Let Your Gods Strike Me Dead

Strike me dead if your musty books and archaic mouthings are not just empty bullshit

See me off to some fairytale eternal perdition if only I won’t ever have to see you again

A pox on your fictional jealous final judgments and everlasting rewards

Your comical vestments do not awe me and your pomp is way outdated

Do not try to explain the world to me with your antiquated inventions

Strike me dead if you do not just prey upon the feeble using dusty fairy tales

These Christian and Islamic myths are but especially virulent forms of thought control

Your expensive shrines are merely tools in your delusional self-promotion

Can you ensure that I will not share a place in heaven with the likes of you?

Your theological studies at religious universities are a useless waste of time

Strike me dead if all your learning is worth even one day of honest community service

Foolish debates over fictional scriptural minutiae do not constitute research

The brutal wars you sanction time and again are evidence of a deep sickness

Your uncritical promotion of man’s separation from nature is truly evil

Your moldy scholars have not advanced a new thought for a thousand years

Strike me dead if love, mercy and understanding flow from your actions

Strike me dead if a woman cannot equally serve God alongside men in this life

Torture me in hell if humor is not just as holy as your dark and brooding grimness

That natural catastrophe is punishment for non-believers is simply sinful nonsense

Mumbling that our misfortunes are signs of his mystery is but a smelly crock of shit

Demanding his retribution on the infidels by the faithful is a heinous crime

Strike me dead if your large part in the New World genocide was simply god’s will

Purporting to interpret god’s word on social issues should land you in psychotherapy

Saying that god requires beards and burkahs is pitifully comical, at best

Fondling frightened boys in your church ought to have brought on His lightning

Mumbling obeisance five times a day only impresses the poor, ignorant and stupid

Strike me dead if dietary restrictions have anything to do with heaven

Your criminal sales pitch is solely based on calming a fear of the unknowable realm of death

Fomenting deadly sectarian violence over ancient nonsense should land you in jail

Declaring the primacy of one faith over any other should be treated as truly feeble humor

Saints and their miracles are merely a transparent form of childish fiction

Strike me dead if self-serving pre-masticated dogma is not the source of all your wisdom

Everyday Senseless Slaughter

As they are sitting quietly

Reading and relaxing in a friendly coffee shop

A man with an automatic weapon opens fire by the register

          killing a young couple heading out the door

         

Strolling through a produce market

          On a pleasant Sunday morning

A truck bomb explodes just up the block

          You note the blood that mixes in the gutter

with the ashy residue & water from the fire trucks

Enjoying the comfort of your cozy beach hotel room

          An explosion rips the air

Screams mix with the sounds of collapsing stairs

          A man walks by in a daze

So much blood streaming from his head

Children crowd around for candy from the friendly soldiers

          Suddenly a trucks pulls up and explodes right into their faces

Though it makes no sense to us, these martyr bombers are those that go to heaven

          Killing children who dare take sweets from the hated enemy

In the dark of night jets howl in and rockets streak the air

          Innocents within their paths are simply collateral destruction

Young men left alive but deafened do not share the scripted vision

          And rush to join the righteous folly of the deadly orgy

Smiling in a nightclub on a balmy night

dancing without a care while on a dream vacation

unexpectedly a tremendous explosion all around

          and uncounted screams pierce the smoke-filled air

snarled once again in the endless traffic

          between burned out vehicles and military checkpoints

the insurgent in a truck that stops unexpectedly up ahead

          becomes a blessed martyr as her body parts rain down

eating with your company, safe within your post

          the bomber’s body does not shield you

from its thick wrapping of nails and ball bearings

          propelled by the explosives strapped snugly to his tummy

teacher starts a lesson and the children pay attention

          freedom fighters enter, punctuating praise of god with explosions

teacher takes a bullet and screaming parents gather in the street

          troops storm the school and little children jump from windows

cleaning up the bloody carnage there comes an overwhelming shame

gathered together in an ancient shrine on a holy day

          fifty die and hundreds bleed when an infidel blows himself apart

wailing survivors scratch through the debris in search of their fallen

          and vow revenge for the loved ones lost in their defiled sanctuary

low-level micro-manager returns to the break room for more coffee

          dissatisfied ex-worker somehow  gains entrance to the building

shots ring out in carefully planned locations bringing on a pandemonium

          manager and former worker share bullets over their spilled coffee

loyal members of the gang must avenge the latest killing

          there is no room in the ride for the brother in the wheelchair

driving by, their shots ring out and citizens scatter

          a dirty homeless vet and a little schoolgirl lack the proper moves

mourning another loss at the too-familiar cemetery

          the howl of rockets descend both on the dead and the grieving

the black mourning clothes of a young woman soak up her blood so well

          old and young alike commence a gruesome, helpless wailing

she sits chatting in the auditorium, her assignment has been done

          sound of popping gunfire from somewhere close behind

she stands and looks around and takes a bullet in the head

          he was a quiet former student they said, but he’d gone off his meds