We Willy Shakespeare is dead and gone
Reading James Joyce I do not yawn
With Russell there is intellectual muscle
Sarte’s existentialism is quite a tussle
As for Freud, his ass was alloyed
I know many will be annoyed
Szasz for reasoning
Is entirely pleasing

I certainly like a challenge
that's fun to try and do
it keeps the brain cells ticking over
while entertaining too.

But as for the subject
a tricky little thought
but never say I backed away
when others say I ought

Do I believe in god?
Which one did you have in mind?
Same meat different gravy
is what I tend to find

There's plenty to pick from
but which one should I choose
It all so bloody complicated
it'll drive me to the booze

I know, I'll pick a nice one
but that's proving tough as well
You know where this one's going
and it has to rhyme with hell

They're all so all encompassing,
to some they have no flaw,
but to me they all seem samey
and I just cannot be sure.

Oh what to do or where to go
the answer must come soon
but I just can't find the difference
as they hum the same old tune.

I think I'm best without one,
that seems what I'll do now,
I can be all the things I want to be
without the need to bow

It's certainly a freedom
to live without restriction,
but with others who still believe
there's a certain amount of friction

But I say to hell with them,
sorry old habits are hard to shed
but I can't resits the next line too,
I'll go where angels fear to tread.

Hope you liked this ditty
It's the best that I could do,
If in doubt, as I was once,
become an atheist too.

There once was a man who said "God
Is really a terrible fraud.
He says what he'll do
Is look after you,
But he's not worth two peas in a pod."

Haven't much to say thats rhyming
Haven't got much head for timing
better go and think this through
or maybe have a cuppa brew.

Thought "I'll give that a go!"
Had reply rhyming and parsed.
Then I decided
I couldn't be arsed.

Study y'all Charles Chilton Moore
Who certainly was not a boor
The Blue Grass Blade gave no shade
To xians nor devils nor saints
One cent for poor 2 cents 4 rich
His paper was world renowned
On MASTHEAD he said the news
Was unique for Prohibitionists
Soley published by HEATHEN but
When sold bible verses untold
Our President McKinley pardoned
Him from behind federal bars

Holy crap, I'm almost level 5! Never knew I could feel so alive!

here's a good thought
that can't be bought
make enemies your friends
one makes amends
for bad deeds that are done
and lies that were spun
it's time to do good and never decease
that time honored idea , peace

I'd like to think the world could teach ,
a new thought every day

And maybe then we all could reach
the place where we could play

With innocence and love and care
and all the thoughts that we could share

So Join in now, dance have some fun,
Laugh a lot - Lifes Not a race to be run

No god I know is still alive -
all five thousand and seven
appear to have died.

I'm not reading this post anymore, as
I would rather go and fcuk a dirty whore

I read your poems and to my dismay I couldn't think of anything to say. A woman of few words I will always be but oh the many things I can learn from thee.

I cooked my lunch, then I ate it
then read this post and contemplated.
Can I converse, but only in verse?
We rhymers can get so frustrated.

OK, here goes:

Fishin'

I searched for a day
And I searched for a god,
And all that I found was a reel and a rod,
I cast out the line, and I prayed for awhile.

I hoped, and I prayed and
I prayed, and I hoped,
But, no answers came,
And I felt like a dope.

But, finally my line did shake
And did pull,
And the fish I pulled in said,
"Lad, yer a fool. No god is a comin'
To save yer sad ass,
So you'd best stop yer wishin'
And set down yer glass.
That whisky yer drinkin'll lead ya astray,
No god is a comin'
Ta save ya this day."

Diabhal, did you craft this just for me?
Did you know that verse runs in my blood--
and when a proper prompt I meet, with glee
my metered rhymes rush, in a flood?

The gauntlet thrown, thus strikes the hack:
with abandon, and aplomb
This poetaster doth attack
with wanton doggerel as bomb

O, spare thine eyes! Preserve thy mind!
Scroll beyond this painful screed!
By accident, I chanced to find
not everyone joys at verse to read!

"Symposiums" they truly scorn
on this discussion site
and scoff when artists dare adorn
the page with poetry they write!

No matter--I shall versify
quite shamelessly and proud
and tremble not, when critics cry
displeasure, shrill and loud

For poetry is life to me
and this be my debate:
that artful words, and writerly
make "conversations" great!

There once was a man from Trent
Who told his priest he could go and get bent.
"I've heard how you toy with all the young boys
and I've decided to help you repent."
"So without further ado it's castration for you
You can now give up sinning for Lent"

Although many folks like to rhyme
And write in steady meter,
The poetry I find most sublime
Bends, like a wind-blown sapling, toward blank verse.

I don't see much need for a deity, which is why I left the laity. I don't have much use for the church's abuse, so I'll go live my life with gaiety.

Man, you’re making me rhyme, so, uh, what is the nature of time?

Idk if I did that right, but if I did, that’s pretty tight.