Please help me God to live without you

Please help me God to live without you.
Make me a better atheist.
Help me find that inner strength and value
that allows my error to persist.

Please help me God to ignore your commandments.
Make me a sinner and not a saint.
Help me to numb my moral sense.
Help me to live without restraint.

Please help me God to find my own way
without your guidance or assistance.
Help me to make it through this day
and keep your angels at a distance.

Please help me God to curse your name.
Strengthen my will to blaspheme.
Help me to remember and proclaim
the paths that go against the stream.

Please help me God to prove your non-existence.
Furnish my mind with arguments.
Help me to awaken people from this trance
and to discourage their pretense.

Please help me God to burn in hell.
Help me to eradicate your shadow.
Let me break away from your spell
and deal your ghost the final blow.

Please help me God to diminish your flock.
Make me a selfish egotist.
Allow me to administer the shock
and show that You do not exist.

*About the accompanying image for this poem

Myself I do not understand

Myself I do not understand.
Nothing ever goes as planned.
I try to live the best I can,
In this world I am a man.

Myself I do not really doubt,
I am dishonest yet devout.
My silver spoons will never bend,
nature has no final end.

Myself I do not really create,
I am a little quirk of fate.
The world is as it should be,
I am in chains and yet still free.

Myself I do not really trust.
I am driven by greed and lust.
The truth is found between the lies.
It always comes as a surprise.

I ask myself who is this man,
who lives his life the best he can?
Do I know you? From whence you came?
We are so different and yet the same.

I don’t need no prose or art

I don’t need no prose or art
in which to soothe my drained heart.
Many fools have appeared smart –
be it Plato or Descartes.

I don’t need no words of praise
to set my tender mind ablaze.
A sly remark or a witty phrase
can lull my soul into sleep for days.

I don’t need no gods or saints
who would hear out my complaints.
I live my life without restraints,
despite my faults and my taints.

I don’t need no hopes or dreams
to know it’s more than what it seems.
The Moon has its secrets as Sun has its beams,
I walk the line between these two extremes.

I don’t need no love or trust
to feel vibrant and robust.
Within each flame, there reigns a frost.
When fire ends, what else is lost?

Let me write a shitty poem

Let me write a shitty poem,
So that I may win your love.
Memento mori and carpe diem.
There is no holy god above.

Now that I have my first verse written,
I feel good about this crap.
With these words you have been smitten,
I have lured you in my trap.

Where are the worries and the cares?
I laugh at death and so should you.
My mind assumes all lofty airs.
I place all virtues under taboo.

This is how my fourth verse starts.
Nothing fancy, just nonsense.
From common rules this verse departs,
I keep my readers in suspense.

Shall we move to deeper waters
where air is fresh and whether sunny?
Only one thing really matters –
is your purse filled with money?

Now, I may have lost my senses.
Forgive me, please, if that’s the case.
To hell with wisdom and pretenses.
Tell me the truth I have to face.

Though you may dislike this poem,
Remember me – I cursed it first.
Memento mori and carpe diem,
Admit that you have read much worse.

What an artist lives in me

What an artist lives in me.
How far and deep my mind can see.
So I walk. Upright and proud,
Ignoring voices from the crowd.

What words and phrases I can spin.
How much love I hold within.
Lift up your chin and flash a grin,
My soul to you is near akin.

What demons, spirits I possess.
A legion of them, I confess.
In place of No, they say Yes.
I have to live somehow, I guess.

What tales and stories I create.
Some are crooked, some are straight.
To none of them I can relate.
My life is sealed, so is my fate.

What cities, mountains I can build
My hands are able and very skilled.
Gods and angels I have killed.
My days are blessed and fulfilled.

On your foot, my brave comrades

On your foot, my brave comrades,
March towards your bitter end.
Today is ours. We are no nomads.
The steepest hills we shall ascend.

On your marks, my brave brothers,
The world lies at your naked feet.
Leave the foolishness to others.
Leave behind your past defeat.

On your toes, my brave women,
Countless eyes admire you.
Let loose your inner demon,
Allow your dreams to break through.

On your horse, my knight errants
Tonight the moon will shine for us.
All things our fortune forever grants.
No need to get into a fuss.

March on, march on, my brave army
forwards on to the promised land.
Keep your minds from all cares free
Focus on what’s close at hand.

Dear no one in heaven

Dear no one in heaven,
Silence is thy name.
Your kingdom is nothing.
Your will is nothing.
On earth and on heaven, it is nothing.
Give us this day our daily nothing,
And forgive us nothing
As we also have forgiven nothing to you.
And lead us into nothingness
And spare us from our dreams of existence
For Thine is the silence, the void and the abyss,
Forever and ever.
Amen.

Imagine, dear, that this is it

Imagine, dear, that this is it.
No life is waiting for you hereafter.
Would you then stop and quit
or would you burst into laughter?

Imagine, dear, that all hope is gone
and you are crying out for help.
Would you struggle and live on
or would you further cry and yelp?

Imagine, dear, that new life begins
with every conscious breath you take.
Would you then regret your sins
if you’ve made no mistake?

Imagine, dear, that time has stopped
and you are resting on a cloud.
What values would you then adopt
if everything was allowed?

Imagine, dear, that I am dead
and you are reading these lonely verses.
Can you guess what I’ve left unsaid,
With whom my soul here converses?