Poetry by Brian37 (poems by an atheist)

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Poetry by Brian37 (poems by an atheist)

I post all over the web, but I want a back up in case my computer or one particular website goes down.

Out out brief Candle, By Brian37

QUOTE WILLIAM SHAKESPEARE MACBETH:"To-morrow, and to-morrow, and to-morrow,
Creeps in this petty pace from day to day,
To the last syllable of recorded time;
And all our yesterdays have lighted fools
The way to dusty death. Out, out, brief candle!
Life's but a walking shadow, a poor player,
That struts and frets his hour upon the stage,
And then is heard no more. It is a tale
Told by an idiot, full of sound and fury,
Signifying nothing.

Here is my spin on that wonderful and profound line:



Out, Out brief candle, By Brian37

To-deities, and to-gods, and to-God

Creeps in this petty tyrant from day to day

Until the extinction of humanity new ones will be invented

And all our yestergods have been created by fools

The way to tribal death. Out out brief myth

Claims are but a walking shadow, a poor reflection

That struts our narcissism upon the stage

And then is heard no more. It is a tale

Told by the credulous, full of sound and fury

Signifying nothing.

 (END)

To all reading this thread, you may spread the link to this thread BUT YOU DO NOT HAVE MY PERMISSION TO POST INDIVIDUAL POEMS! Brian Sapient the owner of this website is full aware of my real name and my physical address. You will not get away with passing yourself off as me! ALL POEMS IN THIS THREAD ARE SOLE PROPERTY OF THE PERSON(ME) and may not be distributed without MY permission.

"We are a nation of Christians and Muslims, Jews and Hindus -- and nonbelievers."Obama
Check out my poetry here on Rational Responders Like my poetry thread on Facebook under BrianJames Rational Poet also on twitter under Brianrrs37


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Bruised Ego, By

Bruised Ego, By Brian37

 

Upon circumstances

I find myself

In conflict

Over words

 

Sometimes

Both theist and atheist

Will scowl and scorn

My prose as hurtful and mean

 

"Insult" don't do

"Be nice" they claim

Lacking to separate

Claims from the person

 

A person is complex

Holding many thoughts

Not merely that

Of one subject

 

Needlessly personal

Many do take

When all you object to

Is merely one claim

 

One, claim

One subject

One topic

Is not their sum

 

There be not

One person here

Reading this who

Hasn't  thought about others

 

When out of that mouth

Of loved one, co worker or friend

An absurdity

That would make you cringe

 

Did that mean

Because of the utterance

On one subject, one topic

You'd disown them?

 

One day

A decade ago

I had no washer

I had no dryer

 

So down the street

I took my cloths

In my pickup, to the laundry mat

With godless bumper sticker

 

It did not contain

One foul word

Just a website

For atheists

 

When I stepped out

To my sudden shock

Upon reading it, a black man shouted

"WHY DON'T YOU BELIEVE"

 

"WHY DON'T YOU BELIEVE"

"WHY DON'T YOU BELIEVE"

And for what, what had I done

But to merely exist, and express myself

 

So when people suggest

I chose my words

Be kind always

Sometimes it does not matter

 

To that guy

My bumper sticker

Might as well said

"Kill all Christians"

 

And even atheists

Fall for this bit

Political correctness

With good intent

 

No, I say

It cannot be done

To let others decide

What all can say

 

To offend

The highest Imam

In Iran

Can get you killed

 

In that country

Being Christian, or Sunni

Being gay, or atheist

Is certain peril, or death

 

But here constantly

I hear both atheists and theists

Complaining about cussing

And blasphemy

 

And to all these ilk

If the worst you get

Is a bruised ego

GROW THE FUCK UP

 

We can fight

And we can cuss

And we can all go

To bed in one piece

 

Far too many

Outside our boarders

Get murdered

For the slightest dissent

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

"We are a nation of Christians and Muslims, Jews and Hindus -- and nonbelievers."Obama
Check out my poetry here on Rational Responders Like my poetry thread on Facebook under BrianJames Rational Poet also on twitter under Brianrrs37


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Pontiac Silver Dumb, By Brian37

Pontiac Silver Dumb, By Brian37

 

Hitchens, and rightfully so

Blasphemed the concept

Of humanity avoiding

The birth canal in it's myths

 

Taken so seriously

In modern day

The excuse "decorum"

Used to silence dissent

 

On the house floor

Of the state

With pretty lakes

And trees the right height

 

Has taken the state

Once powerful

In music

And motor cars

 

And reduced it

To epic tribalism

To rival the likes

Of the Taliban

 

If these idiots

Went to a urologist

How would their doctor

Talk to them?

 

Mr Phallus

Your thingy

Your noodle

Your wee wee

 

Mrs Taco

Your love tunnel

Your salmon

Your wee wee

 

It would be laughable

If it were a conversation

In a middle school

Or grade school

 

But it has become criminal

To ban a lawmaker

Using a real word

To silence dissent

 

These assholes

Wouldn't care what word

Would offend them

It is the act of dissent they oppressed

 

If there is any hope

For that state

And for humanity

The only cure can be ridicule and blasphemy

 

Those who inhabit

Lancing or Detroit

From Mackinaw Island

And surrounding lakes

 

Is this how you want

To be viewed by the world

To be so childish

To avoid vagina?

 

We know the real reason

It is not the word

The bully right wing

Is threatened by truth

 

It's book blames women

From day one

Treats them like property

To be mere factories

 

When those with vaginas

Refuse to submit

To archaic sexism

The right gets upset

 

 

"We are a nation of Christians and Muslims, Jews and Hindus -- and nonbelievers."Obama
Check out my poetry here on Rational Responders Like my poetry thread on Facebook under BrianJames Rational Poet also on twitter under Brianrrs37


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The Bully's Bastion, By

The Bully's Bastion, By Brian37

 

The act of the desperate

And insecure

Is to set up taboos

And pedestals

 

To honor sightlessly

Undue, unearned

Without the consent

Of those of under that rule

 

Tis the same. by any name

Worship of state, worship of god

All become monopolies

When blind they become

 

Blind to

Those of the least

Wishing to silence

Unpopular speech

 

Such vile a bastion

The bully must have

To keep it's power

At the cost of others

 

 

"We are a nation of Christians and Muslims, Jews and Hindus -- and nonbelievers."Obama
Check out my poetry here on Rational Responders Like my poetry thread on Facebook under BrianJames Rational Poet also on twitter under Brianrrs37


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Capture The Flag, By

Capture The Flag, By Brian37

 

I live here too

Does that

Mean anything

To you?

 

Or do you just care

About brownie points

Killing

For the "parties of god"

 

7 billion of us

No where to go

And you still

Insist on childish sandlot games

 

I live here too

And I am tired

Of your ancient superstition

Mixed with modern weapons

 

Do you really care

Or is it all about him

Your invisible friend

And a glorious blood bath at our expense?

 

I live here too

No more no more

"My daddy will beat you up"

Capture the flag

 

Your mental crutch

You base politics on

No matter the name

Can get us all killed

 

I live here too

So if you really do care

KNOCK IT OFF

No more capture the flag

"We are a nation of Christians and Muslims, Jews and Hindus -- and nonbelievers."Obama
Check out my poetry here on Rational Responders Like my poetry thread on Facebook under BrianJames Rational Poet also on twitter under Brianrrs37


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I

It Is Time To Grow UP, By Brian37

 

He put his hands together

And did like mother told

To thank his deity for his blessings

Before he laid to rest

 

Then she opened the book

It spoke of fairies and flying

It told a tall tale of Peter

And what was the moral?

 

That as you age

You grow up

You face reality

And become an adult

 

The next night

It was dad's turn

He opened another

The story of Bambi

 

It too held the moral

That one eventually

Has to grow up

No matter how painful

 

And on the third night

Mother took her turn again

This time Thing One

And Thing Two

 

But as adults

In our history

In all of our myths

We pass down misery

 

Falsely we call

Our superstitions

Morality and virtue

Our mental prisons

 

Isn't it time

That we grow up

And finally accept

There is no Santa for adults?

 

Tall is the tale

And just as absurd

If Peter does not fly

What of virgin births?

 

If one can accept

Bambi as myth

Then why cant humans

Accept Allah as myth?

 

The evidence clear

From the early caves

To volcano gods

Polytheism and modern claims

 

It would not

Be so bad

If to our young

It was not sold as iron clad

 

If we grow up

We can learn

Xenophanes was right

About the god's of horses

 

So when at night

You tuck them in

While there is nothing wrong

With reading stories

 

The one's we sell

To our kids

Can produce adults

Who murder over them

 

No one dies

Fighting over Peter Pan

No one dies

Over Bambi's tale

 

So we owe

That to our young

No matter the boarders

From whence they come

 

If to read

A bedtime story

Stick to fiction

Avoid holy weapons.

 

 

"We are a nation of Christians and Muslims, Jews and Hindus -- and nonbelievers."Obama
Check out my poetry here on Rational Responders Like my poetry thread on Facebook under BrianJames Rational Poet also on twitter under Brianrrs37


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The Same Cloth, By

The Same Cloth, By Brian37

 

The words

You read now

Are a response

To words from the same cloth

 

At the age of 6

Our mother

Gave me up

Torn from my siblings

 

I was alone

On my street

No one to call friend

No one liked me

 

And just now

After reading her prose

I always suspected

I was not alone

 

Nothing I did

Ever seemed right

Timid I was

To put up a fight

 

Not teacher or parent

Or the kids around

Ever gave credit

To anything I did

 

But older and wiser

I am so now

I know not alone

And never was really

 

It was not until

I met my family

That I understood

Who I was

 

My sister believes

And I do not

But I am glad to know

Two poets exist

 

From the same mother

With the same sensitivity

What she attributes to god

I attribute to genes

 

But such A smile

I now so have

To know for sure

I was never alone

 

So to my sister

Thank you so much

You did do right

Which is making me cry

 

Not out of sorrow

But out of joy

Of knowing we

Went through similar things

 

That you can do right

It often confirms

That we are more alike

Than different

 

When I read that poem

Dear sis

I thought of the pain

I myself went through

 

Cathartic and sweet

So kind are you

You did do right

And I thank you

 

I am proud

Of what you wrote

I am proud

Of calling you sis

 

Dont ever think

You are ever bad

Whatever differences

Others may have

 

Carolynn you are

And will always be

A reminder to me

The same cloth we share.

(end)

 

HOLY SHIT OUT OF ALL THE THINGS I have read in my life as as far as poetry one my sister wrote really hit close to home. We never grew up together, but after reading this knowing the pain of bullying and never seeming to fit in and always feeling like I don't belong, even sometimes today, I still get those horrible feelings. So when my sister wrote about her own pain I saw myself and it is literally making cry right now.

I am so proud of her. We are more alike than any differences we have. The poem I just wrote was for her and to you sis, you really may have no idea how much that poem helped me just now.

 

And as an aside to any theist reading this. stay posted, I have asked her permission to post hers. I am hoping she will grant me that permission.

And another aside to both atheists and theists. This should bury any bullshit about hate of theists. My sister believes and I do not. But we are both sensitive and to my joy she is a poet too. Thanks sis, you really helped me out emotionally. Therapy in poetry never gets old, but it sure is special when it is within family.

 

I love you Carolynn. ALWAYS.

 

"We are a nation of Christians and Muslims, Jews and Hindus -- and nonbelievers."Obama
Check out my poetry here on Rational Responders Like my poetry thread on Facebook under BrianJames Rational Poet also on twitter under Brianrrs37


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Here is the poem she wrote,

Here is the poem she wrote, published and will be in the Library of Congress. It really kicked me in my genes and even now in re posting it, with her permission, once again I am crying. Two poets, opposite sides of the god spectrum, but in full understanding of sensitivity and being bullied.

 

Carolynn C wrote:

In Their Own Minds, by Carolynn C

Hopes and dreams, squashed like bugs on a windshield. This is how it feels to be told that nothing you do is right. A little girl is born, then set aside like a toy on a shelf. Then she is passed around from home to home like some hand-me-down, never in one place long enough to learn who she is. Taunted and bullied by her peers for wearing hand-me-down clothes. She flunked out of school, and can't hold a job no matter how hard she tries. Her teeth damaged by abuse she suffered as a teen, that never got fixed. Strangers see her and assume she is something she's not. They leer down their noses at her. So perfect in their own minds.

I love you Sis. But damn you for getting published before me. Congratulations in all seriousness.

 

"We are a nation of Christians and Muslims, Jews and Hindus -- and nonbelievers."Obama
Check out my poetry here on Rational Responders Like my poetry thread on Facebook under BrianJames Rational Poet also on twitter under Brianrrs37


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Marx and Rand Sitting In a

Marx and Rand Sitting In a Tree, By Brian37

 

The bastard love child

Of utopia sex

One word solutions

Projected on a complex society

 

Is as dogmatic

As any religion

And as destructive

As "In group vs out group"

 

If we are individuals

And diversity is obvious

Then why the limit

To economic either/or

 

Ultimately it takes all of us

And as the saying goes

No society is stronger

Than the weakest chain link

 

Time shifts power

And this is is the time

From religion to class

All should ponder

 

What would we want

As individuals

If, and eventually do

Lose power?

 

"We are a nation of Christians and Muslims, Jews and Hindus -- and nonbelievers."Obama
Check out my poetry here on Rational Responders Like my poetry thread on Facebook under BrianJames Rational Poet also on twitter under Brianrrs37


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Flights of Fancy By Brian37

Fights Of Fancy, By Brian37

 

What if he

Had hesitated

What if he had

Prayed

 

From the time

The birds hit

To the landing on the river

There was no time

 

As he said

When

A reporter asked

"I had no time"

 

Unrelated event

With my mom

We met a doctor

And on his wall

 

Was a painting

Of Jesus behind

A doctor

As if teaching him  golfing

 

His hands

Were "guiding"

The doctor

But this was my mother

 

Why should I give

On living fuck

About the beliefs

Of someone with a knife

 

Just like those

On that plane

Survived

Without the pilot praying

 

If seconds count and so does training

The last thing a professional should do

Is be distracted

By praying

"We are a nation of Christians and Muslims, Jews and Hindus -- and nonbelievers."Obama
Check out my poetry here on Rational Responders Like my poetry thread on Facebook under BrianJames Rational Poet also on twitter under Brianrrs37


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Witless Men, By

Witless Men, By Brian37

 

They are the sure

The oracles and kings

The risk takers

Who make their bounty

 

Only in later years

If lucky to grow wise

Understand the hubris

And downfall of Oedipus

 

The ones who take power

Assuming it will remain static

And the comfort of social norms

Will keep them in place

 

The ultimate hubris

That to be on top

Falsely means

You always will

 

The only moral rule

Is when a power

Knows and accepts

That times do change

 

Humility in power

Is understanding

How to treat others

When we are not the power

"We are a nation of Christians and Muslims, Jews and Hindus -- and nonbelievers."Obama
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Circumvent, By Brian37 To

Circumvent, By Brian37

 

To the Cleric

Rabbi and Priest

What if I slipped

A drug in your drink

 

And without consent

Gave you a piercing

Or tattoo

While you were under

 

"Parent's permission"

You say you all have

"My deity's blessing"

To mutilate kids

 

A girl's vagina

A baby's penis

What a sick ritual

This god advocates

 

How could a baby

Or little girl

Give adult consent

For such torture.

 

What if I

Without your consent

Knocked you out

And cut up your junk?

 

Fuck the parents

Fuck the holy men

We are talking about kids

Who have no say

 

In ancient ignorance

It was understandable

But now we know better

IT IS INEXCUSABLE

 

We do not throw

Girls in volcanos

Nor should we mutilate

Children's genitals

 

Otherwise

If one day

You wake up

In severe pain

 

I'll simply say

I have the right

To my belief

Without your consent

"We are a nation of Christians and Muslims, Jews and Hindus -- and nonbelievers."Obama
Check out my poetry here on Rational Responders Like my poetry thread on Facebook under BrianJames Rational Poet also on twitter under Brianrrs37


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Prose Tempest, By

Prose Tempest, By Brian37

 

Condemned by society

Long before

The assassination

Of Harvey Milk

 

The bohemian

Traveled uncaring rivers

Taking note

Of Parisian Orgies

 

Unknown unfortunately

To those outside prose community

Was one to suffer

Human indignity

 

The imprisoned artist

For his sexuality

The the pioneer

I could never be

 

The tempest is

The one who dares

The Tsunami of thought

Capsizing boats

 

It crushes the ignorant

Who childishly resist

That of change

He did outlast

 

Rimbaud's ulcer

Not of his own hand

The victim of society

The true tempest

 

The truly brave

Not in need of brawn

Need only paper

And that of pen

 

The gasslight's frenzy

I borrow his words

The poet a pauper

Enduring through time

 

This is the kindred

Of the tempest

The ones who shout

And bleed their lungs

 

The brush on the canvas

Writes of the range

From Emily's skepticism

To the depression of Plath

 

Spare not their canvas

Of any ink

Images of darkness

Or that of doubt

 

Turmoil their currency

Reviling complacency

Exposing their depths

They must be tempests

 

They look in corners

Others dare not

Their fearless mirror

Of translating passions

 

Conversations

Of the mundane

Frighten the tempest

It is too safe for them

 

Ordinary lives

Painfully abundant

Few among us

Do rise above

 

Stir tempest stir

Until the scab peals off

Revealing our

Our crippling stagnation

 

Sow us your photographs

Of sonnets love

Sow us your photographs

Of your darkest thoughts

 

Breach me with abandon

Pull out my pain

So I can feel

The full range

 

So that I know

I love my mother

Upon occasion ill

I shout even louder

 

NO NO NO

YOU BASTARD REALITY

DON'T THINK OF TAKING HER

YOU CANNOT HAVE HER!

 

Not from stroke

Or old age

My ultimate nightmare

Of losing her

 

Let me feel

Also the joy

Of my daily phone call

That mother's ok

 

Shallow are most

Who mutter and stumble

Accepting norms

Without thinking

 

Paintings are blood

The tempest creates

Knowing that life

Is hardly mundane

 

I could not live

In such self pity

Of a majority path

Of merely two dimensions

 

When the teens

Talk of makeup

Our when adults

Pine over reality shows

 

I weep for them

For they wade

In the polluted waters

Of the ordinary

 

SHOUT TEMPEST SHOUT

Slit your emotions

Like those mentioned

Above

 

Look at the shadows

And sunsets made

When the tempest

Puts words to page

 

It is to me

The only true way

To value the one life

All should treasure

 

(end)

 

A couple of things inspired this one for me. One was last night talking to Bob about a college professor I had long ago that hated mundane conversations like "that was a great movie" or "l like chicken but not string beans". And both Bob and I agreed that we would rather face life as it is, will all it's suffering, than to live a shallow life in some hopes of utopia.

The other thing I hate about poets, much like the fear mongering "Fox Magic Secrets Revealed" is that honest illusionists don't give a fuck if you know their secrets, and the honest fans don't have less of an appreciation for it if they know the trick.

 

So that is why when people read my stuff I don't mind putting it bluntly what I mean, even if they see something else in it.

 

The "tempest" is the artist, the poet, the one who stirs the pot and does not stagnate in ignorance and looks at the dark side of the world around them, and their own fears. My own in this poem, is my biggest fear of losing my mother. I have not said anything new in human history, no one really can. But when we accept both the good and the bad without fear, we can value more what we have in the one finite life we know we have. The tempest it the person who merely throughout history, the one who reminds us as the saying goes "The unexamined life is not worth living".

I simply feel sorry for most who are limited to cable and TV and rarely find joy or recognize pain outside their own local lives. The artist is the breath of the world, it reminds us that in everything we go through as a species ultimately is all the same, no matter if a painting, or photograph, or a poem. The tempest is the mirror we look in, and most of the time and far too often, don't care to know we have all these wonderful mirrors around us.

 

 

 

"We are a nation of Christians and Muslims, Jews and Hindus -- and nonbelievers."Obama
Check out my poetry here on Rational Responders Like my poetry thread on Facebook under BrianJames Rational Poet also on twitter under Brianrrs37


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A Word A Word, By Brian37 A

A Word A Word, By Brian37

 

A word, a word

Oh what to do

Which one to pick

To capture you

 

To bring you here

Where to be

Any direction

It could go

 

A word, a word

Oh what to do

In want of wander

For you to ponder

 

A word, a word

Which to chose

A word , a word

To capture you

 

Decrepit decay

Or the height of joy

A word, a word

To capture you

 

To expose the ugly

Violent world

By human cruelty

Or natural disaster

 

A word, a word

To bring you here

I could speak

Of childish first loves

 

A word, a word

Which one to chose

If in order

To capture you

 

This is what

The poet must do

Chose their words

To capture you

 

When they do

The image will be

The continuing reflection

Of humanity

 

A word, a word

The poet must chose

To paint the painting

That keeps you here

 

From the balcony

Juliet spoke

Chosen words

Keep us there

 

Hot blood

Spoken of

Chosen words

Kept us there

 

A word, a word

Created a haunting bird

From a man

ALUMNI OF UVA

 

So the word

I thus chose

I dare not compare

To those who did

 

"Timid" is my chosen word

For those who did

Long before

Humble me

 

"We are a nation of Christians and Muslims, Jews and Hindus -- and nonbelievers."Obama
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Drunken Zen Banter, By

Drunken Zen Banter, By Iwbiek, edited By Brian37,

 

Ha Ha!, Oh you poor devil

How can nothing

Burn in a fire

Made of nothing?

 

What will die

To send what

To the fire

You describe?

 

The only fire

Is you our own ego!

Feeding itself the fuel

That consumes itself

 

It could burn

The heavens

Of it's own

Makings

 

If you are lucky

All the devas

Of Trayastrimsha

Will piss on it to put it out!

 

Then the path

To yourself will be

Just through a bit of sump

"Respectful" sump

 

You're caught

You god's-damned baboon!

CAUGHT!

 

But you can

Leave

When you like

Look out your window.

(end}

 

Thanks to Iwbiek's following post, I had the inspiration to take his post and turn it into HIS POEM in response to our resident zoo animal Jean Chalvin. Here is Iwbiek's post I turned into his poem.

Iwbiek wrote:
oh, you poor devil!  how can nothing burn in a fire made of nothing?  what will die to send what to the fire you describe?  the only fire is your own ego!  feeding itself!  the fuel that consumes itself!  it could burn the heaven of its own making!

if you are lucky, all the devas of the trayastrimsha will piss on it to put it out.  then the path to yourself will be just through a bit of sump.  respectful sump.

you're caught, you gods-damned baboon!  caught!  but you can leave when you like.  look out your window.

"We are a nation of Christians and Muslims, Jews and Hindus -- and nonbelievers."Obama
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Wendy, Brian37

 
This moment in time

I did not understand

Why being tough

And accepting self mattered

 


Before I met Wendy

My own youth

My mother tried

To instill toughness on me

 


To sensitive I was

 That my mother

  Merely wanted me

  To face reality

 

So this waitress

Taught me

To stick up for

Myself


One day

A  patron complained

About cold coffee

Directly out of the hot urn

 

  Upon the complaint

  Wendy came back

  To the wait station

  Where employees had gathered

 

And with defiance

  And utter scorn

  Told her story

  Of how the client was wrong


 

“I took this cup

Directly out of the hot urn

And of this same cup

I shall return”

 


And that she did

  And without complaint

  The exact same cup

  The customer drank

 

 
I always admired

Wendy’s guts  and gall

She was never afraid

To be herself

 

 

 

 

 

"We are a nation of Christians and Muslims, Jews and Hindus -- and nonbelievers."Obama
Check out my poetry here on Rational Responders Like my poetry thread on Facebook under BrianJames Rational Poet also on twitter under Brianrrs37


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Thursday Night Cards, By

Thursday Night Cards, By Brian37

 

Since 2005

And before

I moved here

After my mothers stroke

 

That time of life

To keep entertained

Keeps the old ladies

Sharp of mind

 

So every Thursday

At 6:30 pm

At the clubhouse

Of the retirement village

 

My mom and her friends

Play card games I don't know

Or if short on a player

Dominos

 

But mortality

This the second year

Has taken  another friend

We both hold deer

 

Damned old age

Took her friend Joan

Then her best friend

Judy, from when I was young

 

Then Pauline

After Joan

And I always wonder

The affect on my mother

 

This certain player

Would lend me her home

So the clubhouse TV

Wouldn't compete with the game

 

She'd always leave me

Something to eat

From potato chips

Or something sweet

 

And my jokes

As bad as they are

Would put smile

On her face

 

It never gets easy

To see death happen

But the more it does

Numbness a distraction

 

I found out

An hour ago

But could not cry

Though I wanted to

 

It seems that such

The more it happens

Emotions are spent

And may not happen

 

My mother was stoic

Giving me the news

I asked

How she was doing

 

And I could tell

In her face

After all her friends

In the past

 

I knew what

I don't want to face

Not a damned thing you can do

To avoid it

 

As strong as mom is

She smiled and comforted me

Knowing I was worried

About how this would affect her

 

But she is right

About that time of life

And that it happens

To all of us.

 

I will miss her friend

And hugging her

And that stupid garage door

That never worked right

 

But my moms friend

I could tell

From the family pictures

In her house

 

That she was loved

And she did well

And my mom is lucky

To have known her

 

So a gap

Has been created

Thursdays from now on

Wont be the same.

(end)

 

This poem is about one of my moms card buddies who died yesterday. It is the second in two years out of that group who has died. The names you read are not part of that club, but about all the people my mom knows her age who haved died over the past 7 years.

I always wonder how the death of her friends will affect her. But both she and I have been through it so much, as much as you don't want to turn your emotions off, it seems you have to or go crazy. My mom today when she told me, did so with a smile on her face talking about the good of her friend and that she had a long life, and she was doing it to comfort me.

My mom moved out of that retirement village because of mobility problems, but every Thursday I drive her back there. Her friend would let me watch TV in her house rather than have the clubhouse tv compete with the card game.

 

"We are a nation of Christians and Muslims, Jews and Hindus -- and nonbelievers."Obama
Check out my poetry here on Rational Responders Like my poetry thread on Facebook under BrianJames Rational Poet also on twitter under Brianrrs37


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Silent Moon, By Brian37 It

Silent Moon, By Brian37

 

It smiles at us

In pock marked face

Raccoon mask

On bone white

 

Countless rotations

Prior to our frustrations

Or even

Our existence

 

Spawn of a collision

It was born

And in quarter

And half and full

 

Looks down on us

So powerful

Tugging at the seas

And bending our planet

 

We think of our struggles

As so important

Yet the silent moon

Was before us

 

If it could say

It could only laugh

At what we think

Is so important

"We are a nation of Christians and Muslims, Jews and Hindus -- and nonbelievers."Obama
Check out my poetry here on Rational Responders Like my poetry thread on Facebook under BrianJames Rational Poet also on twitter under Brianrrs37


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Silent Moon, By Brian37 It

Silent Moon, By Brian37

 

It smiles at us

In pock marked face

Raccoon mask

On bone white

 

Countless rotations

Prior to our frustrations

Or even

Our existence

 

Spawn of a collision

It was born

And in quarter

And half and full

 

Looks down on us

So powerful

Tugging at the seas

And bending our planet

 

We think of our struggles

As so important

Yet the silent moon

Was before us

 

If it could say

It could only laugh

At what we think

Is so important

"We are a nation of Christians and Muslims, Jews and Hindus -- and nonbelievers."Obama
Check out my poetry here on Rational Responders Like my poetry thread on Facebook under BrianJames Rational Poet also on twitter under Brianrrs37


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Why Sam, Why? By Brian37

Why Sam, Why? By Brian37

 

How can a neurologist

Rooted and trained

In the obvious

Adhere to the superfluous?

 

You bring up Buddhism

Talk about spirituality

And in doing this

I think of scientists past

 

I think of those

Who got some things right

Like Newton and gravity

But failed with alchemy

 

The "End Of Faith"

A book to cheer

"Letter To A Christian Nation"

Surely to be revered

 

But a "sense of awe"

Is all I see

When you say "spirituality"

Conflate nature with excess baggage

 

And this meditation

You hail from Buddhists

That allows them

To endure more than usual

 

Navy Seals

Before they reach

The battle field

Train to endure as well

 

So what is real

Is not the label

But human adaptation

To certain conditions

 

500,000 years ago

There were

No modern social clubs

No Buddhism, Hinduism or Christianity

 

Evolution would occur

If none of those

Had ever

Been concocted by humans

 

Sam, your fans get mad

When I question you

But ethics in science

Requires such

 

If nature

Is all there is

Then study that

And skip the labels

 

Don't give nature

Or reality

Concepts of woo

Born in antiquity

 

 

"We are a nation of Christians and Muslims, Jews and Hindus -- and nonbelievers."Obama
Check out my poetry here on Rational Responders Like my poetry thread on Facebook under BrianJames Rational Poet also on twitter under Brianrrs37


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Words fail .. mind blown

Brian37 wrote:

This poem is about a nutcase woman who was SUPER SUPER jealous that I dated. I had dumped her, but she was so abusive to me I had a nightmare even after dumping her, and one night woke up in a cold sweat. This poem is about that dream.

Subconscious Slave, by Brian37

 

A woman

Who had gone by the wayside

A woman I had once loved

Accosted my subconscious last night

 

She poured gas

On a marble floor

Glaring up at me

With hate

 

A top, I was

On stairs of glass

Looking down

Upon my fate

 

Would she make glow, the marble floor

I had labored in this dream?

As she ran out the front door

And locked me in, I did hear her scream.

 

Vengeance she did want, my projector did convey

For all those times I had flirted

In her eyes

To her dismay

 

Down I ran

Holding banisters

Of chestnut wood

The long journey, a short distance

 

Running as fast as I could.

 

A faceless body

Did appear

At the place

Where I had been

 

From the top

She did inquire

"What trouble

Are we in?"

 

My love of new

I had to save

My love of old

A subconscious slave.

 

This house of white

Composed of many windows

So vast was such this sight

We had nearly froze.

 

Bulletproof glass

Uncommonly paper thin

I did try to break

Forcefully holding us in.

 

Was more than I could take.

 

A run, a smash,

Then we were out,

Police were scrambling

All around

 

Her hands in cuffs

They did place

Never again

Would I see her face

 

My love of new

I had to save

My love of old

A subconscious slave.

(end)

 

 

 

 

 

 

  Words fail .. mind blown

 


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danatemporary wrote:Brian37

danatemporary wrote:

Brian37 wrote:

This poem is about a nutcase woman who was SUPER SUPER jealous that I dated. I had dumped her, but she was so abusive to me I had a nightmare even after dumping her, and one night woke up in a cold sweat. This poem is about that dream.

Subconscious Slave, by Brian37

 

A woman

Who had gone by the wayside

A woman I had once loved

Accosted my subconscious last night

 

She poured gas

On a marble floor

Glaring up at me

With hate

 

A top, I was

On stairs of glass

Looking down

Upon my fate

 

Would she make glow, the marble floor

I had labored in this dream?

As she ran out the front door

And locked me in, I did hear her scream.

 

Vengeance she did want, my projector did convey

For all those times I had flirted

In her eyes

To her dismay

 

Down I ran

Holding banisters

Of chestnut wood

The long journey, a short distance

 

Running as fast as I could.

 

A faceless body

Did appear

At the place

Where I had been

 

From the top

She did inquire

"What trouble

Are we in?"

 

My love of new

I had to save

My love of old

A subconscious slave.

 

This house of white

Composed of many windows

So vast was such this sight

We had nearly froze.

 

Bulletproof glass

Uncommonly paper thin

I did try to break

Forcefully holding us in.

 

Was more than I could take.

 

A run, a smash,

Then we were out,

Police were scrambling

All around

 

Her hands in cuffs

They did place

Never again

Would I see her face

 

My love of new

I had to save

My love of old

A subconscious slave.

(end)

 

 

 

 

 

 

  Words fail .. mind blown

 

I don't consider this my best. It really only reflects our random dream state that can produce really weird shit. How do you light a marble floor on fire? It was a dream produced by my relationship with her combined with my fear of a future relationship being as abusive as she was, it produced a nightmare.

 

But I really am interested if you think it was good, or if when you say "words fail, mind blown" you are being sarcastic?

"We are a nation of Christians and Muslims, Jews and Hindus -- and nonbelievers."Obama
Check out my poetry here on Rational Responders Like my poetry thread on Facebook under BrianJames Rational Poet also on twitter under Brianrrs37


Brian37
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danatemporary wrote:Brian37

danatemporary wrote:

Brian37 wrote:

This poem is about a nutcase woman who was SUPER SUPER jealous that I dated. I had dumped her, but she was so abusive to me I had a nightmare even after dumping her, and one night woke up in a cold sweat. This poem is about that dream.

Subconscious Slave, by Brian37

 

A woman

Who had gone by the wayside

A woman I had once loved

Accosted my subconscious last night

 

She poured gas

On a marble floor

Glaring up at me

With hate

 

A top, I was

On stairs of glass

Looking down

Upon my fate

 

Would she make glow, the marble floor

I had labored in this dream?

As she ran out the front door

And locked me in, I did hear her scream.

 

Vengeance she did want, my projector did convey

For all those times I had flirted

In her eyes

To her dismay

 

Down I ran

Holding banisters

Of chestnut wood

The long journey, a short distance

 

Running as fast as I could.

 

A faceless body

Did appear

At the place

Where I had been

 

From the top

She did inquire

"What trouble

Are we in?"

 

My love of new

I had to save

My love of old

A subconscious slave.

 

This house of white

Composed of many windows

So vast was such this sight

We had nearly froze.

 

Bulletproof glass

Uncommonly paper thin

I did try to break

Forcefully holding us in.

 

Was more than I could take.

 

A run, a smash,

Then we were out,

Police were scrambling

All around

 

Her hands in cuffs

They did place

Never again

Would I see her face

 

My love of new

I had to save

My love of old

A subconscious slave.

(end)

 

 

 

 

 

 

  Words fail .. mind blown

 

I don't consider this my best. It really only reflects our random dream state that can produce really weird shit. How do you light a marble floor on fire? It was a dream produced by my relationship with her combined with my fear of a future relationship being as abusive as she was, it produced a nightmare.

 

But I really am interested if you think it was good, or if when you say "words fail, mind blown" you are being sarcastic?

"We are a nation of Christians and Muslims, Jews and Hindus -- and nonbelievers."Obama
Check out my poetry here on Rational Responders Like my poetry thread on Facebook under BrianJames Rational Poet also on twitter under Brianrrs37


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Brian37 wrote:I post all

Brian37 wrote:

I post all over the web, but I want a back up in case my computer or one particular website goes down.

I gotta say. Most of your shit sucks. Though once in a while I do like one or two of them.

 

Of course, I'm most likely more generous than you would be to my stuff, so . . . to each his own. Wise move though, saving your stuff, unless of course you consider the Google laws against duplicate content. And fucking hell. I learned that the hard way. 

Doesn't matter though. Do your thing, Brain 0.37.

 

 


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The Theist wrote:Brian37

The Theist wrote:

Brian37 wrote:

I post all over the web, but I want a back up in case my computer or one particular website goes down.

I gotta say. Most of your shit sucks. Though once in a while I do like one or two of them.

 

Of course, I'm most likely more generous than you would be to my stuff, so . . . to each his own. Wise move though, saving your stuff, unless of course you consider the Google laws against duplicate content. And fucking hell. I learned that the hard way. 

Doesn't matter though. Do your thing, Brain 0.37.

 

 

 

You came back here and started a slew of posts right after I exposed you on the other website. Sour grapes?

"We are a nation of Christians and Muslims, Jews and Hindus -- and nonbelievers."Obama
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Sarah Elizabeth How Could

Sarah Elizabeth How Could You, By Brian37

 

Today

On your new show

"The Cycle"

You claimed the following

 

That as an atheist yourself

You find us militant

Doing what the right wing does

Treating "secular" as a dirty word

 

Claiming we are intolerant

I found it ironic that I agreed

As an atheist

With the believers on the panel

 

When they spoke of JFK

And John Kerry

Having to invoke

"I will not use my article of faith"

 

When you say

You would never

Vote for an atheist

Because we are "militant"

 

Ayn Rand

Was an atheist

Right up your

Economic ally

 

And you blast

An atheist group

For it's grading

Of politicians?

 

So no conservative pack

Has ever rated a politician

Say the NRA

Or anti abortion pack?

 

And what of your name

By itself

For a conservative

S  E CUPP?

 

You knew

That play on words

Would sell

And that's why you chose it

 

But please Sarah

Explain to me

Because I am an atheist too

Why I am voting for Obama?

 

Since I am so "militant"?

 

 

"We are a nation of Christians and Muslims, Jews and Hindus -- and nonbelievers."Obama
Check out my poetry here on Rational Responders Like my poetry thread on Facebook under BrianJames Rational Poet also on twitter under Brianrrs37


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The Appeal Of The

The Appeal Of The Subordinate Trope, By Brian37

 

The upstart defeats

The alpha male

It's supporters

All do hail

 

Long before

That Jewish Carpenter

Plato sold

The same motif

 

Socrates

Was the questioner

Daring to defy

The authority of teachers, oracles and senators

 

We also value this trope

In sports

When the underdog

Beats the top seed

 

That is the appeal

To this myth

Of a carpenter

Changing the world

 

Oh yes,

The world was changed

It simply replaced

One myth with another

 

Only successful

Not because of any truth

But appeal to emotion

The appeal of the upstart

 

But this fight

Is evolutionary

Not one of magic

Or deities

 

It is why

The young hippo

Or young buck

Challenges the top male

 

Because life

Seeks resources

And the higher up the chain

The more opportunity

 

Plus the sense of compassion

Those same animals

Bullied by the alpha male

Can and do get tired of it

 

But that is all there is

This is the real reality

This is the real reason

We love our tropes

 

And what came after

That successful trope

Of the Jewish carpenter

It became the alpha male

 

And spent 2,000 years

Since

Becoming the bully

Becoming the hypocrite

 

This trope must die

And we as a species

Must understand

And accept mundane reality

 

If we want

The cycle of abuse

To stop

If we want more peace in an imperfect world.

 

The chain will exist

It will always be

But it must be

Viewed without the goggles of myth

 

In that way

We can understand

How to rule

When we have power

 

To rule with compassion

Without superstition

To know that power

Always shifts

 

There will be

Another "upstart"

Who changes views

On social norms

 

So to all in power

No matter the label

No matter the boarder

Always remember

 

Your life is finite

And power is fleeting

The trope of an upstart

Will have no morals

 

If what it does

When it gains power

Is to the least

Does the same thing

 

 

 

 

"We are a nation of Christians and Muslims, Jews and Hindus -- and nonbelievers."Obama
Check out my poetry here on Rational Responders Like my poetry thread on Facebook under BrianJames Rational Poet also on twitter under Brianrrs37


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Mindless Philosopher, By

Mindless Philosopher, By Brian37

 

The tripod slug

The shape of

Police issue

Ammo

 

Carried the secrets

To take down

The planetary

Doomsday weapon

 

Determined

He was

To get that information

To the rebels

 

And his copper friend

Stood by his his side

Even when

He pretended not to care

 

They jettison

To the desert

Of a two sun planet

Looking for the one who could interpret

 

On their heals

Were the Gestapo

In black and white

This little unit did not relent

 

Desert gnomes

Captured them

And sold them

To a young dreamer

 

Those after them

Found the buyers dwellings

Murdered

His aunt and uncle

 

Having nothing left

The buyer

Followed the small

Determined unit

 

They found eventually

The interpreter

Who could fight effectively

Those after them

 

When I think of epics

I can see that the small

Out number the powerful

Don't count them out

(end)

 

This is an ode to my favorite character in Star Wars in R-2-D-2. The title is from the line where R-2 calls C3po "A mindless philosopher"(in the movie it is actually C-3PO) who translates what R-2 says.

 C3PO "Don't call me a mindless philosopher you overweight glob of grease!"

I have always loved R-2

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

"We are a nation of Christians and Muslims, Jews and Hindus -- and nonbelievers."Obama
Check out my poetry here on Rational Responders Like my poetry thread on Facebook under BrianJames Rational Poet also on twitter under Brianrrs37


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Aurora High Tec, By

Aurora High Tec, By Brian37

 

A clock tower

In Texas

A McDonald's

In San Ysidro

 

A Cafeteria

In Wako

A public school

In Jonesboro

 

Death in Blacksburg

And this watchman deserves praise

Not to mention

War and disease?

 

The earthquakes

Tsunamis

And gang violence

Adulation this vile claim still garners?

 

A mile high

Is this lie

That we are protected

From reality

 

That if only we

Pray to the Sun

Or to Allah

Thy will be done

 

Yet death

In all it's forms

In glorious battle

To getting hit by a car

 

To slipping in a tub

Or falling out of a tree

A cop making a traffic stop

Or blood clot in the brain

 

Still happen every day

And our imaginations

Still ignore

Macbeth's activity

(end)

 

The title is a combo of mass shootings. Aurora Co, and Colombine High School and Virgina Tec

 

 

"We are a nation of Christians and Muslims, Jews and Hindus -- and nonbelievers."Obama
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Ok, Brian, I have to say

Ok, Brian, I have to say what everyone else is thinking.

Poetry, yeah.

Uhm.

EVERYONE goes through a poetry stage from roughly when they are 10 years old to 20 years old.

And then you realize, that poetry, at least all the common shit that 99.9999% of people create, is utter shit.  Both myself, and you, fall into this category.   So don't think I'm picking on you.   We're in the same boat, brother.  But you keep throwing your poetry up on here, and FUCK.   Grow the fuck up, dude.   Everytime you post one of your poems I think to myself, "One of these days, Brian is going to...get laid, or grow up, or turn 18" or something.

Are you ten years old?

So the huge majority of us realize, and I wish you would join us here, that it is completely embarassing and retarded to keep acting like a kid and think that anyone gives a shit about our, mine or yours, rambling that we humor ourselves by calling it poetry or some deep insight into the human condition.  

Not working.

Stop it.  Really.

You have to be autistic.   I have a couple of family members that are oblvious with that condition and I can't imagine how you could NOT be a victim.

"I am an atheist, thank God." -Oriana Fallaci


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Attn. Administration

  TWD39 .. This is bull crap!


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Watcher wrote:Ok, Brian, I

Watcher wrote:

Ok, Brian, I have to say what everyone else is thinking.

Poetry, yeah.

Uhm.

EVERYONE goes through a poetry stage from roughly when they are 10 years old to 20 years old.

And then you realize, that poetry, at least all the common shit that 99.9999% of people create, is utter shit.  Both myself, and you, fall into this category.   So don't think I'm picking on you.   We're in the same boat, brother.  But you keep throwing your poetry up on here, and FUCK.   Grow the fuck up, dude.   Everytime you post one of your poems I think to myself, "One of these days, Brian is going to...get laid, or grow up, or turn 18" or something.

Are you ten years old?

So the huge majority of us realize, and I wish you would join us here, that it is completely embarassing and retarded to keep acting like a kid and think that anyone gives a shit about our, mine or yours, rambling that we humor ourselves by calling it poetry or some deep insight into the human condition.  

Not working.

Stop it.  Really.

You have to be autistic.   I have a couple of family members that are oblvious with that condition and I can't imagine how you could NOT be a victim.

Thanks daddy, if it were not for you, I would continue thinking everyone cares. Thanks for setting me straight. You have crushed my dreams, now I am going to go pop myself. BOO HOO, woe is me.

Do you really think you are the first to criticize me? And do you also think that I fancy myself as some sort of Poe? I think if anyone needs a grip you do.

I have been writing for 22 years, and belonged to a poetry group and read my stuff live in front of them. And as with all art, it doesn't have to work for everyone, but all it has to do is work. Now, you don't like my stuff, fine, don't care, that is to be expected.

But if you think I am going to stop writing because you think my stuff is crap, you are giving me a good laugh. Some of it is damned  good, which I will not back off of, and  some of it well, I simply post it because it is part of my history. I never claimed to be Shakespeare. I am me, if you don't like it, you are entitled to your opinion. But you are fool if you think this post will stop me from writing more.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

"We are a nation of Christians and Muslims, Jews and Hindus -- and nonbelievers."Obama
Check out my poetry here on Rational Responders Like my poetry thread on Facebook under BrianJames Rational Poet also on twitter under Brianrrs37


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Watcher wrote: Ok, Brian, I

Watcher wrote:

Ok, Brian, I have to say what everyone else is thinking.

Poetry, yeah.

Uhm.

EVERYONE goes through a poetry stage from roughly when they are 10 years old to 20 years old.

And then you realize, that poetry, at least all the common shit that 99.9999% of people create, is utter shit.  Both myself, and you, fall into this category.   So don't think I'm picking on you.   We're in the same boat, brother.  But you keep throwing your poetry up on here, and FUCK.   Grow the fuck up, dude.   Everytime you post one of your poems I think to myself, "One of these days, Brian is going to...get laid, or grow up, or turn 18" or something.

Are you ten years old?

So the huge majority of us realize, and I wish you would join us here, that it is completely embarassing and retarded to keep acting like a kid and think that anyone gives a shit about our, mine or yours, rambling that we humor ourselves by calling it poetry or some deep insight into the human condition.  

Not working.

Stop it.  Really.

You have to be autistic.   I have a couple of family members that are oblvious with that condition and I can't imagine how you could NOT be a victim.

Thanks daddy, if it were not for you, I would continue thinking everyone cares. Thanks for setting me straight. You have crushed my dreams, now I am going to go pop myself. BOO HOO, woe is me.

Do you really think you are the first to criticize me? And do you also think that I fancy myself as some sort of Poe? I think if anyone needs a grip you do.

I have been writing for 22 years, and belonged to a poetry group and read my stuff live in front of them. And as with all art, it doesn't have to work for everyone, but all it has to do is work. Now, you don't like my stuff, fine, don't care, that is to be expected.

But if you think I am going to stop writing because you think my stuff is crap, you are giving me a good laugh. Some of it is damned  good, which I will not back off of, and  some of it well, I simply post it because it is part of my history. I never claimed to be Shakespeare. I am me, if you don't like it, you are entitled to your opinion. But you are fool if you think this post will stop me from writing more.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

"We are a nation of Christians and Muslims, Jews and Hindus -- and nonbelievers."Obama
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Thanks CJ, oh btw the

Thanks CJ, oh btw the original poem I quoted in this last one to Watcher is called "Free My Words", not "The Rainbow".

 

 

"We are a nation of Christians and Muslims, Jews and Hindus -- and nonbelievers."Obama
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Deep Meaning, By

Deep Meaning, By Brian37

 

Can there be

With lofty words

And Oxford syllables

"Deep meaning"

 

Are those born

With advantage

Capable of avoiding

The birth canal?

 

A twilight

The final dusk

Is so deep

We cannot understand it?

 

Pain is only deep

If of privilege

And lexicon

Thus have obtained?

 

"Deep" is an illusion

In a universe

And evolution

In which we pale

 

Nothing is "deep"

It is life

The same biology

All are subject to

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

"We are a nation of Christians and Muslims, Jews and Hindus -- and nonbelievers."Obama
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Bigger Boat, By Brian37 The

Bigger Boat, By Brian37

 

The opening scene

Scared my brain

The nude woman

Taking a swim

 

Yanked under

And tossed around

Finally dragged under

For weeks after I had no slumber

 

But even adults

At that time

Missed the point

Of the real villain

 

Brody objected

To the Mayor

Focused on profits

Who did not care

 

Death after death

An excuse was made

Until the obvious

Could not be denied

 

So the politician

On the beach

Kept it open

Despite the danger

 

This is Silkwood

This is Norma Ray

Erin Brockovich

This is our economy

 

The teeth of hubris 

Carcharodon carcharias,

Makes us seals

The great white flips like a toy

 

 

 

"We are a nation of Christians and Muslims, Jews and Hindus -- and nonbelievers."Obama
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HMS, Bellipotent, By

HMS, Bellipotent, By Brian37

 

Billy

No one had the right

Not the Captain

Or Claggart

 

To railroad you

The law is the law

Veritas be damned

Your crew knew it

 

They knew your kindness

And the jealous powers

Above

 That abused you

 

And in the quarters

You could take no more

Of the Captain

Chastising your speech impediment

 

So you responded

Like most would

ENOUGH ENOUGH

And you struck him

 

And put to death

As per law

The crew mourned you

Upon your last breath

(end)

 

This poem is about a book I read in college by Herman Mellville "Billy Bud".

 

"We are a nation of Christians and Muslims, Jews and Hindus -- and nonbelievers."Obama
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Rage Against Your Opposition, By Brian37

Rage Against Your Opposition, By Brian37

 

If you just do

If you just fight

If you just have will

You will end on top

 

The mantra

Of the damned

Who of all our species

Still end up dead

 

Name me one friend

Or foe

Beyond myth

Who does not meet the fate of all

 

So we take up arms

As humans

And always have

For the same plight

 

The plight of food

Of shelter

Of means

Of love

 

Yet we still

In all our cleverness

Figure more ways

To kill our opposition

 

How can this be

When nothing has changed

To think for any group

That being top dog is permanent

 

Shouldn't it be

That differences be

And that bitching

Is far better than bloodshed?

 

Name me one Pope

Or one Cleric

Or one dictator

Or one president

 

Who did not shit

Who did not cry

Who like all of us

Will certainly die.

 

Life is not magic

It never was

All of us subject

To the same life

 

A beginning

And and end

The path to peace

Is not of dominance

 

But one of all

That should relate

That of means

Love , and survival

 

Is the universal

That is not bounded by labels

Nationality or boarders yet consistent

With evolution.

"We are a nation of Christians and Muslims, Jews and Hindus -- and nonbelievers."Obama
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Little White Boxes, By

Little White Boxes, By Brian37

 

I walked through the door

And was hit immediately

By the smell

Of pungent spices

 

The wafting aroma

Pierced my nose

While I pondered

The dish to purchase

 

Normally I'd select

The pork combo

And a side

Of steamed dumplings

 

But the man

Behind the counter

Called himself Mike

Poisons our Pluribus

 

Little white boxes

Small minded white boxes

With the red letters

Soured the atmosphere

 

These little white boxes

Conservative white boxes

Hold no egg rolls

Nor come with chop sticks

 

Chicken their specialty

Bland in flavor

Selling the stench

Of bigotry

 

These little white boxes

Small minded white boxes

Do not serve

This country's diversity

 

It clings to the past

With an icon

A word aptly describing

The coward bully

 

We've seen 

This franchise before

From this

Biblical based business model

 

When the tiny white box

Small minded white box

Did the same

To blacks and women

 

No little white box

No small minded white box

Can change the tides

Of history

 

I will shop

At JC Penny

I will support

Those like Ellen

 

There will be one day

For the likes of you

A sign on the door

"Out of business"

 

So if you wish to survive

Get with the times

And don't be cowards

Hiding behind your god

 

Little white boxes

Small minded white boxes

Is all

You will ever be

(end)

 

"Little White Boxes" OF course refers to Chick Fil A buildings. But the opening stanza is my realization of living in a pluralistic society while still having that wonderful diversity cut by the "stench of bigotry". Just like we as individuals can eat Cheese food one day, and then pizza the next or a burger, we value pluralism, or at least more and more people do.

 

It sickens me today that this kind of crap still exists. I know it will never completely go away because our species will always look for an enemy that really isn't there.


But I see absolutely no long term win for Chick Fil A and all the other right wing bigoted bullshit pulled in this country. When you look at the movements of others, it was always the Christian right holding back progress, and it is always the secular believer and atheist that has to constantly pull these jackasses into the future.

 

The good thing about the west, is that while it still has it's phobic baggage of other minorities, our openness allows those being discriminated against to fight back, and long term, that has lead to progress. I see this current right wing movement being nothing but a losing battle for them long term.

 

Having grown up homophobic myself, only because that was what I was indoctrinated with, I know that despite what my parents sold me, and what my society sold me at the time, I got over it. And their will be a day when Chick Fil A will have to change their attitude, or die out like other bigoted organizations have. Either way they will not win, and I would advise the owners of Chic Fil A that chasing a buck and selling corporate bigotry will not win long term.

 

There are more powerful people than you, such as Oprah and Ellen and far more Christians and non Christians who will fight back and you will lose.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

"We are a nation of Christians and Muslims, Jews and Hindus -- and nonbelievers."Obama
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A Boulder So Big, By Brian37

A Boulder So Big, By Brian37

 

When someone says

I cant

I defy them

And do

 

I am the spirit

Of the  amputee

Seeking to run

A marathon

 

But can I

Commit suicide

And never

Come back?

 

Miracles my fans

Attribute to me

I have no limits

According to them

 

Then what of oblivion?

If I can achieve that

I am pointless

If I can't, I am not all powerful.

 

 

"We are a nation of Christians and Muslims, Jews and Hindus -- and nonbelievers."Obama
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Conscientious Objector maybe, 'hate' an excuse . . .

 Re :: Conscientious Objector maybe, 'hate' an excuse . . .

Brian37 wrote:

Nitney Diddling , By Brian37

The specter Omni
Creeps up again
Failing to explain
The harm of kids

A dick in the ass
Or in the mouth
Of a 10 year old
In a locker room

And the spectacle
Of a mass prayer
To a god
Who did nothing

Insidious concept
Insidious excuse
How can he watch
Child abuse?

The state Penn
Is where he belongs
Both the perp
Along with this god

If CPS
Took the same route
Knew of suffering
And did nothing

What would we say
To those with the power
The failure to do so
What of their morals?

It sickens me
To see such display
To use this crime
As a deity's billboard
(end)

Once again, in the lines of claims and concepts I am trying to demonstrate that the CLAIM is a broken concept. Again, the words ARE harsh, but not out of hate. It is along the lines of "Wake up, can you see what you are selling and believing"?

No one would hire a baby sitter if they did what this god did in watching and only doing something after the fact.

As I said in another thread, how many people would pay good money to see a Superman movie, if Superman was in an ally, in the movie, standing next to a man while the man raped a woman and slit her throat. Would anyone find that story moral?

This poem is about the Penn State assistant coach getting caught in the locker room having sex with a boy.

   Nitney Diddling has some allusions not lost on some of us of late, I think this word 'hate' is thrown about as an ultimate excuse in some quarters, words take on new meanings.  'Conscientious Objector' in this context sort of, but as a theme would be more fitting won't you consider; find it slogan worthy, I dont know ? Getting away from the 'hate' allegations suffered at the very least.    

  ¬ Dana

 

 


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Babushka, By Brian37 The

Babushka, By Brian37

 

The cane gives way

To death

The scarf hides

The futility of age

 

The old lady

Are the whims

Of our past

Our leanings of comfort

 

Babushka is tradition

In total spite

Of change

That is inevitable

 

Kindly we think of her

Wrinkled but of comfort

Yet swinging eyes

With cat tales tick in black and white

 

Cone shaped vinyl

Moves to 75s

To 45s to cassette tapes

To CDs to mp3

 

Babushka can only be

Our personal upbringing

Our personal leanings

Not our common discovery

 

Babushka can make

A meal of beats and brots

While another makes one

Of noodles, and another of rice

 

Or that of fish

Our humanity is that

Of Babushkas

Of every ilk, and every stripe

 

But she

In stone

Should never be set

Any more than the young ever are

 

"We are a nation of Christians and Muslims, Jews and Hindus -- and nonbelievers."Obama
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Grid Iron, By

Grid Iron, By Brian 37

 

From flying V

To first round picks

Heisman trophy

And Lombardy

 

Never prouder

Than today

Of two brave men

Who made a play

 

Not a tackle

Or a sack

Not a touchdown

Or playoff game

 

With a blitz

They rushed the biggots

With the truth

Of equality

 

Thank you Brandon

And Kluwe

For standing tall

Off the feild

 

You represent

The best in humanity

Something all

Should aspire to be

 

We are all Ravens

And Vikings too

A better world

Because of you

(end)

I know it sound sappy and cliche, but I could not be more proud of them and my country right now. In the history of our nation it always takes too long for equality to grow, and the bravery these two showed is far greater than any play they could make on the field.

I think all of us here should find their facebook or twitter pages and thank them, although I am sure they have been flooded.

AS AN ASIDE, Former Giant Tiki Barber was on

 

 

 

"We are a nation of Christians and Muslims, Jews and Hindus -- and nonbelievers."Obama
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Offended, By Brian37 The

Offended, By Brian37

 

The quivers

And quills

Make blood spill

Needlessly

 

500 years prior

They still dwell

Threating blasphemers

All to hell

 

And to what

Has such wrought

Tyranny and hate

Over invisible things

 

Peace to them

Requires submission

Never to question

Their religion

 

Yet after escaping

Horrible oppression

They do to another

What was done to them

 

And to expect

Us to value

Trible murder

Is shallow and hollow

 

Being offended

Is better than death

A lesson humanity

Needs desperately

"We are a nation of Christians and Muslims, Jews and Hindus -- and nonbelievers."Obama
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You should publish or

You should publish or something. You've enough material here for a small ebook or something along those lines.

If you think you suck, so do most artists until enough people tell them otherwise. It's worth a try eh?

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Vastet wrote:You should

Vastet wrote:
You should publish or something. You've enough material here for a small ebook or something along those lines. If you think you suck, so do most artists until enough people tell them otherwise. It's worth a try eh?

I won't pretend all of it is top shelf. But it is part of my life and covers topics most poets don't cover. As far as an e-book, I would but I don't know shit about doing that stuff on line, much less that I have a sucky computer. I really need someone to be in person to walk me through that kind of on line stuff.

But thanks man. It is nice that some people do notice. Until IG put his website on ice I was tracking the views and two of them had over 4 thousand views and most were in the hundreds geting hits every day.

"We are a nation of Christians and Muslims, Jews and Hindus -- and nonbelievers."Obama
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Prob won't answer all your

Prob won't answer all your questions, but you never know.
You've already done the hardest part: the writing.

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 I also live in a

 I also live in a conservitive state helping my mom out who live in a retirement home. I don't want to jeopordize her friendships or her living there. So utlimately I am torn. If anything outside in my daily life I am more insecure than people here know. This is my oasis and I feel strong and much more confident.

If I were to do this,

If there was someone to physically walk me through the process, or set it up on their end I'd love to. And maybe to Brian Sapient, if he wanted to make an e-book for me, I'd gladly give a portion of the profits to Rational Responders. Or maybe if Evolve Fish were willing to set up a pay per print book? I don't know, but I do not feel comfortable trying to set this up by myself. I am a writer, not a business man.

I even have a title for it which I will not devulge until or unless this gets set up. But either way I do value your encouragement. I just simply don't want to get in over my head or fuck something up that I know nothing about.

I will say this, if that were to ever become a reality YOU will be one mentioned in my forward.

Just being part of this community is my thearapy, and if it were not for the likes of many over the years who gave me the strength  to be out and open, is my comfort regardless. It all started with a nurse whom I read about after 9/11 and I wish I could find her and thank her. But the  Atheist Network(now replaced) is where I got my start online.Infidel Guy spun off that and then Brian spun off that, and countless posters, including you, have been a huge boon of information and knowlege I could have never dreamed of having and am so thankful and greatful for all of you.

But my poetry? I don't know? Fear of failure or fear of success? I also know what famous people go through and I would almost rather be dead first so I don't have to live under a microscope. I do have the humility on this to know that it is merely my writing and should not be compaired to anyone close to the top in this art. If I were to discribe my strong suit it is the simplicity of it, and the repititiion of my boring block style and capitalized lines I know pisses off my critics. But it isn't written for them. My strong point is that it can, not always, but can appeal to the average person.

I want to think I am worthy and I do think the messages most certainly strike a cord and are controversial enough to make waves with theists, but can it sell? Certainly we see in media lots of crap that does sell, so when you say "give it a try", I know what you mean, but I cant bring myself to do it all by myself. Nothing would thrill me more than to be able to pay my bills without starving to death, but I am not out to get rich either, nor does the prospect of death threats appeal to me either.

I am rambling here. Bottom line, there are lots of factors, but fear and insecurity are probably my biggest problem.

 

"We are a nation of Christians and Muslims, Jews and Hindus -- and nonbelievers."Obama
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Patent Office, By

Patent Office, By Brian37

 

The endless claims

Of invisible memes

Throughout

Our history

 

From polytheism

To monotheism

To new age

Conspiracy

 

To all of these

My challenge the same

Take it to

The patent office

 

Take it to

The patent office

Or win

A nobel prize

 

Most certainly

And uniquivically

If you do

There would be no doubt

 

To hold my breath

I'd speculate

To wait for such

Would be futile

 

Make your attempt

By all means

I do enjoy

Watching hamsters on wheels

 

Take it to 

The patent office

Then, and only then

Would you have room to talk

 

I'll  make an appointment

When you do

A week from never

I'll mark on my calender

 

Oh my arrogance

You so shout

But what have you invented

Other than myth?

 

Trains and planes

And automobiles

Medicine and computers

All can use

 

They need no gods

Nor to them we pray

They are real tools

Science has made

 

Take it to

The patent office

You're sure to have

The same luck as those prior 

"We are a nation of Christians and Muslims, Jews and Hindus -- and nonbelievers."Obama
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Fatal Attraction, By

Fatal Attraction, By Brian37

 

There is no

Restraining order

You can place

On this stalker

 

Always there

Following you

Watching you

With no reprive or respite

 

"I will not be ignored"

This character demands

In all the books

Of Abraham

 

Abducting children

Through credulity

Boiling humans

Political rabits

 

In the antique tub

The stalker was drowned

Shot by reason

The horror ended

"We are a nation of Christians and Muslims, Jews and Hindus -- and nonbelievers."Obama
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By the gaming gods I forgot

By the gaming gods I forgot the link! F! lol

http://reviews.cnet.com/8301-18438_7-20010547-82/how-to-self-publish-an-ebook/

Ridiculous amount of info there, though it isn't overbearing.

It was supposed to be attached to my last post.

Quote:
will say this, if that were to ever become a reality YOU will be one mentioned in my forward.

*blush*

Proud Canadian, Enlightened Atheist, Gaming God.