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An Untold Higher Power

Today, I'm going to **** them with kindness.

I'll walk the streets with a skip in my step,

corners of my mouth arched, skin tough.

I will be rubber. I will not be glue.

I will avoid sticks and stones.

I will be Teflon.

 

Yesterday, I killed someone, with kindness.

I created art, in many ways, I created Hell.

A page filled with gestures may seem ageless, however,

a spectacular self-awareness occurs.

There is closure. There is completion.

Unlike the manipulation of one's face.

There too is completion, but closure is not

always certain. Some leave with last words

that linger. Some lift their arms to The Lord,

Lord hear their prayer. And others find

themselves at peace, living on in the hearts

and minds of others, loved or not.

 

Is a legacy more important to an Atheist?

That's speculative, I suppose. But if what they

say is true, and most CEO's are psychopaths,

then I would assume that it is. Monetary value

will always triumph over theoretical morality.

And I say that morals and ethics can be theory

to a man certain of his faith, because in the end,

sin can be absolved. Faith in a higher being, in

something bigger than yourself, often leaves

thought of peers as dismissible. For they have

their own demons to overcome.

 

How do you accept indifference in a system

that is above natural law? Omnipotence should

never be exposed to have a grey area, especially

when it is considered to be set in stone. Oxygen

and gravity aren't, but tell that to a man who

is falling and trying to catch his last breath.

 

Lastly, consider art.

As the creator, the mastermind hidden in

the clouds to let his work speak volumes.

The divine grace that is told in brush strokes,

in notes placed to play, to be presented.

That's a beauty that is foresaken.

Another key representation of something

seen but not seen.

 

Even a deaf man delivered notes he could not

hear, rivaled ones able, and challenged normality.

The difference between an artist, and

a person producing art, is that an artist

will use blood, whereas the latter

searches for a comparable color.

Request permission to use this poem
Written by
charlie-chirico
29 / M / American
Published
Nov 5, 2013
Lines·Words
49·363
Notes

I am an Atheist. My friends know this, as do most of the people that have come and gone in my life, but there is the occasional person that comes to find this out about me and makes it a personal goal to try and persuade me, or sometimes tell me that I am sadly mistaken and misguided. Usually this happens to me at work, although it has happened in my personal life as well. I don't take offense to it, quite the contrary, I find myself thinking of a way to thoughtfully elaborate my views. Sometimes commiserating, and other times pure indifference, but that is the beauty of personal choice. But as much as I keep my views to myself, I find that some religious people will take the time to extend their beliefs in a way they see as formidable, when I see it as frivolous. This poem I wrote at my job, after having a conversation with a customer that finds light in The Lord and future salvation. When I explained that I was an Atheist he told me that I just haven't found spiritual enlightenment yet. To say that I wasn't annoyed would be a lie, but I have also conditioned myself better than that to let someone have enough power over me to conduct myself in a disrespectful manner.

Thanks for reading.

- Charlie

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