I don't know what's  the matter with you, Jewboy?
Talking about This and That!
Why don't you just let Donald Trump  run this country?!
He knows what the hell he's doing!
Look at this Trade War.
We're gonna' win!
The rest of the world can't compete
With the  good ol' U.S. of A.!
We just have to deport all them dark skinned people
So the white men
Will get all the privileges
And all the hot babes for themselves.
Then, we'll have a perfect White Supremacist Utopia!
It's a perfect plan!
There should be
No room for dissent!
that will neither revolutionize whorled wide web,
   nor pollinate like fecund human loam
viz - it mine neurological nuances here
   within Schwenksville, Pennsylvania,

   my present home,
town pulsating with
   so called "butterfly effect" ineluctably
fluttering microscopically
   like dust motes or invisible foam

(bell leave me) metamorphosed
   mental whim, within cranial dome
(in valise case body electric)
   covered in 50 + nine slim shades
   of gray streaked brown dread fully medium
   length lockets i rarely comb,

   boot food for thought to set literary stage
before affixing my poetic missive -
   from this word wrangler,
   hoof hinds himself dumbfounded

   at whiz bang of years cuz - just yesterday
   aye remembered being a boy,
   now i yam more than
   half a century since birth didst age.

without further ado
i offer literary missives enclosed
   within this body politic spooked
   me playful teenage inner child goes "boo"
fur ye to ponder and brew

of his small bread box sized lil motley crue
two daughters due
tee flapped wings, and flew the coop
whereby aye resemble offspring hybrid
   ostrich crossed with an emu,

whose deux progeny sired from personal
   super reproductive goo
swimming swiftly in
   harried styled, swiftly taylor made
   viscous tailored tulle lord hue

carrying miniature bin - laden
   genetic heritage predominantly Jew
wish with one late uncle Sam,
   who preferred to be called cra debt lou
who himself happened to be,

   a milch cow frequent moo
wing for bare naked lady gaga friend
   winnie mandy della pooh,
which induced inxs doth rue
what comprises Darwinian

   Origin of Species to be true
evolutionary biologists versus
   Bible thumping creationists claim
   with tangible proof as their view
perchance includes you
this chimp bull leaves humans
   originated from primate zoo.


thankful to enjoy genesis of thoughts
from whence doth spring germ
of an idea, that either takes root
(exhibiting potential to live with
arms strong) when just a tender

vulnerable shoot (ephemeral as notes
issuing from a magic flute)
within fifty plus shades of gray matter
per this fifty plus year ole coot?

This need dull in haste tack
search for source that gave rise
per process to enable homo sapiens
to think doth nag horse sense
of this poet as he initially digs shallow,

yet sometimes forced to spelunk
into crawl space narrow and shallow,
or shine laser focus into a chasm
teetering on brink (hunting down

gamesome elusive dodging catlike whims)
out pace readied whorled wide net
to capture alive agile rat fink unseen
quiet as a mouse notion gives hardy fellow
(quite a chase) scurrying thru micro
cosmic burrow of Manhattan skyscrapers

at a blink, said quarry vanishes
without a trace just as quick mental cogs
and wheels generated riveting link
connecting bot sized tinker toys pinging

within cerebral cortex appearing random
as nonsequiturs conscious kinks via
distracting ability to latch onto awesome
fleeting mindspace inducing minor frustration
at lack of ability to nab (albeit painlessly)

zinc shimmering insight cognizant ability
likened to ode to Grecian urn vase frieze
depicting ever closely captured thought
process, cuz lifespan shorter than a wink
king third eye blind comfortably numb beatle browser.
Glenn Currier Feb 26
Last night sitting on the edge of my bed
a bed that seemed more like a ledge
there with a burden in my head:
Should I look up or just feel the dread?

I sat longer and I think I prayed.
I knew he was a God who cared,
but lately on the verge of afraid,
my faith seemed weak and impaired.

I wondered if they were right
that the short blast of rays
won’t hurt and will kill the blight
the doctors say is in its early phase.

But why pray to a God who seemed unable
to help my aunt who died
from a disease so unstable,
so good at finding places to hide?

So here I was, teetering between trust
and its evil opposite, doubt
doubt he can alter life’s thrust.
Does he have any real clout?

In this dark of mind
I came to see I really don’t know!
So why let my inner skeptic always lurking behind
reign and empower its verdict of no?

Instead I choose to lift my head
from that lonely fretting place
and embrace a Father not gone and dead -
but here, now to create and renew me with grace.

“Teetering,” Copyright © 2018 by Glenn Currier
I recently got a diagnosis that I am not obsessing about but I find it is somehow sneaking into my subconscious as fear and has caused me to reflect on my relationship with God.
Sophie Hartl Mar 2017
Almost two years ago I wrote about how he told me
that we always had to question ourselves,

Almost two years later I read about the works of
Descartes, Aristotle, and other influential philosophers,

I begin to question all I know,
from whether the finger I write with writes what I or what it wants,

I’m skeptical of whether I am;
If I am, why? Why me?

I also realise how irrelevant it is
for me to worry about feelings and love and pain,

Almost two years ago I wrote daily
about myself as an object with experience

Now I write with skepticism
What’s the point anyways?
Currently discovering that studying for my philosophy exam makes me want to procrastinate, go figure
Brent Kincaid Mar 2017
I hope you understand
Why I do not believe in you.
From the evidence at hand;
The many things you choose not to do.
I’d vilify a human friend
Who told me like you did
Of how you were watching
Then ran away and hid.

Children keep dying
The poor and the weak too
And you still seem to find
No cause to see them through;
To put clothes on the backs
Of those who are in need.
Nor do you strike down
Those who worship greed.

Your followers tell lies
And expect us to believe
And demand we ignore
Those who suffer and grieve
If they are different
From those in power.
Their speeches all the same
It’s never our hour.

It’s always time for tithes
The bribes they demand
But paying back so seldom
Is ever quite at hand.
It’s always time for us to
Have sympathy and charity
But not for the rich and strong.
Where is the parity?

So, if you create everything
And see the falling sparrow
Why are you deaf so often
Your vision so damn narrow?
It’s been thousands of years
Since your supposed first night.
When will you fix things
And set your world aright?

Could it be, as I always say
That you really don’t exist?
I see no reason to believe,
Thus I must insist;
There cannot be a loving god
Unless he is one of many.
Either way, I fail to see
The proof that we have any.
Snotty VX Jan 2017
There are people to miss, we've seen so much.
It's all behind us now.
Everything. A memory.
A branding of chemicals in our cerebrum.
Every millisecond of our so-called existence.
Every heart beat.
It's but a principal of physics.
Maybe nothing more than that?
It's all just it our heads.
We're all just in our heads.
Our heads are in our heads.
Our heads are a myth.
Everything made up by our heads is a myth.
Nothing more,
But what we refer to as,
The big vaccuum.
Lil' Tarzan Dec 2016
It truly is that simple; if you want Truth, change your chapter of story. If you want a lie, keep re-reading your past chapters repetitively, possibly driving you insane.
Alva Cardona Nov 2016
Haiku #1

When passion burns out,
it buries love in fire;
turns it to ashes.

Haiku #2

Love's no mystic spell;
no witchcraft or voodoo, just
ancient alchemy.

Haiku #3

No magic, no fate;
nothing occult behind love,
just unknown science.

Haiku #4*

The gypsy will read
the tarot, show "The Lovers"
card. The deck is rigged.
(4 Haikus)
Aubrey Lee Ann Sep 2016
Is anything real anymore,
except all these whores?
I can't help but be skeptical,
it seems like everything is mythological.  

Does anyone know how to feel,
or am I an apple in an orange's peel?
All the talk of this and that,
but none of it is matter-of-fact.

Is this the truth I'm seeing now,
or have I been tricked again somehow?
It seems like we're a new race,
it's different to talk face to face.

What has technology done,
look at what we have become.
All we know are our phones,
it's time to create some new tones.

We need to change,
things shouldn't be this way.
Is anything real anymore,
except all these whores?

I cant help but be skeptical,
it seems everything is mythological.
As I age,
I am losing interest in Religion.
To me,
The primary focus of Religion
Is to restrain human sexuality.
"Don't grab her ass!"
Economic Justice
And Ecological Sustainability
Are far behind this Obsession
With Sexual Propriety.
Some people even say
That the Rev. Dr. Martin Luther King Jr.
And Mahatma Gandhi
Were nothing more than Philandering Perverts.
If you're feeling angry or anxious,
What is the best thing to focus on?
Sex, of course!
You can't remain stuck in your Anger or Anxiety
And focus on some "Hot Thing",
As Prince described
If Sexual Liberation leads to LESS Violence,
Why are so many Religions
Puritanical in their attitudes towards Sex?
The Monotheistic Religions
Trace their origins
In "Divine Revelation",
All the Prophets were,
What we would now describe
As "mentally ill"
And those who "worshiped the golden calf"......
The "idolators"
Were actually the embodiment
Of the direction we need to go in
If we're gonna' survive.
Right now,
Religious Sectarian Wars,
Especially among Muslims
Are normal and common,
And people who are not "believers"
Profit by exploiting this religious fervor
And using it
To divide and conquer.
Is BELIEF really such a good thing?
Would the Believers be exploited less
If they were SKEPTICS
Rather than believers?
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