, refusing to
Update your thinking in a modern world

You want me to abandon reason, and that is absurd.

Our species older than human writing
Yet since it’s invention perpetual fighting
A 4 billion year old planet, constantly changing

Five mass extinctions, yet you are insisting
That this Bronze age buddy in the sky
The one you can’t prove, for are willing to die

A 13.8 billion year old massive universe
Yet you condemn me with myopic curse
Falsely assuming I have not read a single verse

You start with an assertion, presupposition
Then shift the burden of proof
Insist that it is my mission

To do you your work for you
Which I will not
The harsh reality for you

Not one lick of evidence have you got.