All this aside, I read this moving poem. The formatting is strange and might not appear exactly as intended, so you may want to read it at the original source. Or here is fine, too:

I’m not sure about God.
I’ve seen too much of ugliness for it
to be intentional,
………. too much
of beauty for it not to be.
………. ………. Take,

for example,
……………….. the downtown silhouette
from across the Manchester Bridge
on a winter’s early evening, the
moon just shy of full, blushing
behind lit twelfth-storey windows, the soul-eyes
of a city half-wrapped in rivermist
and dinner plans, grinning teeth
of January jack-o’-lanterns reflecting
over rock and rapid.
……………….. Or
Fourteenth and Main
on a rainy rush hour, drops
………. spilling river-ward through traffic light
and streetlamp, tires
leaving splashmarks across
the footprint of cavalry and

………………………… slave.

Better yet, walk with me
through the whispers
at Belle Island, where the voices of fallen prisoners
haunt the college kids sunning like
………. sea lions out over the self-same
rocks. (Have you seen what they feed them in those cafeterias lately?)

……………….. When autumn comes,
the waters will rise in waves, creeping up
………. on the empty beer cans and cigarette
……………….. packs, washing them down
past Chapel Isle and the ruins of the Confederate boatyard
as the river runs home.

………………………….. When
I’m dying,
take me to the old hospital
where McGuire’s successors taught
medicine with stolen bodies; no
chain-linkedSaint-named designer cure
for this gentlesoul. Andwhen

I’m dead
take me to
Hollywood
………. and a spot
……………….. where I can see the river
………. from a grave
without a cross:
I’m still
not too sure about God.

It has a really nice flow that urged me to share.

(The Goods of) Time

Never plentiful enough; always far too much
So quick to slur, slowly blur
And jump ahead-
Ticking away, picking
At the hands of the
Clock
Who keeps
Changing the gears.

[Written: August 14, 2006]

This poem refers to the idea that the only thing that’s at all “in control” or “god-like” is time; which it’s really not per se, but c’mon a little artistic license anyone? ;) The following poem is slightly more obvious, mainly referring to the end-of-days-ers:

Believe Blind

Cyclical logic, belief blind
To those with a clear end to time
Suffering in an intolerable mind;
Divide zero by zero to get nine.

No end in sight to abbreviate,
Final energy obfuscates
Decaying mass. Signals wait
Moments as they invent fate.

[Written: January 3, 2007]

Written before I had the pleasure of knowing A Division by Zer0, btw. On to the last one (for today):

Push Beyond (Immorality Concedes)

Reveal immorality
truly, just the wrong
way of taking
a living breathing-
devour the being,
raping rational
thought. Inhumanly
consuming logic
callously
with A sharp-

[Written: July 12, 2006]

After being inundated by fundamentalists and other strong theists (mostly in the media), that godlessness is equated to immorality, I began blogging (and writing more). The teaching of children and other impressionable people around them that the events in the holy book of their choice are to be taken literally (i.e. creationism) is far more harmful than any form of atheism, secularism, or non-adherence to religion.

If you happen to enjoy any of these, don’t worry, I have moar!