• Welcome to Brian James Rational Poet’s poetry blog

    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 .

     

     

  • On A Tear

    On A Tear, By Brian37 (AKA Brian James Rational Poet on FB/META and @brianrrs37 on Twitter)

    I am here
    I am there
    I can’t stop
    I’m on a tear

    At full speed
    My second cup
    My thought’s unleashed
    I’m on a tear

    I am everywhere
    Twitter, Facebook
    And this blog
    I cant stop, I’m on a tear

    Writing of cats
    Writing of marriage
    Writing of politics
    Writing bad jokes

    I’ve dropped the jug
    It’s done broke
    Scattered thoughts
    Contain them not

    Have you ever
    Ever thought
    The breaks are gone
    The jailbreak is on

    I’m on a tear
    Beware, beware
    I’m never done
    I’m on a tear.
    (end)

    I am full of energy and writing like a hummingbird right now. Better than not being able to write at all.

  • Grand Kittyfied Theory

    Grand Kittyfied Theory, By Brian37 (AKA Brian James Rational Poet on FB and @brianrrs37 on Twitter)

    Schrodinger
    Must have
    Not known
    Better

    Poison in a box
    Where does he
    Get off
    Making such a fetter?

    Just like
    The Second law
    Just like we all know
    Gravity to the ground you go

    If you have a puddy
    You already know
    That bed is theirs
    Not yours

    They’ll sprawl on it
    You want the couch?
    You might as well
    Forget it

    If they sleep
    In your lap
    Forget getting up
    For anything

    They’ll caterwaul
    At the break of dawn
    They want their breakfast
    It’s your wakeup call

    They’ll slalom
    Around your legs
    If you trip from such
    It’s the price we pay

    They want in
    And out every day
    A paw under the door
    On the throne they’ll play

    Privacy?
    No way, no way
    Grand Kittyfied Theory
    It’s their game

    We have to face it
    It is a fact
    They own us
    We love their act.
    (end)

    Fun poem for cat lovers.


  • Till Death Do Us

    Till Death Do Us, By Brian37 (AKA Brian James Rational Poet on FB/META and @brianrrs37 on Twitter)

    Apollo 13
    Was not
    A failure
    In the least

    This utopia
    Couples get sold
    In youth
    Before they meet

    The tuxedo
    And lace train
    The vows the
    Refrain

    The white frosting
    The bouquet tossing
    The garter belt
    Slung

    It all sounds fun
    But once it is done
    They face the mundane
    The bills and babies

    And then the bitterness
    Because you were taught
    This was a cure all
    It would solve all your problems

    Then when it did not
    You argued and fought
    Lawyers you sought
    The nuptials for not

    Then the bitterness
    The resentment
    The hating
    The seething

    And even the scheming
    To crush the other
    As if it were
    Sunnis vs Shiites

    Apollo 13
    Was a success
    They all made it back
    In the ocean they splashed

    It is never a failure
    To love while it lasts
    To face reality
    In case of a clash

    Communication
    Is the key
    Forever isn’t always
    The reality

    Honesty is best
    When your feelings change
    It may hurt
    You may feel pain

    But it is far worse
    For both involved
    If you live a lie
    Side by side.
    (end)

    I don’t hate marriage, I was married once. But I do hate this attitude passed down to generation after generation, that if you don’t get married, or you don’t have kids, somehow you are a flawed human being. And if you do get married you are a failure as a human being if you get a divorce.

    My attitude is the same, even with just friends. People can and do change over time, even with mere friends, and people can and do drift apart or their feelings change. It does not have to become a war.

    I look back on my wife telling me she didn’t want to stay married to me. That hurt like hell. But she knew it was hurting me, and I know she hated hurting me, but I appreciated her honesty in any case. She didn’t hold any bitter feelings to me or me to her. In fact she actually got her friends to help me move out of our apartment to my new one by myself. AND she invited me to Thanksgiving dinner despite our separation and divorce.

    We have grown apart since and we don’t talk anymore, but that is not out of hate or bitterness, just a matter of moving on. I still have fond memories of our time together. She is a very brilliant woman, and super intelligent. It has been 20 years since our divorce, and I still wish her well.







  • Contrast,

    Contrast, By Brian37 (AKA Brian James Rational Poet on FB/META and @brianrrs37 on Twitter)

    My eyes gush
    Leaking tears
    Like the broken seal
    On swimmer’s goggles
    A rising tide of pain
    And it matters not
    The bright sunlight
    Bursting rays of color
    Into the flower garden
    I only see tombstones
    In a graveyard
    While ignorant birds sing
    (end)

    This wasn’t inspired by any my love life today. But nobody ever forgets getting dumped or the pain of being told by your spouse they don’t want to stay married to you. It sucks.

    It can be the most bright and sunny beautiful day and you still feel shitty and dark inside. Good thing though, and sometimes it may feel hard, but time really does help one move on.

  • Don’t Tell Me

    Don’t Tell Me, By Brian37 (AKA Brian James Rational Poet on FB/META and @brianrrs37 on Twitter)

    I held my words in silence
    Afraid of criticism, scorn
    And especially ridicule

    Then at the bar, that night
    I had been scribbling
    On a napkin when

    The man in the black hat
    Asked me what I was doing
    I told him I was writing down

    Ideas for a poem
    He asked me to read it
    I refused out of fear

    It wouldn’t please him
    But his coaxing
    Was not worth resisting

    So I read him
    The raw words
    I had scribbled down

    On the napkin
    And just like that
    We were kin

    He invited me in
    To a poetry group
    That met once a month

    I was petrified at first
    When I showed up
    How could I stand up

    In front of them
    I felt like an amateur
    I wouldn’t get far

    This was not the case
    My trepidation
    Was misplaced

    Of me they did embrace
    I was relieved and overjoyed
    I had finally found a place

    Where I could sound my voice
    Where I was welcome
    Where spoken had no choice

    If you showed
    You knew you would read
    What you wrote in front of you

    And everyone wanted you
    To read more and more
    It was feast to be adored

    But outside that gathering
    Incessant blathering
    Of blowhards

    Who know nothing
    Of depth of emotion
    Imagery and art and poetry

    The haters misery
    They’d call me a loser
    And tell me constantly

    Everything I wrote sucked
    Better off in the landfill
    My words, they’d try to kill

    Even to this day
    I have those who try to say
    Give it up, you schmuck, you suck

    To them I’d look in the eye
    Without compunction
    I don’t give a flying fuck!

    What you think
    You ignorant twit
    I write quite well

    Without you nitwit
    So don’t you tell me
    I should quit!
    (end)

    A long time ago, before I joined that poetry club, I kept my poetry a secret because I feared judgment. But a guy named Sam Hurst, I met at a bar, and he coaxed me into reading a raw poem I was writing. And he told me I should join a local poetry group.

    I was scared shitless to say the least. I feared being laughed out of the group. But no, they embraced me, and that is when I knew my words were worthy.

    Now mind you. I can still look back on some of my work and think “That did suck”. BUT I don’t think because I lay a dud here or there, that I should quit. No! I look at my poetry a lot like a high speed camera photographer takes pictures. It isn’t the volume that matters, but the fact you do it so much you it is impossible not to take that one picture everyone loves.

    To my fellow poets. NEVER STOP, and never be afraid to lay a dud. Never assume because one person doesn’t comment on your work, means other people cannot like anything you do.

    I have a very simple rule to ALL poets. JUST DO, don’t worry about “critics” or “haters” or assholes. Just do it, you wills strike gold with people. YOU WILL. You may not get rich doing it, but “GOLD” to me is making someone else connect with you, or feel empathy with you, or get joy with you, or feel pain with you. It only takes one poem to do that. So keep writing. FUCK THE HATERS!

  • Knock Off The Dust

    Knock Off The Dust, By Brian37 (AKA Brian James Rational Poet on FB/META and @brianrrs37 on Twitter)

    The confidence

    After ruins

    The rise after

    The avalanche

    The fractured bones

    The shattered jaw

    The pain of rejection

    Impending fall

    Out of the crater

    You slowly crawl

    To once again

    Tower tall.
    (end)

    This isn’t about domestic abuse, but it could apply. It is basically and overall theme of overcoming any harsh adversity in life.

  • Not a poem, but one of my favorite singers.

    If you have never heard of her, she didn’t get as big as I thought she should have deserved. Lori Carson is a soft sullen heartbreak indi/folkish singer who sings about bad relationships and pain and staying strong through it all. I am normally not into that style of music, but Lori Carson’s album “Shelter” from 1990 is very emotional and powerful and I get goose bumps listening to it every time. Hopefully the following link works, here is one of her songs

    It has a very sullen slow start but the beat and tempo picks up and the mood changes from heartbreak and defeat to a call for strength and is inspiring. It takes a lot for me to like a song from a style I am not into. That to me is what makes a song/artist most impressive and talented.

    https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=h6YHtIxv4KA&t=7s

  • Virtuous

    Virtuous, By Brian37 (AKA Brian James Rational Poet on FB/META and @brianrrs37 on Twitter)

    If I told you
    To drive your car
    With a blindfold on

    Would you?
    If I told you
    The pilot

    Of your passenger jet
    Just got their license
    10 minutes ago

    Would you? Would you?
    Get on it? Would you
    Be confident, Would you

    Feel safe? Well that is
    The absurdity of faith
    I don’t call it a virtue

    I call it intellectual laziness
    The fear of being wrong
    The fear of the unknown

    Hiding behind ignorance
    Rather than kicking the tires
    You seek candy canes

    And the ragdolls of childhood
    Because the shadows of night
    The fear of being finite

    Lead you to buy
    A comforting lie
    I understand

    You don’t want to die
    Neither do I
    But I do try

    To find the truth
    Not what some old book
    Antiquity sold you

    Why should it
    Why should it
    Frighten you

    To know the earth
    Is a globe, not flat
    To know the flood

    Is a myth, and no
    I do not claim
    Such absurdities

    That a monkey
    Gave birth
    To my mother

    I hold my statement
    You’re about to read
    To be solid and sturdy

    “If our species
    Never questioned
    Social norms”

    “Our species
    Never would have
    Left the caves”.

    It is not the end
    It is not
    Doom and gloom

    To figure out
    The formation
    Of our moon

    Our species
    Did not
    Go extinct

    When Galileo
    Told the truth
    Despite his punishment

    By the church.
    Facts are worth
    Evidence and proof

    I find no virtue
    In fearful ostrich
    Sands.
    (end)




  • The God/s Warriors

    The God/s Warriors, By Brian37 (AKA Brian James Rational Poet on FB/META and @brianrrs37 on Twitter)

    Confidence

    In clashing

    Justified in bashing

    Their might is epic

    Their certainty directed

    Their tribalism obsequious

    Their subservience prostrate

    Whatever periwinkle they propose

    Worldwide destruction is their goal

    They turn beauty into coal

    The crimson confidence of fools.
    (end)

  • Stagnation

    Stagnation, By Brian37 (AKA Brian James Rational Poet on FB/META and @brianrrs37 on Twitter)

    I open a new page
    Type in a title
    By line follows

    Keyboard silent
    Pause, type, backspace
    Pause, type, backspace

    Keyboard silent
    Tv goes to ad break
    Seems like 20 so far

    Enough time
    To scale Pikes Peak
    Keyboard silent

    Pause, type, backspace
    That artifact hiding
    In the wood box

    In the National Archives
    At the end of Raiders
    Indiana has buried it

    Keyboard silent
    Bathroom break
    Must be 5 today

    Pause, type backspace
    Title needs tweaking
    Seems out of place now

    Keyboard silent
    Topics illusive
    In the fog filled forest

    It won’t lift
    Stubborn stagnation
    Is my inspiration dead?

    Sylvia, I know
    All too well
    That stillborn

    That taunting keyboard
    Elusive muse
    The poems refuse

    To show themselves
    Invisible ink of spies
    They refuse to come alive.
    (end)

    This is about when I get worried if I am going to write another decent poem again. Sometimes I get really scared that I’ve covered so much that I’ll run out of things to say. And when poetry is pretty much the most important thing in my life, it is a really scary place to be, even if brief.

    The references in this one are a couple. At the end of Raiders Of The Lost Ark they box the Ark and put it in a giant warehouse where it is implied that it is lost to time. And when I am have writer’s block that is how I feel trying to find something to inspire me and write about. It is an elusive feeling.

    And the “Sylvia” reference is about her poem “Stillborn” which is about writers block and stress of trying to care for your poetry like they are babies that die in birth, and never quite come out right.

    I have been having this feeling for the past two days now. I have been recycling already printed poems I wrote long ago to try to keep things fresh. This poem is new today though. But it isn’t the first time I have written about this topic.