How human
is human nature?
Alas, then, is nature
by default also human?
Human not soulfully enliven?
Just deposed products
of the same, natural
mystery?
So, is Nature or Man
to blame? -- is it devil
or God
or simply
the pollinated seed
perpetually alive in every
duplicating spontaneous
naturally manipulated oblivious
spiritually vacant pod?
Dead and distant.
Someone's personal best friend.
Don't say his name, don't draw his face.
He or She or They are an A Flat or a B Sharp,
or a thought, a spark, or a coming together,
Everything or nothing at all,
or love.
The beginning and the end.
The Alpha dog the scruffy human pack seeks,
roaming wildly in the quest for answers.
God is an A Flat or a B Sharp,
but not a Middle C.
That would just be too ordinary.
How fast they fall
from the heavens
pounded to stone dust
a culture of thought
reduced to tzatziki sauce
stare at the statues
of broken leg and limb
this empire is dead
the next one too
on and on the merry-go-round
spins
the last tango is never in Paris
just ask Napoleon
A well of knowledge we're not privy to
The Atheist fills with ridicule
Construing God as something else
While their Spirit longs to find Him
Their common sense; so critical
An insult to demand proof
Yet Jesus traced His scars with Thomas
Are we again to crucify Him?
Some allotments have been Biblical
By no means limited to
If all our hopes in Him turn true
Is that not more then words could do?
The Athiest
I was born and there was no God in sight
Was he taken like a thief in the night
At night passed on a blinking light
but not enough to stir belief
My parents felt the same as I
except to mention pumpkin pie
it evoked a spirit with a taste
when they devoured it with haste
denial made me curious
to traverse to a cultural lore
garnished with sin and disbelief
I resolved myself to say no more
I needed someone to relay
and this is what I heard her say
she whispered a prayer so she could be heard
If faith you are seekng you will be sought
He’ll hear your plea and your soul will be caught
The Athiest Poetry Contest
Sponsored by Anthony Slausen
November 26, 2018
Of soldiers
And patients
Of the committed
And convicts
All their prayers
Fall beneath the floorboards or reach the surface
As roaches
of the empty room
who scatter when the lights come on.
But there is no score keeper to put them on.
Didn’t you know that redemption has
Always been just a rumor
And never payment to some trickster God
Who wrote the scripts
To all foul deeds which ends
With a lit cigarette or tears?
What do you expect when even the boss’s son doesn’t remember your name?
Didn’t know that the sons
And
Daughters
Of the gilded age
No longer pray
But that’s what happens
when the promise of the after life has been
Bought and sold
By the very best second story men
In the business?
And didn’t you know heaven is an SRO of vacant rooms
With waiting bathrooms down the hall?
Who wants to live with someone who pisses
On the toilet seat
With the door open
and refuses to flush
anyway?
I harbor no resentment in fact the opposite is true
For what is really meant is that I care about you
Polar opposites are we in being so very far apart
I just want you to see what is truly in my heart
I mean no harm in any of these words I speak
For you could bet the farm that we are all so weak
I know not your way or have I walked in your shoes
That is why I always pray for the life that you choose
There is no need to chide or even to holler back
I'm not on any side as I'm squarely on the track
But I respect your view and understand your point
In giving God His due surely it is you He will anoint
Please, sit back down in the chair, I won't cross that line
Saying before it's for you that I care is just one truth of mine
And that will not ever change in each day that I start
As I pray He will rearrange and He will begin with your heart
A brand new clock with all new resolution i wish to buy
From the eight hour of midnight to the arrival of dawn i'm all awake
The soul speaks in darkness and whatever echoes from there is
Never to Abhor
Never to be aberated by whatever is around
Never to be an abator
The mind Abjure's & the soul takes an oath to abnegate all the evil around
To abolish all fear,,thrust & lust
Never to feel abashed for how you are,who you are.
As Life is nothing more than a nine day wonder,
Beginning with a bliss of growth & vision of hope
It was my first year of school
my was I the fool
I still laugh and think how cruel
but instead I'll think twice
and pretend it was nice
After all it was the school of Christ
The priest that had taught me
Gave me a crayon and fought me
To color inside of the lines
And when I questioned why
He looked at me so sly
"If you don't you WILL go to hell, don't cry"
I dried the tears and thought for a while
HE then hit me.....I gave in with a smile
"Priest , can you color in the lines?"
He replied "Of course I can"
"God will guide my hand"
and pulled out a crayon and tried
and when he was done
he looked far none
"God guided my hand and kept it from the overrun"
"Thats not so bad, you did not even blink"
"Thats not so bad for a man who cannot think"
For I have a mind of my own
I cannot help it if you lost your tone
For if God wants me to be
Whatever I want to be
He will give me the crayon and tell me to run
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