How do i tell him.
How do i tell the stary eyed boy within,
The prospects of your dreams seem dim.
I tell him i tried and tried but its rather grim,
I gave them my all but in turn lost limbs;
My limbs of love, hope, and peace gone on a whim,
And those who cut them hold no remorse within.
So how do i tell the boy... with a grin?
Or do i give him a bottle of gin,
For who shall pay for this sin.
How do i tell him,
It ends the way the story begins.

Why do many religious folks
Tend to get their feathers ruffled
If people say they are atheists?
Why should atheists have to be muffled?

Atheists are often considered
The devil incarnate or evil unveiled.
They are attacked, their lives are threatened,
They're ostracized and even jailed--

Done in the "name of God," of course.
Oh, the reasons that people give
In countries all over the world where people
Refuse to practice "live and let live"!

Do we need a god to tell us
How to live or how to behave?
If I blindly follow dogma,
Don't I become religion's slave?

Constantly seeking, questioning,
Observing, expressing healthy doubt,
Exploring the many facets of life,
Discovering what life's about,

And learning how to sift through all
The knowledge that we humans have gained
Will help us put more focus on
Issues that can be explained.

Some things, yes, are inexplicable,
Mystifying, beyond our knowing.
A question we must ask ourselves
Should always be "Am I still growing?"

There ARE religious people who aren't
Threatened by what others believe.
Secure in their beliefs, they aren't
Fearful, brain-washed, and naïve.

They do not judge nonbelievers
And tell them they are going to hell.
Tempering their beliefs with love
Is what they do so very well.

And then there are the ones who feel
Compelled to express their condemnation.
They need to mind their OWN business
And worry about their OWN salvation.

If you as a nonbeliever are asked
Your position, a way to convey it
Is merely "I'm an atheist
And I am not afraid to say it."

-by Bob B (1-17-25)

It visited again,
In the way these things often do
Deep Into the quiet of night
.
This night wasn't a lonely one,
Unusual time for such a visitor -
He came as I was cleaning
Knocking at the doors of old keepsakes,
"Remember?" He said, breath on my cheek
Do you remember me?
I pause, watching the pattern of him tracing through every object
The way his wind blew my leaves Into drifts
The way my water dappled his sandy face
The patterns of these things remain
Muscles with memories I never knew
.
The mirror shows me what he might've seen,
Red eyed and pathetic,
Last hope and broken promise
I think he's thinking of me now,
But I don't think he loves me anymore

I see us 6 months ago.
The smiles the banter too and fro.
The way you smiled oh how it glowed,
The way i saw your feelings grow.
But now it is others whom from love flows,
And they look like us ... 6 months ago