Poetic atheism
July 10, 2010 at 2:30 pm
(This post was last modified: July 10, 2010 at 2:32 pm by The Omnissiunt One.)
Below are a few of my poems regarding my views on religion and other subjects.
I posted this one on the problem of evil on another thread, but I thought I'd repost it:
The Solution to Epicurus' Riddle
If God can do most anything,
And if he's truly good,
It seems to me
(You must agree)
To prove it, first he should:
Get rid of war, and all disease,
From AIDS to bouts of flu.
Then, looking back,
A heart attack,
For Hitler; start anew.
He should announce from up on high,
That he digs contraception,
To all impart,
Life doesn't start,
The moment of conception.
They say that life's a moral test,
He gives us all free will,
That's his excuse,
To seem obtuse,
And let us maim and kill.
But this just doesn't cut it, no!
He must end the world's malaise,
Get rid of pain,
And the insane,
And fucking 'Songs of Praise'.
This is a limerick on the crucifixion:
A Saviour Named Messiah
There was a young man they called Christ,
For our sins he was sacrificed.
God should've just said,
'You're naughty,' instead;
A bollocking would have sufficed.
This next one isn't on a particularly jolly theme, and in fact I treated it quite seriously in some ways. It's more of a satire of a Catholic church than anything.
Cardinal Sin
Seamus O' Moigod, a priest by profession,
Community pillar (but not made of salt),
Would patiently sit through every confession,
And then he'd advise folks on every fault.
His sermons were well-known for energy, vigour,
Each one was delivered in soft Irish tones,
He put out the stuff for communion wih rigour,
For it was no less than the Lord's blood and bones.
But under his cassock dark things were a-stirring,
For there he had gathered ten years of dust,
Now rusty components were once again whirring,
Engaging their sinful default mode, called 'lust'.
With no normal targets to fix it upon,
Choir boys were chosen for one-to-one sessions.
Once it began, his poor soul was long gone,
Filled with guilt not relieved by a thousand confessions.
One day, when his session had got to full flow,
A cardinal came; he was caught unawares.
'Come with me, Father; now I finally know,
You're showing these boys more than how to say prayers.'
The cardinal said, 'Well, the Lord can forgive;
If you will repent, then the church can forget.
It's done things itself that we'd best not relive,
So you shouldn't be filled with any regret.'
He stood up to leave, with shame etched on his face,
Then, breathless with anger, the cardinal gasped,
'You monster! You fiend! Leave right now, in disgrace!'
For, in Seamus' hand, a lone condom was clasped.
Finally, here's a short poem about my diet of choice, pescetarianism.
Ode to Pescetarianism
When it comes to matters of meat,
All that I am willing to eat,
Is things from the water,
Without painful slaughter,
And nothing that has any feet.
Please feel free to make any suggestions as to how I could improve them, or just tell me they're shit if you're that way inclined (though constructive criticism would be preferred).
I posted this one on the problem of evil on another thread, but I thought I'd repost it:
The Solution to Epicurus' Riddle
If God can do most anything,
And if he's truly good,
It seems to me
(You must agree)
To prove it, first he should:
Get rid of war, and all disease,
From AIDS to bouts of flu.
Then, looking back,
A heart attack,
For Hitler; start anew.
He should announce from up on high,
That he digs contraception,
To all impart,
Life doesn't start,
The moment of conception.
They say that life's a moral test,
He gives us all free will,
That's his excuse,
To seem obtuse,
And let us maim and kill.
But this just doesn't cut it, no!
He must end the world's malaise,
Get rid of pain,
And the insane,
And fucking 'Songs of Praise'.
This is a limerick on the crucifixion:
A Saviour Named Messiah
There was a young man they called Christ,
For our sins he was sacrificed.
God should've just said,
'You're naughty,' instead;
A bollocking would have sufficed.
This next one isn't on a particularly jolly theme, and in fact I treated it quite seriously in some ways. It's more of a satire of a Catholic church than anything.
Cardinal Sin
Seamus O' Moigod, a priest by profession,
Community pillar (but not made of salt),
Would patiently sit through every confession,
And then he'd advise folks on every fault.
His sermons were well-known for energy, vigour,
Each one was delivered in soft Irish tones,
He put out the stuff for communion wih rigour,
For it was no less than the Lord's blood and bones.
But under his cassock dark things were a-stirring,
For there he had gathered ten years of dust,
Now rusty components were once again whirring,
Engaging their sinful default mode, called 'lust'.
With no normal targets to fix it upon,
Choir boys were chosen for one-to-one sessions.
Once it began, his poor soul was long gone,
Filled with guilt not relieved by a thousand confessions.
One day, when his session had got to full flow,
A cardinal came; he was caught unawares.
'Come with me, Father; now I finally know,
You're showing these boys more than how to say prayers.'
The cardinal said, 'Well, the Lord can forgive;
If you will repent, then the church can forget.
It's done things itself that we'd best not relive,
So you shouldn't be filled with any regret.'
He stood up to leave, with shame etched on his face,
Then, breathless with anger, the cardinal gasped,
'You monster! You fiend! Leave right now, in disgrace!'
For, in Seamus' hand, a lone condom was clasped.
Finally, here's a short poem about my diet of choice, pescetarianism.
Ode to Pescetarianism
When it comes to matters of meat,
All that I am willing to eat,
Is things from the water,
Without painful slaughter,
And nothing that has any feet.
Please feel free to make any suggestions as to how I could improve them, or just tell me they're shit if you're that way inclined (though constructive criticism would be preferred).
'We must respect the other fellow's religion, but only in the sense and to the extent that we respect his theory that his wife is beautiful and his children smart.' H.L. Mencken
'False religion' is the ultimate tautology.
'It is just like man's vanity and impertinence to call an animal dumb because it is dumb to his dull perceptions.' Mark Twain
'I care not much for a man's religion whose dog and cat are not the better for it.' Abraham Lincoln
'False religion' is the ultimate tautology.
'It is just like man's vanity and impertinence to call an animal dumb because it is dumb to his dull perceptions.' Mark Twain
'I care not much for a man's religion whose dog and cat are not the better for it.' Abraham Lincoln
