Strident Atheists' Pre-Election Poll

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ASCII symbols? God?

Are you not a baby eater?

Brought to you by the theistic committee with no name.

Eating babies is a lifestyle choice. There is nothing wrong with it.

God?

Eating babies is a lifestyle choice. There is nothing wrong with it.

That's a beautiful poem in your siggy.

Absolutely not ever!! !

Eating babies is a lifestyle choice. There is nothing wrong with it.

Placentas aren't babies. They don't seem so delicious to me. Interestingly, I had a bit of a visceral reaction to eating that, BUT, I recognize deep down that this is a horrendously irrational action.

I assume babies are more like veal...except with more bones.

Apparently human flesh tastes like pork. Apparently.

It's really great It's a poem called on a dream by Keats, based on Dante's Inferno. Dante's original canto was beautiful written, but it was lacking the poignancy of Keat's interpretation

I was angry with my friend:
I told my wrath, my wrath did end.
I was angry with my foe:
I told it not, my wrath did grow.

And I watered it in fears,
Night and morning with my tears;
And I sunned it with smiles,
And with soft deceitful wiles.

And it grew both day and night,
Till it bore an apple bright;
And my foe beheld it shine,
And he knew that it was mine,

And into my garden stole,
When the night had veiled the pole:
In the morning glad I see
My foe outstretched beneath the tree.

I laid me down upon a bank,
Where Love lay sleeping;
I heard among the rushes dank
Weeping, weeping.

Then I went to the heath and the wild,
To the thistles and thorns of the waste;
And they told me how they were beguiled,
Driven out, and compelled to the chaste.

I went to the Garden of Love,
And saw what I never had seen;
A Chapel was built in the midst,
Where I used to play on the green.

And the gates of this Chapel were shut
And "Thou shalt not," writ over the door;
So I turned to the Garden of Love
That so many sweet flowers bore.

And I saw it was filled with graves,
And tombstones where flowers should be;
And priests in black gowns were walking their rounds,
And binding with briars my joys and desires.

Are we contributing favourite Victorian era poems? This then, is mine.

Hap
-----
If but some vengeful god would call to me
From up the sky, and laugh: “Thou suffering thing,
Know that thy sorrow is my ecstasy,
That thy love’s loss is my hate’s profiting!”

Then would I bear, and clench myself, and die,
Steeled by the sense of ire unmerited;
Half-eased, too, that a Powerfuller than I
Had willed and meted me the tears I shed.

But not so. How arrives it joy lies slain,
And why unblooms the best hope ever sown?
—Crass Casualty obstructs the sun and rain,
And dicing Time for gladness casts a moan….
These purblind Doomsters had as readily strown
Blisses about my pilgrimage as pain.

Thomas Hardy - 1866.

"Her penultimate sighs
Called softly on the kindling winds
Her saintly eyes, filling with tears, lifting with truth
And then a golden flash like the onset of Heaven
Leaving her screams, Breaking my heart
And in the grip of fire
I knew the death of love"

Where will you be when they tense for warfare?
What will you see with your innocence there?
Where will you be my darling?
Where will you be when they tense for warfare?

Where will you be when God is glorifying?
There we will be between the dead and dying
Where will you be my darling?
Where will you be when God is glorifying?

Prophecies and glory forge a massive disdain
For lying passive in the shadows whilst the enemy reigns
Devoted to the votive, holy standard above
'By command of the king of Heaven'
Came the death of love

Where will you be when they're vilifying?
How will they see when the truth is blinding?
Where will you be my darling?
Where will you be when they're vilifying?

Where will you be when the dark is rising?
How will you keep from it's terrorizing?
Where will you be my darling?
Where will you be when the dark is rising?

Burning was the sunset like a portent of doom
On the saintly iron maiden as she fell from her wound

But visions and ambition
Never listened to submission
And she was on a mission from the highest above
To Lord upon the slaughter
Like a sword through hissing water
She arose where archers sought her
For the death of love

The righteous death of love

Gilles adored her drama
Her suit of pure white armour
Blazed against the English in a torrent of light

And as they rallied onto night
A cancer fled his soul
Dissolving...

Framed amid the thick of fire
Aflame, a Valkyrie
She made him click without desire
And in his eyes she swam a Goddess

And even when they caught her breath
Her words would leave a scar
'For only in the grip of darkness
Will we shine amidst the brightest stars'

How will you breathe when their wheels are turning?
How will you know if the sky is burning?
Where will you be my darling?
How will you breathe when their wheels are turning?

Where will you be when Babel builds my fire?
Will you not flee and label me pariah?
Where will you be my darling?
Where will you be when they light my pyre?

Aligned with Joan in all
That was enthroned and divine
He swore to score the crimes
Jackdaws poured on this dove
Crimes he knew alone
Derived from minds of the blind
The church unfurled for murder perched
Upon the death of love

Framed amid the thick of fire
Aflame, a Valkyrie
She claimed the sky was lit with spires
And in his eyes she swam a Goddess

And even when she fought for breath
Her words would leave a scar
'For only in the grip of darkness
Will we shine amidst the brightest stars'

I don't need to be a global citizen,
'Cuz I'm blessed by nationality.
I'm member of a growing populace,
We enforce our popularity.
There are things that seem to pull us under and,
There are things that drag us down.
But there's a power and a vital presence,
It's lurking all around.

We've got the American Jesus,
See him on the interstate.
We've got the American Jesus,
He helped build the President's estate.

I feel sorry for the Earth's population,
'Cuz so few live in the U.S.A.
At least the foreigners can copy our morality,
They can visit but they cannot stay.
Only precious few can garner our prosperity,
It makes us walk with renewed confidence.
We got a place to go when we die,
And the architect resides right here.

We've got the American Jesus,
Bolstering national faith.
We've got the American Jesus,
Overwhelming millions every day.

He's the farmer's barren fields, (In God)
The force the army wields, (We trust)
Expressions on the faces of the starving millions, (Because He's one of us)
The power of the man, (Break down)
He's the fuel that drives the Klan, (Cave in)
He's the motive and the conscience of the murderer, (We can redeem your sins)
He's the preacher on T.V., (Strong heart)
The false sincerity, (Clear mind)
The form letter that's written by the big computers, (And infinitely kind)
The nuclear bombs, (You lose)
The kids with no moms, (We win)
And I'm fearful that he's inside me... (He is our champion)

We've got the American Jesus
See him on the interstate
We've got the American Jesus
Exercising his authority
We've got the American Jesus
Bolstering national faith
We've got the American Jesus
Overwhelming millions every day

One nation, under God...