I know this isn't the typical type of post, but I have a point, I swear.
I wrote this today, and I felt the need to share it. It highlights the dangers of belief [as many claims I have heard define it as something harmless and personal] among other things. I think it's pretty to the point:

I

“Are you real?” I asked her,
And she laughed,
“Does it matter?”

II

I woke up and found a Bible in my bed
L e a k i n g blood,
Some crusted and some
Fresh.
My trembling fingertips hug my sides; I’m convulsing. I
Thought that I
Was the one who was
Bleeding.

There’s that story
About that wife
Who disobeyed
Was turned to salt
Just for looking back.
Well,
My opened eyes are
l e a k i n g salt,
Just for
Looking.

III

I woke up and saw an angel above my bed.
“Are you real?” I asked her,
And she laughed,
“Does it matter?”

II

I woke up swathed in crimson covers,
Convulsing,
Cold,
Kicking
Underneath
My navel,
And in the distance I
Heard a baby cry –
But the distance consisted of my
Ignorance, because
The cry was the intertwining of
His and mine –
A convulsing
Cold
Kicking
Christ.

My rapist was covered in red on the bedside table,
His pages and folds mocking
The folds of my own
From which he stole my virginity.

“Thou shalt not kill?” I begged
In the tone of
Why?
And his binding trembling
As he chuckled,
Thou.”

I

“Are you real?” I asked her,
And she winked,
“So long as you think I am.”



But, I digress.
Does anyone know of any creative atheist literature? Something that isn't nonfiction but has an atheist agenda? If there isn't, there should be.

Tags: angel, bible, creative, fiction, hypocrisy, literature, poetry, reality, violence

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I could not resist posting my poem. Perhaps you have started something here.

WHAT WOULD YOUR JESUS DO NOW?

Inhumanity

to fellow man

the little child

abused

beaten,

bruised

surviving off rubbish tips

What would your jesus do now?


Where money counts

for more than food in a belly

arms are sold for money.

there are those who would create an underprivileged Nation.

accept a Dictator

without reason

without question

without comeuppance

now the wealthy given preference over the poor

yet the Pope now tells us

excessive wealth

is now a sin?

So what would Your Jesus do now?



2008/9 Elaine Kilshaw
An open atheist poetry forum would be amazing! Thank you for posting this.
I recomend you-The God Delusion by Richard Dawkins
No offence, but you just wasted precious keyboard surface on typing that. I doubt there is a single person on TA that hasn't heard of or read The God Delusion.
So?How should I know?You wasted precious keyboard surface by telling me that.Jerk...
Hah what a troll. Ignore him.
I plan on reading it, thank you!
Wow. That was great. What's the purpose of the I-II-III-II-I segments? I'm not really much into poetry(although I wrote a killer poem about the seasons in college). I'm more into writing fiction.
I wanted it to parallel the segmented sections of the Bible, but even more, it makes it circular; the entire thing rounds back to phase one in the last stanza. Because this kind of belief is a rather vicious cycle, both for the issues that arise for the church as well as for individual, if I say so myself.
I like fiction better too, though. There's more fun to be had with characters =]
I really like it! Very creative, and great use of imagery in blending together the portrayal of religion as an intellectual rape or mental abortion. I started a discussion for poets on the Atheist Writers group a few months ago, but I must confess that I have not been particularly active lately. A few of us did share some commentary on a couple of poems, and some were atheistic in nature if I recall correctly.

I have written a few poems specifically addressing religion, and I think that this one is my favorite:


Sibyl

Scintillating sibyl,
Your fair words soothe
Cloak of the faithful
Shrouds mortal truth.

Chase an epiphany
Elusive papillon
Alights on fine stem
Lies ever beyond.

Seductive sibyl,
Your wayward thighs sway
The erotic esoteric
Belies your underlay.

Those cutting motives hidden
In gilded sheath on splendid hip
I know now to fear
The poison from your lip.

(I'm still need to tinker with a few word choices and smooth out the awkward meter, but it is what it is for now. :D )
Intellectual rape is exactly what I was going for. Yay!
I just wrote a poem on the priesthood and delivered it to my class (screaming, I might add) - the reaction was perfect. People said they were terrified. Maybe I'll join the group and post it =]
Yay! I'm actually thinking of starting a new group just for poetry; it really is an entirely different animal than prose and fiction.
Insomnia is inspiring me to participate in this thread (just because it's an interesting thread), though this will probably be the first poem I've written since high school (eight years ago?). Be forewarned, poetry was never one of my strong suits.

Here goes nothing:

Godless you and godless I,
Skyward looking, nothing find
But grey clouds lit up yellow —
The fluorescent grace of Man.

Fluorescent lights above us.
Lamps shine beneath nothing skies.
We walk over nothing streets,
Finding something in nothing.

Soundless, soulless nothing night,
Solace from their godly lives.
They, the goodly godly men
And women, hiding in prayers.

Godly women, godly men,
Godly unions, godly vows,
Sunday lip service define
Reasons not to live… and love,

For godly “love” loves only
Those distortions it creates,
And casts off imperfections
That make human beings whole.

“Proper” women, “proper” men
Are little more than fractions,
Mere vestiges of humans,
Acting out parts on a stage.

So be no more a woman;
I will be no more a man —
Two pulses beating equal
In irregular rhythm.

Palm kiss palm, we leave the lights
Of city streets, head through the trees,
To where no light but moonlight
Shines on silver blades of grass.

Here no eyes of women or
Men or gods can reach us in
Our naked, unrepentant,
Fragile, scarred humanity.

Scars upon your naked arm
You, yourself, with razor blades
Cut, and watched your own flesh bleed,
Then hid it all from the world.

I would make the world shut up
And destroy any god that would
Ever make you feel ashamed
For being just as you are…

…If I could, but I cannot,

So,

I will hold you close to me,
Place my lips upon your scars,
Kiss you, all of you, perfect,
Imperfect, whole, beautiful.

I cannot love god because I still love humanity.
Humanity, I must love just the same as I love you.

--------------------

Arg... that felt like a disaster. I feel oddly embarrassed by it, but... whatever; it is what it is.

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