Monday, August 19, 2013

A Welcome Party for Unbelievers



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

No comments:

Post a Comment