Cone Of Falsetto, By Brian37 (AKA Brian James Rational Poet on FB/META and @Brianrrs37 on Twitter.

He’s minus two
I had to do
Snip snip, at the vet

Get smart, what an art
They doped you up
And I am on the wagon

Satellite dish
For a week
This lion once roared

But now merely squeaks.
Hit the high notes
Audition for Alvin

Chipmunks hoped
Anneplath
Would join them

You wobble and purr
Tipsy drunkard
What are you on?

It must be damn good.
(end)

My male cat named Anneplath (Hybrid name of two poets, Ann Sexton and Sylvia Plath) got the big snip. He is high as a kite really doped up, and that sucks for me, because I am sober now and whatever they put him on, he is happy as hell. Falling down like a drunkard but still happy as hell. I love him, but he looks so goofy with that satellite dish.

“Cone of Falsetto” is a play off the fake spy gadget contraption in the 60s sitcom “Get Smart” “Cone Of Silence”, not for the shape of course, but because both the dish on his neck and the fake spy contraption look so silly in their own rights.

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

Love is like a suicide
It comes in many kinds
You’re scared of it
But obsessed
At the same time
It is your addiction
Your knife, your balcony
Your gun, your cliff
Your bottle, your pills
You don’t want to go
But unless you do
You will never know.
(end)

This is not advocating suicide, it is merely poetic license. It is saying that love can be scary and it hits you many different ways but unless you take the plunge you will never know if it will work.

Oprah’ Magazine, By Brian 37 (AKA Brian James Rational Poet on FB/META and @Brianrrs37 on Twitter)

You get a bullet
And you get a bullet
And you get a bullet
Everyone gets a bullet

You get injured
And you get injured
And you get injured
Everyone get’s injured

You lose a loved one
And you lose a loved one
And you lose a loved one
Everyone loses a loved one

You get slaughtered
And you get slaughtered
And you get slaughtered
Everyone gets slaughtered

You have no safe workplace
And you have no safe school
And you have no safe worship
Everyone lives in fear

And you get gun
And you get a gun
And you get a gun
Everyone gets a gun.

MSU, and theater’s too
Parkland
And Newtown
It’s nothing new

To the NRA
To the NSSF
To the GOP
From the sane people

YOU GET A FUCK YOU!
(END)

I am fucking tired of writing poems after mass shootings. Michigan State University the latest.

Disclaimer: This poem in no way is intended to reflect the actual views of Oprah Winfrey on guns or gun violence. It is strictly mocking the far right trigger happy nutbags who masturbate over an object and care more about that object than the slaughter of our fellow citizens.

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

The parties
Of God
Bath
In blood
Confident of
Picking
The correct
Club
Where the only
Oath is
Faith
Sacrificing
Reason
Seeking justification
Of the subjugation
Of others.
(end)

All the word’s religions followers and the subsects of all think they got it right, and these various clubs fight and kill and war over their clubs and this is not exclusive to the monotheisms of Abraham. Asian and Hinduism also have had their histories of internal fights and fights with external rivals.

Religions do not solve human conflict, they perpetuate it. Now that is not to say it is realistic or at all possible to rid the world of any religion, it isn’t. But it is to say if our species is to minimize conflict we need to put more emphasis on our common needs, such as health, food, shelter, safety, and non violence, and environmental protection, than which club is the correct club.

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.

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

Dear theists
I must state this
When you answer
A question I pose

Can you speak
For yourself
Or say
“I don’t know”

When you say
“God said”
Or
“The bible says”

My eyes turn red
Regurgitate
Old words dead
Hand up your back

The puppet is fed
I asked YOU
Not your God
Do you want me to view

You as a mere bot?
Can you formulate
Your own thoughts
Can you reason

Outside of that book?
Is it, the only you read
Seems that you see
What you want to see

Exactly where is
Your mind autonomy
If you always let God
Speak for thee?

Marionette
Is to be
Strung up on
This fallacy

Needlessly
Hopelessly
Mindlessly
Parroting

Mythology.
(end)

As an atheist, when I debate theists, I really get frustrated with the theist when I ask them what they think on a topic and they say “God said” or “My holy book says”. I am not asking you the opinions or positions of others, I am asking YOU what your independent position is. When you regurgitate the words of others or lines in an old book, you are not formulating your own position, you are clinging to the mythology of antiquity because you fear thinking for yourself.

If you are allowed to think for yourself however, then God should have no problem with you disagreeing with him, or even criticizing him. But what I seen in that book as an overall characteristic of the God character, is that he is not interested in listening to you, unless it is solely to grovel for his attention. He does not ask for advice or wants to listen to your personal feelings outside of worshiping him. It is all about worshiping him.

So when you say “God said” or “the bible says” you are NOT formulating an independent position and you are devaluing your own mind autonomy. You are not you, you are ultimately a mouthpiece, a billboard without the right to disagree or question.