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Jeremy Betts Dec 2023
Let's look at religion
A barley arguable opinion
An iffy position to hold on a poorly written legend
Playing pretend, a doctrine based in fiction

It's a belief
It can be helpful with grief
It can offer something resembling relief
But there's no being above or beneath

It's only a story
Meant for guiding, not setting morality
A children's book with adult vocabulary
Not to be taken seriously once you've learn about the tooth fairy

This is ridiculous
This fictitious alpha and omega business
An impossible for anyone to follow syllabus
Why haven't we moved on from the preposterous?

If it helps...fine
Use it, let it consume all YOUR time
I'm tired of having to remind YOUR kind
That's YOUR truth, NOT mine

©2023
Jeremy Betts Feb 2018
(political)

What in the actual fuuck are we doin'?
Shootin' one another equals out to a no win
Showin' only that we are capable of goin' where we've already been
It's been provin'
Even good men can watch sin turn into addiction
Jonsen for a fix 'n looking for a substance to mix in
To distort your perception of the mess you're in
Crossing that line between wishin' straight into non fiction
And once you do that you've gone way beyond fixin'
But don't nobody listen to reason, we witnessin treason
As the agonizingly slow killing season eliminates believin'
So we turn on our kin and every non-citizen with different skin
And every US born citizen with a different complexion or opinion
We lack the discipline to avoid the tail spin
That we've gotten ourselves in, onboard this doomed zeppelin
A people forsaken so that the one percent can rake in a few more billion
This creates a toxin, affectin' everyone from grandparents to children
Shortenin' the distance to your coffin
A foundation of sand, yeah, we all know how that'll end
I gotta question, who pays the dividend?
When push comes to shove, and it will, who gets the win?
When all the frustration of an entire nation comes to a head and our "leader" is out on another vacation
What's it going to take to tip the scale in our direction?
Maybe its to late to take any kind of action
At least any that will bring some sort of satisfaction
Only living a fraction of your life and the rest through a corporation
No line, no separation, just a part of the consumer relation
And they don't want you to awaken and realize what's been taken
That's the reason for conspiracy, call it a theory to add complication and feed the confusion
Make the equation so impossible you raise fear to an elevation where you can strike with no confirmation
The laceration that severed any credibility will be our damnation
This great nation of ours quickly turned into the greatest abomination
Almost as if we set up and executed or own assassination
A goal of global ******* has always led to a civilizations extinction
History has proven to repeat itself and over and over again...we miss the lesson
So let it sink in...if this is our new direction we're destin to lose the beacon
No hope of a better tomorrow to believe in
If only it was as simple as leavin but it's not, this won't even stop if we destroy the villainous demon
So what do we do?...I have no ******* clue but this boat is sinkin'

©2018
Man Aug 2023
Conflagration,
Conflict & confusion.
Consternation,
What comes, and has been.
Condemnation,
Of fact, and of fiction.
Comatose.
One world, many nations
Larry dillon May 2023
There's a secret only one angel knew.

It goes like this:

       There is a place that once grew.
             A garden made for two.

A tree.
   A treason.
      Mankind evicted from Eden,
      ... for an obscure reason.

Curious,
An angel flew down
-biting into the apple-
Adam and Eve had eaten.

Because the Lord's plan must be broken?
The Angel pressed their luck...
But ...why plant a tree,simply,to test their trust?

Now in a rush to reveal what was learned
-before they could soar past those
pearly gates-
Lurid illumination eviscerates their pristine wings.
                        
                         The Lord sees All:
                            and He is Irate.

They create a crater as they collide with our world;
exiled forever from the Lord's estate.
They awake as a woman for their costly mistake.

Her place amongst the holy host is gone.
Cursed with forbidden knowledge.
Awareness of right and wrong.
Exchanging a halo for free-will:
Heaven is no longer a place she belongs.

The Angel outcast.

Cast out from her home.
Forced to roam this world all alone.
She sought out the Truth;
Then her faith became clouded.
There is few who listen to what she says now:
yet still she shouts it.

She tells me-the former angel yells,
"Devour fruit from the Tree of Knowledge
  ...if you dare.

but beware!!

God did not plant that tree...
    
It was already there."
  
-
A (short) story reimagining the origins of the Tree of Knowledge and of an angel exiled after partaking in its fruit.
Randy Johnson Nov 2022
When a surgeon had to operate on a man, she was ******.
She botched the operation because the patient was sexist.
She learned he was sexist and botched the operation so that he would die.
She bragged about it to her friends, it was something that she did not deny.
But she didn't expect one of her friends to turn her in.
Now she's rotting in prison, she's no longer a surgeon.
She doesn't even realize she did wrong, she thought she had the right to ****.
A surgeon is never supposed to take a life, it's a surgeon's duty to try to heal.
She thinks her patient was **** but he was a better person than her.
At least he didn't **** another human being, he was not a murderer.
Isaace Nov 2022
The Human dream became the Martian dream as we slept on our Mars-bound voyage. We could see colonies amidst landscapes pristine, teeming with strange Martian plants discovered post-bloom.

The Martians were adorned with ivory carvings and had surrounded themselves with esoteric paintings of marauding faces. They spoke in strange tongues, switching between Martian and another almost incomprehensibly clandestine tongue of barbaric intonation. And although they clutched sharp, ivory spears with a fierce resolve, they remained docile in our presence, and told us of the vivid dreams they had engaged in as a group prior to our arrival; abstract dreams, tinged with fragmented images of insemination and visitation by the Mars Moth-Man— he who was oil-funded, and had been delivering concrete messages to the people of Mars ever since the first settlers had arrived in the distant past.

But, once we had truly set foot upon Mars— from outside the strange realm of dreams which lives solely within our collective mind's eye— we could not have foretold, our shared dream was revealed to be a sprawling wasteland of jagged rocks and infertile soil.
Trevor Blevins Aug 2022
I grabbed her by the waist in the disco-ball light
And said that we didn’t have to stay here and dance if she had any better ideas.

Everyone smelled like liquor,
Vultures circled in masquerade frowns to listen in on our plotting,
To drag our way out of the party
Toward somewhere more secluded.

But the alone time we made for ourselves was just that,
Alone in the most quiet and heartbreaking ways
That could only ever materialize when you’ve communicated perfectly with someone
By a complete accident of circumstance.

And the balancing act of the words you’ve placed rigidly inside of hers begin to unravel
Beneath the weight of all the questions you ignored to ask.
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