I
empathize that it can be hard to come out to your family
I
was baptized into the fold; adults take showers, not baths
Atheism
can do some wonderful things for you
In
a single moment the light illuminates, a clock starts recognizing
The
time in this breathing organism for your temporary cells
Is
finite
There
is no afterlife for this thinking-version of self
So
one better get on with it; whatever it is one wishes to accomplish
Every
moment becomes more precious
Every
wasted more precarious
Sleep,
meals, alcoves to contemplate, read, investigate, annunciate
Proclaim,
assert, write, love, inspire, teach, learn, and document
Are
unrecoverable treasures numerated and dissipating
Instantaneously
without recourse or response
Absent
another morsel of respiration swallowed like gaseous blood
Swirling
for the combustion engine of the mind percolating
An
essence of life as something incomprehensible and worse
Waiting
on a heavenly shelf to be offered gratis for a lifetime of not asking questions
The
insult to the interrogative spirit of growth is ghastly, morbid and a liturgy
of tomfoolery
Beguiling
people into vessels of wasted opportunity soaked in filthy resins of neutered
unction
Life
becomes stationary as a dulled nub-blade feeble and feckless at slicing a
discerning crumb
To
nourish the ladder rungs of one’s progeny and the descendants of the collective
And
worse to poison in a meme of fascist tyrannical language instructing complacent
Acceptance
of synthetic negative-sum norms of worship sucking away
Precious
harvests of time into a vacuum of non-response, non-production, non-thought
And
in some instances to draw rage into the man-devil of war
Be
proud young non-believer, there is no mandate or restriction
If
you must walk back and forth to test the potential lightning bolt’s strike
On
each side of this line of discernment, please explore
There
is only ration, inquiry and humility here into love welled in action, not faith
For
there is no glory in blind faith, the value of love is in choice, act, and
growth
The
eerie hesitance is the feeling of superstition attempting to claw its
fingernails into your skin
As
you extract its indolent lotus-flower from your blood stream
The
matrix is glittering in front potentially horrific, brilliant, and lovely
When
I first thought through the recognition that god does not exist
I
thought of the tooth fairy; for this mercurial fang-hording sprite
Is
in the trinity with the bunny and Claus in the folklore of Christian younglings
The
other pairing trespass domiciles in the marketing campaign of a deity’s
resurrection and birth
Children
are made to digest faith, to believe in a palatable unction conjoined with
candy and toys
The
nostrum of the spirit is a panacea of miraculous indoctrination so that parents
Sorting
reality from fantasy in most every endeavor from alphabet to the mathematics
Of
what may lurk in closets or under bed skirts to an unwitting prepubescent boy
Is
presented alongside the cover-up tattoo artists of pagan holidays with a
tiny-winged dentist
For
how applicable could a Biblical event be linked to that of mature teeth
ascending and descending
Through
mandible to jettison the molars and bicuspids of toddlerhood to the murky
unknown
Of
a garbage can or motherly curio cabinet to be bagged-numbered and reassembled
into a faux-maw?
The
revelry and joy of such compensating rituals for the blood and firing off of
nerve endings
Of
twisting that last block of dentin rooted in gum to provide absence for the
incoming recognition
That
the fresh enamel soldiers do not appear from the great beyond by miraculous
poof,
But
were cells developing in body beyond the visible absent x-ray through evolved
genetic instruction
The
entry and exit of such tools of the vehicle of our body alternate like tires
As
the skin cells of our epidermis shed with each passing handshake
Inside
of which electrons pass in our atomic construction so that the permeation of
our growing
Bodies
in the universe pass as ships in the night of what was once us and is now not
us
And
what was not us is now us becomes a debatable transposing metamorphosis
Of
where the boundary of our being erects a borderline
For
in this cartography we face the dilemma of souls; are these heavenly
placeholders
Hovering,
lurking, attached butting elbows with the soulless wardrobes and lions;
Where
is the auspice of human?
Therein
we are presented with ration, the tooth exists and the fairy does not
The
extension of this interplay between science and mythology cascades into
Thor,
Zeus, Itzamnaaj, Rah, Elohim, Pangu, Anu, Shango, Tabaldak, Yhi, Ixazaluoh,
Mohammad,
Vishnu, Abraham’s talking-buddy into Jesus and his three-in-one pop
The
urge to keep going from the tooth fairy morphs into a sprint as so many are
taught
To
eat the fruit of faith by a story about avoiding the apple of knowledge
So
that as we age into suspicion we are presented with a second line of defense
And
a subset are labeled laughable preposterous step-children of the clan of the
imaginary
Goblins,
vampires, lycanthropes and fairies drifting into the eventual chocolate rabbits
And
hovering-sleigh chimney-elevator philanthropist; this additional line of
defense
Is
a kamikaze blockade to the ration of adulthood so that children are made to
believe in this troop
As
adults advertising the bestowed treasure from a cotton-tailed diabetic would
initiate calls to Bellevue
Therein
the boundary is cast that these superior figures are solidified into adulthood
For
surely those under the age of eight stay in this room of the corridor
To
extol the untruth and disrupt the young ones’ cogitations of Santa is deemed
despicable
As
it denies a child the revelry of Christmas morning’s splendor as if the ritual
were about
Cowboy
hats, dolls or teddy bears; the girl would be instantaneously yanked into the
second room
The
untruth of the second-layer requires the first-layer to set; like deciduous
milk-teeth
The
body must be prepared for the incoming toll, like exercising a muscle or
stretching an aperture
Of
vaginal dilation the birth of the idea will not exit its parent’s mind and be
able to jump ship
In
the ideology from generation to generation without this term to explain the
unseen
Absent
proper time and practice at the collective staring of nudity and waving in the
parade
So
the viruses of deities replicate their strands of faith by stealing the sly
nature of vaccines
Give
the host a bit of the preposterous so that when the greater absurdity
approaches
Without
the reinforcement of parental blind obedience the idea is not rejected by the
body
The
antibodies of ration will perversely see this idea as rational
This
parasitic transference confuses our bodies into a leapfrogging eternity
To
live not for the exploration of this time, but a time promised like a gilded
rainbow’s end
Wherein
when one stands directly under the descending pillar of light spectrum
Sees
nothingness
The
tilt of position gravitates toward panic in harnessing morality as if the beast
was not innate
But
reined to a field-plow of pages of storybooks about white flying horses and
multiplying fish
So
you are considering opening the door to that third room you were always told
Behind
which is death; to pierce incisors into the flesh of the apple
Believing
your gums would stigmata in revolt as lips touched taboo
In
this room is a universe that always was in a pantheon of boundless space-time
In
this room are Thomas Jefferson, Albert Einstein, Christopher Hitchens, you and
me
And
familiar faces who have mentally entered here but are hiding in this universe
Exhibiting
a theists-ideal at times afraid to speak of the nude emperors who raised us
Yet
so many are giggling in their dormitories and moving on to grand deeds of
introspective and communal contribution, not out of fealty or fear of
perdition, but out of volition cast in love, want, and will; We are here and
everywhere; we are the last great coming-out
Welcome
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