Welcome to my poetry blog. I love reading Plath and Sexton and Dickenson and Maya. But to me, the best poets I have read are the unknows. The giants are great for sure, but the friends and locals and groups are a joy to participate in. I encourage everyone who writes poetry to be themselves. It is ok to have influences, but you should always in the end be yourself. There is only one them, and only one you.

Let words be your canvas, show them the raw you, in all your happiness and sadness. Show them your love of nature, and empathy and kindness, but also make them think, provoke, even blaspheme. The poet’s job to me, is to never be shy or timid, but use every word in your vocabulary to paint the best pictures you can. Paint your sunrises, your sunsets, your romance, your fears. Paint your insecurities, your addictions, your successes, your tears.

This blog is dedicated to my late mother Jane. She was my biggest supporter and never let me fall through the cracks. While she was a bit of an authoritarian growing up, that all melted away in her late years, and we grew as close as any parent child could. We had so much fun with our silly car games and rubber duckies, and counting the trees. And our wordplay games, and our thumb wrestling. And forget Yahtzee and backgammon, she always kicked my…… at that. I love you mom. I miss you horribly.

And also my late best friend ever, Bob. He unfortunately passed away in 2017. He lived in Australia, he was a science geek, and he taught me a lot about debate, and some science. I can only grasp overall concepts, not real nitty gritty details. But he most importantly made me feel comfortable in my own skin. I miss you too Bob.

Then there is this annoying guy from Okleeee homa, who says “tators”, and “videeeaaaa” instead of “video”. And don’t get John started on banjos. He is my best friend and he is always there for me, and I love that redneck.

And also Dwayne, Stacey and Vicki. You saved my life all of you. Thank you.

All poetry posted by me on this website is attached to RationalPoet@brianrrs37, handle “RationalPoet” on Twitter ,as well as “Brian James Rational Poet” on Facebook/ META. And is subject to copywrite on all my pages.

A Special thanks to Brian Sapient of Rational Responders http://www.rationalresponders.com for hosting my poetry thread for so long. Thank you.

AND….. YOU are more than welcome to share this link on your social media. Especially Meta and Twitter, but your own social media too. Any help bringing traffic here is more than welcome. THANK YOU. You may not publish individual poems without my express permission. Any links to my poetry must be credited to me.

This poetry blog may contain some material that may be considered sensitive to some viewers. Reader discretion advised.

Now, everyone, grab your popcorn, glass of wine, and watch me make a fool of myself. Enjoy.

HEADS UP….. THERE ARE PEOPLE MIMICKING MY TWITTER ACCOUNTS……

I only have two Twitter/X accounts. Twitter has now changed it’s name to “X”. So all poetry in this site referencing Twitter is also including the new name “X”.

“RationalPoet@brianrrs37”
AND
“Brian@rationalpoet37”

I have also joined Facebook/META poetry group “Facebook Poetry Society” Under “Brian James Rational Poet”

Also I just joined http://www.allpoetry.com under the user name “RationalPoet37”

THERE ARE MORE PAGES. WHEN YOU GET TO THE BOTTOM OF EACH PAGE, in mice print….. It says “Next Page”. <—-CLICK ON THAT.

NEW EDIT………


A special thanks to Zaylen of “Okay Atheists” on the Discord app, for allowing me to guest host this poetry reading available on their YouTube channel originally aired 5/22/23. Here is the link
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=i_ikCkc7lWE

If you want to leave a comment to any poem, click on the BOLD title of the poem first, scroll to the bottom of the poem, and you should see a field to leave the comment in.

UPDATE EDIT AS OF 11/13/2024. I have a new account at Bluesky Soical under the handle @rationalpoet37.bsky.social .

 

 

Absent of torch, by Brian37(AKA Brian James Rational Poet On FB and @brianrrs37 on Twitter)

She took the one you never had
Her father Bartholdi put it in her hand
Guiding the immigrants into the harbor
How long will she stand?

You, the ancient inspiration
Sea merchants and warships
Towering over the jetties
You guided them out and in

Parallel tug of rope sideways
Vertically, violently up and down
Thumb push puppet
Despite your washboard abs

The scholars of the day
Kept some of the Helios
Tradition mandated it so
Not to rebuild the final say

She took your crown
The tumulus mound
Her epic bereft
Following her father’s death

I’ve seen Lady Justice
Crumble and crash
But that was rigged
Luminaire avoided Lars’s head

In shambles and crumbles
Like salad croutons
Crushed and sprinkled
On the tasteless iceberg

That melted and wilted
You left on the counter
For your weekend adventure
The green olives turned black and red

And when you came back
Limp and useless
Tossed out like rubbish
In the trash can

Where was your head
That dreadful morning
When you decided
You’d rather be dead?
(end)

This poem is based on Sylvia Plath’s “Colossus” and a not really about her dad, but her tragic life and death. She to me is Lady Liberty. Her poetry is my therapy. The ancient statue “Colossus of Rhodes” is what Lady Liberty in NYC is based on. Sometimes he is depicted with a torch, but most of the art I have seen with him, shows him without a torch. Thus the name of the poem.

The alleged ancient statue “Colossus of Rhodes” was reportedly destroyed in and earthquake. “Thumb push puppet” is a kids toy, it sits on a push bottom pedestal, you press the bottom of it inward, and the figure goes limp. The figure can be of a human or animal, but when you release the bottom of the toy the figure stands upright again. I am using the metaphor of Colossus being fragile despite being depicted as strong, and also suggesting that our Lady Liberty, is also fragile too, and while not likely to be taken down by an earthquake, our free society can be taken down by authoritarianism.

Plath’s suicide is also metaphor for me as to art dying. She will never know how free her poetry makes me feel. I wish she were still alive for me to tell her.

Metallica’s “And Justice For All” tour was amazing. It had two rigged statues of Lady Justice and The Statue Of Liberty on both sides of the stage, rigged to wobble and crumble towards the audience. And at another point, a light rig above Lars’s head was rigged to drop one end suddenly and swing just a couple feet over his head. Both events during the concert made people scream because they thought it was real. But this in this poem is saying that life is fragile and suicide is final.

Bartholdi is the artist who came up with the Statue Of Liberty design.

After Party, By Brian37 (AKA Brian James Rational Poet on FB/META and @Brianrrs37 on Twitter)

What are these party favors
The Evangelicals savor?
Why are they so excited
Over the rapture?

They can never give me
A number, as to how many
Friends this deity needs
Seems insecure to me

I cannot take them seriously
8 billion now living,
Billions more in our history
Have died consistently

Some say only 100,000 or so
But the truth has always been
They don’t really know
This mythology really shows

And what does it speak of them
To want our world to end
Genocide of mankind
In order for them to win

Cruel vindictive God
Leader of this mob
If your only crime
Is not falling in line

What will go on up there
For eternity, mindless prostrate
Worship of one being
I don’t want to be

Part of such a gang
Violence is their plan
Words of a madman
After party scam.
(end)

Evangelicals are nuts with their End Times rapture garbage. They love speaking for a being they cannot prove exists, but also at the same time cant tell me even a ballpark figure as to how many humans will get into this after party after God fries his toys he doesn’t like and kills all life besides his minions including innocent animals.

And that means outside this vindictive narcissist’s click, everyone else has to suffer for the “select few” to go up to heaven to do what? Kiss his ass forever? If this alleged being is “all powerful” it should not need anything, including worship. If it needs anything, including worship, then that is a deficit making this alleged being incomplete, thus not “all powerful” or “perfect”.

We live in a very violent universe, with exploding and collapsing stars, asteroids, comets, black holes, supernovas and such. And on this planet we have had had 5 mass extinction events as to which 99% of life is now extinct and what we see today is only 1% that survived.

An average of 50 to 60 million humans die from everything every day, from in the womb, stillborn, in childhood, all the way up to old age, and death from disease, famine, war, crime, death from everything.

That alone says to me there is no super cognition helping humans and if we want to help humanity, only we have that power. But to stick in this sick story of claiming the only way one can have happiness forever is for everyone else to die violently and be tortured forever for not kissing this being’s ass, is sick.

The good news is such a sky monster does not exist. The bad news is that there are humans wanting this self fulfilling prophecy to happen. That mentality is a threat to my existence while I am alive.

Sacred Places, By Brian37 (AKA Brian James Rational Poet on FB/META and @Brianrrs37 on Twitter)

The masses lavish you
With praise, lavish you
With worship, build
Houses for you

That should be safe
Places. The churches
Mosques and Synagogues
For prayer and friendly

Faces. These sacred buildings
Should be fortresses, impervious
To threats of violence, bombings
Mass murder, stabbings, even

Acts of nature. Hurricanes
Tornados, flooding. Allegedly
“All Powerful”, yet you’re selective
Or you watch and do nothing

While these faithful die
In your house, while it burns
From hateful bigots. Is their labor
Not worthy, their time, your glory?

Are they just props, in your play
The destruction your game
All buildings the same
Your rage you won’t tame

Or could it be, these places
We see, have no powers
To be, and humans just need
A mere fantasy?
(End)

In my lifetime I see tons of stories of holy places being destroyed in acts of nature, and acts of violence.

You are reading this particular poem because one of my favorite poets and followers here Ellie, was terrorized in a church by men wielding knives who damaged their musical instruments but did not hurt anyone. Fortunately she is ok. So this is a poem I wrote from a personal perspective because it pisses me off that someone threatened and terrorized my friend.

Now having said that, please understand this is also for me, strictly about how logic works, and I don’t hate a fictional being. I am merely arguing against the logic as to why people think objects such as buildings have some magical power, when it is obvious with events like this they do not.

I hope they catch the fuckers.

Steam, By Brian37 (AKA Brian James Rational Poet on FB/META and @Brianrrs37 on Twitter)

Darting thoughts
Dragonfly hover
Dreams dwell
Under the canopy

Coiled tongue
Springs out
Sticking fancy
On the page

The reader
Entrapped
Story rapped
Summer steam

After the rain
Rises from green
Lazy swing
In the hammock

Butterflies dance
Starlings take flight
Sultry day
Leads to night
(end)

Stealthy, By Brian37 (AKA Brian James Rational Poet on FB/META and @Brianrrs37 on Twitter)

Recalcitrant
Lying in shadows
Scent of prey
Night’s display
Panther’s claws
Tiger’s jaw
Cobra’s bite
Venom’s knife
Scorpion’s life
I found my love
Whom I thought of
White olive dove
Branching out
Peace to me
Easily stealthy
Crouching ready
My knees queasy
Desire uneasy
I was not sturdy
Both in a hurry
Crash on the sand
Ocean’s command
Island we land
Lust at hand.