Need To Adjust, By Brian James Rational Poet on FB/META and @brianrrs37 on @Twitter)

I find no need
To follow such seed
I put no value
In holy people’s collars
The True Scotsman fallacy
Makes everyone right
And everyone wrong
Depending on point of view
Here is what
I think humans should do
Leave mythology behind
Tribalism must die
Killing over
A “hero” in the sky
(end)

The Last Scoundrel, By Brian James Rational Poet on FB/META and @Brianrrs37 on Twitter)

The slick apologist
Will always insist
I am not interpreting it

Correctly, that the verse
Story, allegory, is metaphor
Not to be taken literally

Oh how convenient
Their interpretation
Matches their desires

Never mind that others
Can read those same words
And come to different conclusions

And thus all the confusion
Who gets to decide
The words that reside

Under the same book
Where anyone can look
And read the same thing

Yet no one can agree
And the sub sects
Are never in harmony

Homosexuality
“Abomination”
Thrust on thee

But ignore the
Shellfish, be selfish
With blended fabric

Who gets to decide
Out of all the factions
What is meant as a story

And when to take
Literal actions
I am just saying

This argument isn’t swaying
“Metaphor” is a dodge
To avoid the hodgepodge

Cobbled book. Ambiguous
Enough so that anyone can
Make it say what they want.

We three roommates be
Were in great need
Of a place to bed

So you query
What’s your worry
Ok, I will

Tell you our story
Our landlord
Gave us a great discount

On this pad we had pounced
But unannounced
And to our surprise

A lion walked in one day
Weeks after we arrived
It followed us around

So we we complained
She was passionately
Insistent that it stayed

“It won’t growl
It won’t bite
Don’t you fret

Get some sleep tonight
It doesn’t growl
It doesn’t bite”

I said, “It does seem
Friendly enough
I can scratch his belly

Ruffle his tuft
But what happens
When things get ruff?

What if he gets
An infected tooth
What if he gets

A splinter in his paw
What if he’s got a fever
Doesn’t feel good at all?”

I was worried
Danger would befall
Shredded to pieces

I wouldn’t exist at all
And so too, that apartment
I was, we were, through

Then a sound something
Faint, maybe mildly louder
I don’t remember

I do remember Howard
And I joking about
The 3 way

That didn’t happen
In the Penthouse Forums
With that redhead scientist

As we packed
The moving van
As we left

I do remember
Pulling back my blanket
In such a foggy manor

Boy I’m glad that’s over.
(end)

This poem is about a real bizarre dream I had right before writing this. Howard the character from TBBT was in my dream, no I didn’t have the
TV on during my dream. My other roommate’s face I never really saw.

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

I could buy the pair of you
A Satin scratch post
And diamond incrusted
Food dishes

Ok, no I couldn’t
But it wouldn’t matter
If I could, you two
Wouldn’t bother

My little angel Kelly
And my Jet Lee
Dark poet
Anneplath kitty

You love being silly
Tunnelling through
The soda box empty
Ambush the game

A combat range
The root beer bunker
What could be funnier
Than to watch you plunder

Easy to amuse, I’ve lit the fuse
The funhouse, cardboard
Until you flatten it
As flat as a wafer

It is your caper
Until worn out
And it wears you out
Until you curl up

On my bed, next to me
Tuckered out. I’m glad
I found, your funhouse
No need for a rubber mouse.
(end)

My cats love tunneling through my 12 pack empty root beer boxes, it is their favorite toy. Problem is they don’t understand that if they flatten it they cant play in it, so I have to frequently get up to make it stand up again.

 This Outsider, (AKA Brian James Rational Poet on FB/META and @Brianrrs37 on Twitter)
 

He’s always on “your” side
Isn’t he? Most certainly, definitely
Forget the adversary, who says the same

How confident you are, willing to kill
Unwilling to see, your adversary will
Kill you too, through and through

The ravings of antiquity, in tribal states
Devine right of kings, get you to follow their fate
And they hand their hate, down to you

Mesopotamia has these three
Knives cut throats so easily
Books justify their actions properly

That dove scurries and hides
From all of you, seeking the submission
Of others who, don’t follow you

The caldron of confidence is obvious to
This outsider, who wants nothing to do
With your petty gods, who cannot do

Without enraging you, and you kill
Hoping it will, finally get you, everything
You hoped for, your honor is due

But it never does, does it? Endless wars
In his name, the battle of insecurities
This deity blames, it all on you

He is the parent with 3 kids who
Sticks swords in their hands, and
Demands you stab,  put them on a slab

And the last one standing, gets to
Hang out with you, somewhere above
What a reward this is, is it not?

You win the grand prize, all others are lost
Thrown in the pyre, at his pleasure
You did his bidding, and you feel better

So take your knife, take your gun
Start your holy war, have some fun
But me, this outsider, I am done. 
 (End)

I always stipulate that I believe most people are good. But unfortunately our species is also tribal and religion is the biggest cause of war throughout human history.

A Twitter follower of my calling himself “ZacksMind” said this

QUOTE @ZachsMind “The perceived good of religion does not excuse the bad that is evident. Anything good or bad that can arguably be credited to religion can also be accomplished secularly. We. Don’t. Need. Religion. At best it’s redundant. At worst, it excuses suffering.” END QUOTE.

I agree. We see other species convey acts of empathy and compassion and unfortunately cruelty too. To say because we can build sky scrapers and create cures for disease does not negate that we can also rape, and murder and create nuclear bombs. We are the only species that is capable of inducing our own worldwide destruction knowingly.

To think that there is a super hero in the sky that cares for us, but lets us suffer, and blames us for our own suffering, and cherry picks who lives or dies, and ultimately we still die anyway, seems inefficient and ham fisted and selective and arbitrary.

But when one takes the idea of a super hero out of the story we call life, it forces us as a species to solve our own problems. It also takes away the excuse to use religion as a justification to oppress others.

I do not say this as a call to force the end of religion, as if I could or wanted to. It is simply a call to reason, a call to consider that maybe you only think you need religion.

I would argue that if one is willing to admit someone outside their religion/sect can be good and do good, that they should consider that religion isn’t doing the good, the individual is and simply attaches it to a religion.

Codswallop, By Brian James Rational Poet on FB/META and @Brianrrs37 on Twitter)

Is codswallop
A dollop of sour cream?
Is it a screen door
On a submarine?

Seems absurd
From what I can glean
I don’t think
I am being mean

Is it a taco
Made of broken glass?
Is it a talking donkey
Or burning bush ash?

Is it a man
Living in a whale?
Is it the hollow threats
Of burning in hell?

Is it a man
Pierced in his side?
All the blood drained out
Until he died?

Why is it this God
Won’t go on Maury?
Prove it isn’t Joseph
Take a paternity?

Testy testy
You seem to me
Why are you crying
About blasphemy?

If you say
He is this boss
If I am a toy
That he could toss

Out like garbage
It would reason
He could manage
To fight his own battles

What kind of damage
Could I do to?
This all powerful being
How could I destroy him?

Yet you jump in the ring
As a third party
To protect him
My chances less than slim

According to you
I am bug squashed
Under his shoe
What could I do?

Codswallop
Are unicorns too
Loc Ness Monster
And Big Foots do

Fancy the minds
Without science review
Yea, you can believe it
If you want to

But expect not of me
To accept it as fact
Expect not of me
For evidence you lack

Daises made of
Pixy dust goo
Codswallop
All the way through.
(end)

Tick Tock, By Brian James Rational Poet on FB/META and @Brianrrs37 on Twitter)

I cant find slumber
At this overnight hour
Tick tock
The time devores

Wait a second insomnia
The pillow my enemy
The tv
Incumbers

The late night comics
Usually put me under
The anticipation
Does not hinder

It’s a minute
Then another
I toss and toss
Over and over

Those wool carriers
Are of no help
Fleece time from me
No recovery

My cats both asleep
Dreaming of pouncing
Tick tock
The clock denouncing

Pacing on
Relentlessly
I’m jealous
Of their serenity

Curled up
Side by side
Of my desire
The clock wont abide

At least they’ll rest
And wake up fresh
Tick tock
This night’s a mess.
(end)

An obvious poem about my insomnia. I look at my cats in peaceful bliss and am jealous. Usually by trying to deliberately stay up for the late night shows I fall asleep and miss them because I am trying to stay awake, if that makes sense. But sometimes that does not work, and I end up not being able to sleep at all, but not because of the tv or anything, but anxiety for feeling stupid or feelings of being judged, even if irrational, keep me awake.

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

The specter of shadows
The scrutiny of others
The worry consumes me
The anxiety smothers

It slithers around
In my brain
Gripping my attention
I can’t assuage

The needless distraction
The trap has sprung
The planted doubt
Claims to have won

It pesters me gleefully
In my brain seemingly
Gripping my attention
I can’t assuage

I can’t manage
The random thoughts
I don’t want them
To cause more doubt

The specter of shadows
The scrutiny of others
The worry consumes me
The anxiety smothers

Landmine garden
I’ve grown so well
Pestering thoughts
On such I dwell

I fashion a maze
Without a pause
I cant assuage
The root cause

I want it to go
But it just grows
The worry consumes me
The anxiety smothers

I try to convince myself
I can put these feelings
On a shelf, but they keep crawling
On my bookshelf

Go away, turn the page
Stop pestering me
Anxiety, let me assuage
Let me breath, if only a day.

You are the gnat
Buzzing around in my head
Go away
I want you dead.
(end)

Sometimes I dwell in my anxiety, and it just pesters me, it is hard to shed sometimes. And the logical side of my brain knows I am blowing things out of proportion, but I have had anxiety issues my entire life, and I have to accept it will aways phase in and out, and can only be something I can manage, not cure. It usually goes away after a while, but it is frustrating when it is happening.

You Don’t Have To Be, By Brian James Rational Poet on FB/META and @Brianrrs37 on Twitter)

Jeni,
You don’t have to be
Jerry Seinfeld

Richard,
You don’t have to be
Dickenson

Her wise words
About living under
The microscope of fame

Your sitcom did not gain
You were somebody
Before you got sold that game

That if you fail
You are worth less
If you fail

You are worthless
You didn’t try
Didn’t try your best

Yes you did
You made me laugh
At my time of despair

On a dark path
It snapped me out
I came about

You had the talent
You had the art
You were there for me

Before I fell apart
You didn’t get that start
But that is ok

You didn’t have to
End your life that way
I wish you had chosen to stay.
(end)

This poem is an ode to the not well known comedian Richard Jeni. Unfortunately he got depressed because his career did not take off like he wanted it to. His sitcom got cancelled and that pushed him over the edge. He will never know how he snapped me out of a deep depression after a woman broke up with me because of his “Love Songs” act. He was a great comedian, and if he had only been able to do bars or local his entire life, he still would have been a great comedian.

Emily Dickinson also wrote a poem “I Am Nobody, Who Are You”, a very short two stanza poem about the drudges and downside of being in the spotlight.

The most important thing to me is mental health, go for what you want in life, who knows. But also know that the higher up you go the fewer spots there are. And there are far more talented unknows who will never be nationally/internationally known than the ones you know.

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

I am Monroe
From that San Francisco
Home

I am Steve
Carl
Got no reprieve

I am Skippy
Could never woo
Malory

I am Vera
I worked in
A diner

I am Penny
Of questions
I don’t get many

I am Furley
Lonna ran from
In a hurry

I am Maxwell
I want 99
But accident inclined

I am Aunt Clara
Never gets it right
My magic such a fright

I am only Bosley
Never get a Kelly
Never get a Jill

For I am really clumsy
I am always awkward
At any given party

In school
I never played
Any sport at all

If on my street
I’d be the last
The guys would call

I couldn’t carry a tune
I could sing a note
I sounded like a strangled cat

Had gotten stuck in my throat
I didn’t move up
The economic ladder

In my head
Far too much
I listened to the clatter

The cacophony
Of everybody
Imposing on me

Their judgment
Of what they thought
I should be

Now that I am older
Now that I am retired
I am no longer mired

In the whims of others
I am not bothered
By their banter

I am Monroe
I am Steve
I am Skippy

And I am happy
I am Vera
I am Penny

And I am happy
I am Furley
I am Maxwell

And I am happy
I am Aunt Clara
I am Bosley

And you can accept me
The way that I am
If that is not good enough

I don’t give a damn.
(end)

I am not going to give too much of this poem away. This poem mentions several TV characters in mostly sitcoms, but basically the not so beautiful people, the dorky people, the awkward people, the ordinary people. If you want to guess which shows I am taking about, please do.

But it also sums up my childhood, and teens and even my early 20s. I still to this day feel out of place somewhat. Not in the same way, but far more accepting of being myself rather than trying to fit in. As the Huey Lewis song goes, “Hip To Be Square”.

To leave a comment, on this poem, or any poem, click on the BIG BOLD title at the top of the poem. The poem will re appear but then when you scroll to the bottom you should se a “comment” box to submit a comment.