No Imagination, By Brian37 (AKA Brian James Rational Poet on FB/META and @Brianrrs37 on Twitter)

They so falsely claim
Beauty, compassion, empathy
Bounty, plenty, endless stream
Of fruitful life, then comes their knife

To cut down scrutiny, to them
It is mutiny, to create uncertainty
To question their deity, jealous entity
Vengeance to follow, their love is hollow

They so falsely claim, their book is true
How could we do, such harm to this
All powerful being, we are so mean
Our minds are obscene

To challenge delusional dreams
They shout and scream, of thus they deem
Evil deserving of death, take our last breath
The earth they will clean, inherit the land
Almighty’s command, they the chosen

They so falsely claim, their stories are true
Like the six day earth, and a magical birth
Before the flood myth, Gilgamesh was it
Egyptian first born, God killed to see fit

She bears maul kids, Philistine’s foreskins
Are David’s dowery to him, Saul asked for a win
The penalty for rape, she must marry him
God still fries the planet in the end

I look at the scope, of the endless cosmos
I think of how small, we really are
On this rock, so remote and far
In a galaxy of billions our sun just one star

They so falsely think, our species the center
Reason in their minds, it dare not enter
Their comforting lie, their only banter
No imagination, science they cant hear

Pessimistic somewhat am I, skeptical of humans
Who don’t want to try, to find real answers
They dwell in the past, they seek conformity
They are God’s puppets, no mind autonomy

I would like to hope, we can escape
This old way of thinking, and win the day
Answers found, based on fact
Ditch angry Gods, leave them in the past.
(end)

Batteries Not Included, By Brian37 (AKA Brian James Rational Poet on FB/META and @Brianrrs37 on Twitter)

You are just a shell
You need his magic
Batteries, believe in him
Or burn in Hell

Forget free will
He wrote your script
Before you were born
Batteries not included

You are just a toy
Novelty Roomba
Blindly programed
At birth

Because you are only worth
Blind obedience, blind faith
Your soul inserted in you
Your body is it’s cage

Absurdity on every page
Written by ignorant men
Didn’t know way back then
At night where the sun went

My skepticism wont relent
I refuse to live under threat
Of a monster in the sky
Vengeful and extremely bent

Nothing was inserted in me
Except for DNA, evolution
The real way, my ancestors
Were not dust or clay

“Soul” is a meaningless word
Actions are observable
Empathy compassion, while alive
Are the only things admirable.
(end)

I find the entire idea, that I am some factory product from a sky monster absurd. That cheapens reality to me. It puts me in as a mere toy, a prop, something to be used and suffer for the glorification of a vengeful narcissist.

This isn’t saying I am angry at God, I am not angry at Darth Vader either. If our consciousness or “soul” as superstitious people like to claim, then why do we never see beheaded humans come back to life?

I say skip this nonsense and accept that this is the only life you get, and enjoy it, and be kind to others while you are alive. There is no need to live under fear of old mythology, or Orwellian authoritarian sky dictators. Not believing in a soul or a god does not make one evil. It does not mean we will barbecue your kittens. It simply means we atheists see our good attributes as a species in our evolution.

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

In suburbia
I grew up in
A shoebox
Townhouse
Teachers were
Both parents
Authoritarian
The basement
Stereo and Tv
My only friends
Bullies lurked
Outside waiting
For their punching bag
A childhood
I am glad
Long gone.
(end)

My childhood sucked. I did not have my first real friend until high school Both my parents were authoritarians. My father was an abusive alcoholic. My mother long since shed her authoritarian bent in her old age, and we became as close as a parent child could. I only wish she had been that parent growing up. I do know that she protected me a few times against my asshole father.

My adoptive father died when I was 11 I think, I was glad he died looking back at it now. My neighborhood was full of nothing but bullies, and as I said before, I did not have my first real friend until high school.

I would not want to live my childhood again. But I am not angry or bitter about it. It is long since over. I would say however to parents, what you may see as merely being “tough” on a child to “prepare” them for life, they can internalize and end up having self esteem issues, insecurity, anxiety and trust issues that they can carry for the rest of their lives.

Children are not “one size fits all” and they are not clones of you. I think it is better to explain things than to bark orders and shout “Obey me or else!” Also be willing to listen to a child. Nobody is saying let your child have no rules or boundaries, just that there are children who respond better with mutual communication and are merely asking for clarification, and are not being defiant.

And to boys. It is ok if you are not the biggest kid on the block, you don’t have to be buffed up and muscle bound. If someone is beating you up for fun, they are the assholes. It does not give you the right to get revenge or do worse to them. I would recommend simply, especially now, if you are having problems with bullies, talk to a teacher or trusted adult figure, if it seems your parents are not attune to your plight.

Most importantly, it is ok to be you. You may have to live under the rules of your parents while you are under age, that part you cannot escape for most. But know that it will not always be like that, and you will be old enough to do things on your own eventually.

If you are being abused, physically beaten by a parent that is NOT OK. Seek help from a trusted adult who is not causing the abuse. There are help websites and support groups on line. If you feel your life is in danger it most certainly is ok to call 911.

Placid’s Mirror, By Brian37 (AKA Brian James Rational Poet on FB/META and @Brianrrs37 on Twitter)

The rage of calm
Prefaces the storm
Deceptive serene
Whitecap waves

Unseen
Yet to crash
Against the shore
Jetties shaken

To their core
Tested as never
Seen before
Not yet unleashed

Energy stored
Palm trees bend
To the floor
Sand dunes smashed

Violence unleashed
Barrier islands
Vulnerable screams
Nightmare’s dream

Boats that are
Merely moored
Tossed about
Docks destroyed

Bombs of wind
Blow up beach houses
Matchbox splinters
In the sandbox

Placid’s mirror
Is not to trifle with
Save your life
Get out of it’s path.
(end)

Obviously about hurricanes.

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

Bedighted
Life is full
Of delight
When sought
Though arrows hit
Sometimes
Sadness inevitable
In these times
But the clouds
Never stay
Bright
Are many a day
Pin prick sparkles
White dots adorn
The moonlight sky
The warm embrace
Of a loved one
Makes it worthwhile.
(end)

Call It Something Else, By Brian37 (AKA Brian James Rational Poet on FB/META and @Brianrrs37 on Twitter)

Call it something else
This you, your personality
Your neurological pathways

Your life events,
Your rises, your falls
Your humor, it calls

Call it something else
You deserve better
Than to assign “you”

Your core, your being
To be detached, somehow
Floating, like a ghost

Separate than you
Yet in you
How can this be true?

Don’t cheapen
Your existence
Don’t pretend

That you are
Some doll
Batteries inserted

By a cosmic hand
And call it a “soul”
You are worthy

Of a far better designation
Than some antiquated
Mythology

You are you
You are tangible
Knowable, seeable

You have no soul
You don’t need a soul
You are you

And that is very real
You are very real
You make you special

Call it “you”
Because that
Is the only you.
(end)

There is no such thing as a “soul”. You are your brain in motion combined with your live events that have shaped you, and your neurological pathways, your personality. Don’t cheapen your life with a superstitious gap filling word. You are beautiful without angry God/s or old mythologies.

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

Alienated
Most are
To our finality
Our mortality

We cannot see
Our novel’s
Last page
On this short stage

We cannot see
Our concert’s
Last note
Our species remote

We cannot see
We are the movies
And the credits
Always roll

At the end
We don’t want
To see the end
Yet there is always an end

The passenger jet
Takes off the same
And lands the same
For first class and coach

We should not be
Estranged to this reality
We should only live
The one life we know we have

An infinity of groveling
To one being, is as frightening
To me, as a petty God
Torturing me forever

I want neither
There was a serenity
I was not aware of
Prior to my birth

My lack of existence
I can safely say of then
Was painless, a void
I wasn’t living in

I highly suspect
I will not recollect
Anything
After my death

And I am fine with that.
(end)

This poem is not saying life is worthless, or to kill oneself. Just the opposite. This is the only life you get, you had no pre life, there is no afterlife, so take advantage of the one life you know you have.

What Is Love? By Brian37 (AKA Brian James Rational Poet on FB/META and @Brianrrs37 on Twitter)

Conceived in the eye
Amorous moonlight sky
Wanting always
To be by your side

It is not of bloodshed
Based on jealousy
The plague of otherism
Blinded churning seas

Tempest vengeance
Relentless massacre
Only to be
A temporary master

It is not love
But lust of power
The slaughter of
All outsiders

It cannot be
Our history
It cannot be
Our legacy

Masters rule
They have no love
For questioning
No love for reason

Such a deity
To force itself on me
To live under threat
I must obey thee

I cannot
I will not
Live under
Such tyranny

If your God
Thinks this of me
That I am his toy
His property

This is not love
This is the behavior
Of a childish schoolyard
Bully.
(end)

“Obey me or else” blind worship, are the demands of dictators, tyrants. If you want me to believe in a God who will burn me for eternity if I don’t want to hang out with him, fuck him. I cannot stand bullies. Fortunately for humanity such a petulant schoolyard bully does not exist. Unfortunately far too many people want such a being to exist to justify the subjugation of others out of their own insecurities and fears.

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

The bustle of flickering
Headlights, and taillights
Traffic lights, storefront lights
Nightlife

I sit in awe of these paths
Countless as the shimmering stars
With their own agendas, lifespans
Knowing that act 5 scene 5

Is still the final outcome
And you Anne, did yourself in
Even after knowing, just once
What it was all about

Was the Charles river poisoned
What was actually gone
In the morning
When you woke up?

Nothing, except you
You didn’t have to Anne
You didn’t have to
Why did you?

Time was short enough.
(end)

This is an ode poem to Anne Sexton’s poem “Just Once” but it is also an anti suicide poem. Anne Sexton unfortunately killed herself in 1974. If you are having thoughts of suicide, get help. There are suicide hotlines, 988 is one. http://www.helpguide.org. There are people who care.