This post from Free Thought Blogs is so on the money about why I am an atheist. Some may have wondered, why I have become so much more outspoken about my atheism recently. It is because I recently started caring about politics and holy rusted metal Batman! the political bull that gets carried out in the name of righteousness. It seems to me that freedom of religion in this country no longer means, “let me worship the god/s of my choosing”, but rather freedom to discriminate, freedom to act on hate and the freedom to control the rights of others.
I am not ok with employers denying medical coverage for birth control to employees if it is mandated for all other employers. I am not ok with a tax exempt status for organizations that are not obligated to the same anti-discrimination laws as every other organization. I’m not ok with church run schools forfeiting state championships because a girl is playing on the other team. I’m not ok with denying the right to marry the person of your choosing to any human being. I’m not ok with a single person who holds their relationship with an invisible god above any real tangible relationship with a human being who needs and loves. I’m not ok with the degradation of women. I’m not ok with any person controlling the state of my uterus except me. I’m not ok with any war carried out against an “evil”.
That’s what’s up.
Filed under Atheism Atheist
Krissy’s are here! http://krissyranae.com/2012/05/01/another-one-pulled-from-a-song/
boots and fists to pound on the pavement
the streets, they rumble
as pedestrians pass.
they walk, strut, jog
their way into homogeneity
uninterrupted
pavement pulsing,
the life, the blood
the heartbeat
no one step has any influence
there is no individual
but the city
she is each. and all.
years go by and hearts start to harden
once pliant
almost even meek
with a heart that bounces
she was eager tot please
eventually, disappointed
a single cell in her heart
crystallized
a protection for the future.
with a whince she skipped on
again a let down
bigger than the last
two cells then
boys came and went
and left their marks as well
the years passed
and the scars piled u
now a solid mass
and the shell
built to keep a heart safe
is in danger of shattering.
This is a little journal entry I made on OKCupid.
Sometimes I get a little frustrated with OKC chat. I had it off for years (yeah, no comments on the years part mkay?). I feel like it is almost impossible to get to know someone in a text message, or a chat window. Not impossible. It’s just chat. And ‘chat’ as a word does not bring to mind life altering ideas and conversation. It brings to mind awkward conversations in the smoking area or standing in the frozen food section with melting ice cream.
I spend my life away from home and I know meaningful internet communication is possible. Maybe I’m stuck in the past. Five years ago when texting cost people money. But if you want to get to know me. Write me. Write me about your day. Write me about why you decided to write me. Write me about picking a goddamned wall color.
I have heard many times and you have read in many profiles (statistically, you probably even write in your own) that you hate writing about yourself. I mean, so do I. But it is a necessary evil. And does writing to all of us that you don’t like it make you sound like someone we want to talk to? But you gotta. We are right now trying to stand out as not just strangers on the internet, but interesting people that are worthy of real, live, make-me-a-part-of-your-life attention.
A lot is lost in text and even more in a chat window. I won’t take it to texting until I’m sold you are someone I want to know. After you’ve maintained my attention with letters on OKC, then maybe you’ll get my actual email address. Some success there will probably find us meeting in person. Then comes the number. The number is a hard fought reward. The number signifies, you might need to get a hold of me quickly because our plans have changed and even more importantly, we made plans. It isn’t, a means to get to know me.
Remember life is just a memory - And this is what I remember.
Underneath the hawthorn tree,
blossoms overhead,
and a hand lingered on a branch, too shy.
With unknown meaning I asked you
to be my boyfriend.
Underneath the hawthorn tree,
I wish you were now
standing again with me.
Sun soaked skin
our hair was long
my shorts were cutoff
and yours, they sagged.
Granite beaches, grass and pine.
Summers were long and
stars, they shined.
together we walked
the gravelly road.
And in your jacket, I slept.
The sweet smell of hay,
you probably hate, spending
all morning in the stalls.
You rushed to shower it off,
but for a moment
when you dashed by
I filled my lungs
and smiled.
Fudge-sicles and crossword puzzles.
In the afternoon, after school.
To laugh with you now in the grass.
I treated you horribly.
I was dumb,
and we were young.
and now it’s all past.
Please check out Krissy’s too!
Filed under Lyrics to Poems
Krissy’s poems can be found here!
I was short on time and inspiration this week. Even though I picked the song, I found that every time I tried to think about it I just ended up singing Everlong. Maybe some songs are so right, they are perfect as they are.
Breathe out
so I can breathe you in
A divining rod, thirsty and dry, I’m pulled
to you. A gravity so subtle, I couldn’t know to fight.
Escaping from your parting lips, a sigh, soft and light
and greedily I drink. A draught so sweet,
pulled deep into my core. And I am
quenched.
When I sing along with you
A ringing disharmony
words we barely kknow, but it
doesn’t matter.
Hips swing and sway, the notes can barely escape
for smiles spreading across our face.
And the joy of being alive
knocks out a beat in my frame.
Filed under LyricstoPoem
The below sounds sad. But don’t worry, I’m not sad. Not now. I spent a long, long time in that depressed place only a loved one can send you, but now that I’ve come out the other side, I’m a ridiculous, optimistic fool. However, what can you do with a break up song? I think I finish on a high note.
Here are Krissy’s!
When I know you’re not around
I pick my nose. It’s true.
But that doesn’t surprise you.
When the sweats come on and the hair goes down,
when you are gone.
My web searches get unsavory
and only Google knows me now.
The recycling piles up and the bottles are noisy,
and only the trash man knows me now.
Before you return I shower. Long and hot.
Scrub my dirty off. Paint my fresh face back on.
Smile.
No one knows me now.
Thirty notes in the mailbox
will tell you when I’m coming home.
I’ve been gone 60 days
and thought of nothing but you.
Messages every day.
How many ways can I say I miss you.
But you stopped responding.
You found a way to fill the empty time without me.
Thirty messages in your inbox remain unchecked.
and I come home alone.
I didn’t feel so bad ‘til the sun went down.
Ghost and goblins jump at me.
Shadows in the corners and monsters under the bed.
When the chills start, I can’t get it out of my head.
I’m cold and alone.
But it’s me. I’m the boogieman.
I have nothing to fear, but the only thing I can’t flee.
No one to lie and protect me, I must be my own hero.
With armor of reeds and an arrowless bow
she succombs. So quickly. So easy.
When I look to the mirror now I see her and me.
Together.
When the sun goes down, I don’t feel bad.
Not anymore.
Filed under LyrictoPoem
Is this the sweet voice that calls the young sailors?
the crash and the call of the sea
it sings to us sweetly
promise of adventure
of trials and treasure
concealed by the waves
where sky meets the earth’s end
the horizon is where it begins
What’s so amazing that keeps us stargazing?
unknown and hidden
locked in shadow
sheltered from our piercing gaze
one at a time the colors are freed
a vision each alone
one more beside it
incredible depth is revealed
side by side even brighter
infinitely more than the sum
Rainbows are visions but only illusions
fleeting it passes
the moment it ends
no scar left behind.
why do we bother
to flash our colors
a sight that cannot last?
the joy of an instant
single beat of a heart
is reason alone to live
Linky to Krissy’s!
Filed under LyrictoPoem
I’m going to try this thing with my Semi-Crazy Blonde Girl.
She recently wrote up some poems that were inspired by lyrics to a song. This should be a fantastic exercise for me and having a friend to keep me motivated is exactly what I need.
I’m responsible for our first song choice so I’m going through the songs on my laptop while I really should be sleeping. So far I have discovered that I cannot use any Decemberists songs. Colin Meloy has already made poems out of them. So maybe something more superficial?
I have an idea, but I’m still browsing…
I’m scared to say those words out loud. Not because I am ashamed, on the contrary I am proud to be who I am and believe what I believe. I’m scared because there are usually very strong reactions to this statement. There are the responses of the faithful, who try to scare me into belief or lure me with false statements of understanding. But really, I’m more afraid of other Atheists. Often, this statement will segue into a tirade on the faithful. They are referred to as hypocrits, ignorant and all other manner of things often associated with the faithful by atheists.
However, I believe none of these things. Individuals are individuals. I can understand and sympathize with many. Most of the people I love are among the faithful and I love them. I believe that atheist and believer alike can be friends and live in harmony and I strive to live that example.
I felt I needed the above preface to follow up with what I really wanted to talk about, death, grief and consolation.
Usually at the time of death, friends and family try to console one another with musings of “a better place”, a plan, or a future reunion in a heavenly setting. But for those of us who do not have any faith or belief in “a better place”, an Architect or a life after death, these consolations have the opposite effect. They anger and infuriate. They remind us that you really don’t understand how we are feeling right now and we feel even more alone than we did before you brought a god into it. We cannot take solace in the idea that we will see our loved ones again, we are instead coping with the fact that we will never see them again, that they no longer exist outside of our own memories and the memories of our loved ones. This is the place we are in emotionally and mentally. We are trying to accept this when everyone around us is insisting that we don’t have to and it is impeding our progress and recovery.
I am saying this not to sway anyone to my side of the line, but rather to remind us all to be considerate of the state of our friends and loved ones in their times of mourning. It is not the time to proselytize, for either an atheist, or a believer. Nothing makes you feel less valued as a person than to hear your loved ones use your grief as an opportunity to bring their own beliefs to the spotlight.
I followed a rabbit hole of links today my believing friend Krissy started me on and I ended up at True Love Studios, thoughtful and considerate consolations regarding loss that leave out beliefs in an Almighty. It made me feel so good to be understood when it comes to my own (past) grief. I’ll leave you with a little list of things that help console atheists in times of grief.
1 - Reflecting on the life we shared with our loved ones.
2 - The knowledge that suffering, has come to an end.
3 - Lost loved ones will always be in our hearts and our memories.
4 - Live our life to the fullest and waste not a second, because it is all we have.
5 - Reminding and appreciating the loved ones we have with us right now.
6 - Our loved ones are here for us and are hurting with us.
Remember to love each other.
Filed under grief atheism consolation
Stage - Brandi M
A coach?
A phase?
A performance?
This journey.
This life.
This place.
The end
will find you.
I struggled with this hard. I have absolutely no inspiration from this prompt. I look forward to reading the others and seeing what actual writers could do with this. Really all you get from me are notes, that I pretend make a poem.
Image from DeviantArt BeanHugger
Filed under nightmare fuel short story writing exercise online literature creepy