The Bittersweet Opiate
I was raised in a Catholic household, but no longer subscribe to any specific religion. I consider myself an agnostic who believes in strict evolution. I do however also believe in ones' right to be spiritual and seek enlightenment on ones' own terms, rather than solely following the teachings of just the Bible, Koran, Torah, or some so-called professional interpretor of said books (ie priests and such). I believe that when religion becomes too organized and systematic, it loses its purpose and ability to help a person understand life. I also feel that organized religion as a whole is a terrible place for free thought and thus stifles scientific enlightenment, which is based strictly on tangible fact and not the abstractness of faith.
I feel that too often, people do not want to accept the facts that humans are merely a species that has evolved. Compared to the infinity of the timeline of the universe, we live but short, fleeting lives. Our minds, bodies, and societies will soon cease to be and any tiny trace of such will one day be swallowed by time, leaving no artifcats or signs of our very existance as a race, let alone as an individual. This can be pretty depressing when you think about it. It makes you feel pretty meaningless and even useless in the grand scheme of things, but science and logic tells us that this is the truth.
However, as I find it, most people cannot simply accept these truths and instead search for any sign of significance in their lives. The place where most end up is religion. They live the fantasy that they are uniquely important, created by God, and that one day, they'll be flying as an angel in heaven forever. And sure, I'd like to subscribe to that dream. It is wonderous and gives purpose to our lives, but my calloused sense of logic tells me otherwise.
All of that being said, I'd like to present a poem that I recently wrote that deals with my views on people who run from truth and turn to religion to numb themselves from the real world. In doing so, I feel that they lose their free will and thought. I realize that some people may not like my poem for the message it carries or the sheer fact that I am not a good poet, so I want anyone to feel free to comment, critique, and even criticize all that you want. Emjoy!
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The Bittersweet Opiate
Too many preachers and robe wearing bosses.
Too many speakers that speak of old crosses.
Too many churches and not enough searches
for truth to our real being.
Blind sheep have all stopped their seeing,
that we are but life and death
gone in a breath
no magical heaven to roam.
No eternity to welcome us home.
Like the respite of morning sea foam.
but
you say, "This cannot be!"
"I need a place to go when I die"
"need a place of love"
"need a father above"
"I need a place where I can fly"
You need purpose
some set of rules
ignore the science of tools
and turn to lessons taught by fools, ghouls and jewels.
This dogmatic need
Allows others to plant the seeds,
allows them to plow all your deeds
ignore the whole garden of weeds
that clutter a once blossoming mind.
You allow yourself to be wined
and allow yourself to be dined,
As you drink blood and devour the skin,
you devour the sin,
the soul
the sell
the songs
the scripts
the psalms
the book
the look
the trip
the hands that grip
the mind they rip
the wings they clip
so your will cannot fly on its own.
There is no Heaven.
There is no hell.
The only paradise you've found is alone in your cell.
It is the ignorance you gain,
and the loss of the pain
from the truth you so desperately quell.
~
I feel that too often, people do not want to accept the facts that humans are merely a species that has evolved. Compared to the infinity of the timeline of the universe, we live but short, fleeting lives. Our minds, bodies, and societies will soon cease to be and any tiny trace of such will one day be swallowed by time, leaving no artifcats or signs of our very existance as a race, let alone as an individual. This can be pretty depressing when you think about it. It makes you feel pretty meaningless and even useless in the grand scheme of things, but science and logic tells us that this is the truth.
However, as I find it, most people cannot simply accept these truths and instead search for any sign of significance in their lives. The place where most end up is religion. They live the fantasy that they are uniquely important, created by God, and that one day, they'll be flying as an angel in heaven forever. And sure, I'd like to subscribe to that dream. It is wonderous and gives purpose to our lives, but my calloused sense of logic tells me otherwise.
All of that being said, I'd like to present a poem that I recently wrote that deals with my views on people who run from truth and turn to religion to numb themselves from the real world. In doing so, I feel that they lose their free will and thought. I realize that some people may not like my poem for the message it carries or the sheer fact that I am not a good poet, so I want anyone to feel free to comment, critique, and even criticize all that you want. Emjoy!
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The Bittersweet Opiate
Too many preachers and robe wearing bosses.
Too many speakers that speak of old crosses.
Too many churches and not enough searches
for truth to our real being.
Blind sheep have all stopped their seeing,
that we are but life and death
gone in a breath
no magical heaven to roam.
No eternity to welcome us home.
Like the respite of morning sea foam.
but
you say, "This cannot be!"
"I need a place to go when I die"
"need a place of love"
"need a father above"
"I need a place where I can fly"
You need purpose
some set of rules
ignore the science of tools
and turn to lessons taught by fools, ghouls and jewels.
This dogmatic need
Allows others to plant the seeds,
allows them to plow all your deeds
ignore the whole garden of weeds
that clutter a once blossoming mind.
You allow yourself to be wined
and allow yourself to be dined,
As you drink blood and devour the skin,
you devour the sin,
the soul
the sell
the songs
the scripts
the psalms
the book
the look
the trip
the hands that grip
the mind they rip
the wings they clip
so your will cannot fly on its own.
There is no Heaven.
There is no hell.
The only paradise you've found is alone in your cell.
It is the ignorance you gain,
and the loss of the pain
from the truth you so desperately quell.
~