Dante, Do Pass the Prozac!

If being an Ethical Humanist

with a freedom of speech;

or without shame, chose a hedone

while aware in choices of responsibility:

if these make me an Infidel – so be it!

Let others convert and fight and kill

in the name of their wisdoms and myths

spilled in ink, clung to with blood

(necessities which then hold false

the reason, blind faith or practices others

but oh - most certainly not their own).

So stride each, these self-supposed privileged,

blinded multitudes-diverse,

separated all in time and faith and space,

bowed, obedient, lined abreast, abject, before

who begat who’s, omnipotent,

singular and benevolent, borrowed eye

which then thinks the thoughts divine

guaranteed to raise up whole upon high

just `them`

imaginings everlastingly sustained,

earthly yearnings forever preserved

as semi-indestructible mortality:

a gossamer laminated wisp

of the morphing ego

seeking meaning, acceptance, and order;

assured of its own salvation

with whispered certainties

while suckling on the self-love

of empty oaths and promises –

pleasures to come

postponed purpose

a more deserved existence

and, the earthly greed of need for reward.

Ah yes, when the throned Creator calls

to below that Holy in the sky

(from where  even Angels

have felt so urged to fall)

Creation but wills in death

to (deep opiated) see

unique -

a thread of self left whole

beyond, the prisons of mind

and stardust’s feasts of time.

Ah yes, when the throned Creator calls

to those born into, chosen, baptized,

reborn, saved and/or anointed;

the faithful of these ever changing

one, only one, and truly true beliefs

find them then as herded flock

suspended thus in eternal peace

now beyond all time’s wounds

and cares of earthly strife

most pleasantly, embalmed alive

(sensated full in blessedness and love)

singing hosannas of praise

ringing deliverance devine

united with their kin of sure faith

secure and self-congratulated

proud and triumphant

(still unquestioning)

simply because it's written

in a now yellowed ink

transcribed from the fleeting

but perfect hands of man.

Ah yes, when the throned Creator calls

to below HisHer Holy in the sky

know  soon will the chosen,

embraced by winged images

fields and clouds Elysian,

be renewing conversations

with the loved and long departed

sweetly renewing ego’s aged memories

waiting pressed and held preserved

upon some ancient and eternal

photographic plate.

But dare one deny or fail -

a sure flavour of an age

don’t pass go  –

lose 2oo dollars

and oh yes

for heresy; persecution -

and - welcome to hell!

Piss on your certainty

if it need include me,

I am proud in the liberty

of this life and this land

to know my Godhead of Thanks

both is,

and is not,

yours.

Bad enough St John and Revelations:

Divinity chiseling stone

burning bushes

and a Biblical god promising

the lands and virgins of pillage

but oh god; he, now

dragging another desert religion

into the 21^thcentury

still self proclaimed the baddest

(but mind you, “just a man”)

ultimate and final word

as the last of God’s true prophets.

Deny his delusions

at the peril of your life and soul

his Gabriel, winged beasts

and magical tours of heaven;

desert truths,

virgins and young boys serving

sweet fruit at an oasis

of an imagined life

which, would hold deny

the primacy of

this, our clear gift on earth.

(Me,

I think I’d sooner drink with Milarepa

from the nectar of Consciousness

attainable here and now in the

Clear Light of the Void

or, if I must dream -

dream then and toast

with mead and song in Valhalla).

You of your sure and single paths:

Deists and their sheep

jihadists and their disease

of certainty and  absolutism -

Pity and shame on them all!

Oh Dante, (step out of the Inferno)

and do, pass the Prozac!

(5 January '07)