In his heart the fool will say:
There is a heaven and a god.
Instead of learning he will pray,
meditate and cry aloud.
These filthy little believing beasts
who spread their poison in our midst.
All you prophets, preachers, priests:
You have no right to live, exist.
All you mystics, seekers, saints
who corrupt the youthful minds.
What evils, crimes and moral taints,
in your presence one often finds.
You call your Lord in times of trouble
and you beg for his saving grace.
You’ve been living in one big bubble
shielded from your own true face.
You say that you enjoy god’s bliss
and that you have felt his touch.
What kind of nonsense is this?
Your pretty words do not mean much.
You think that God is by your side
and watches over your every move.
You hold this fancy for your guide
but all this you cannot prove.
You claim that God is beyond reason
and yet your mind is never still.
Beliefs and dogmas are your prison
that you have built at your own will.
*Painting – “The Fool” by Pablo Picasso, 1904.
Some people say their dreams out loud
but I prefer them to enshroud
in darkness, rain, storm and cloud,
with my strength and might endowed.
Some people yearn for gods, spirits
but I prefer my mind and wits.
No exceptions my rule admits.
In my soul no deity fits.
Some people search for happiness
but I prefer to digress
from all the honor and success
to a place with no address.
Some people crave for love and sense
but I prefer to dispense
with such pride and pretense
at my own risk and expense.
Some people want to be great
but I prefer my own fate.
For better days I cannot wait.
To live today – it is too late.
*Painting “Dream of Icarus” by Sergey Solomko
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
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?
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.
My shallow well is very deep.
My narrow path is very wide.
I live this life in my sleep
and hold to nothing as my guide.
My feeble will is very strong.
My foolish thoughts are very wise.
In my beliefs I am never wrong.
I use the truth as a disguise.
My silent voice is very laud.
My anxious heart is very brave.
Of past mistakes I am always proud.
My road to hell I daily pave.
My evil deeds are very kind.
My silly words are very shrewd.
Into the light I lead the blind,
not to enlighten but to delude.
My godless mind is very pious.
My unclean soul is very pure.
I am free from prejudice and bias.
In all I do I feel secure.
My false views are very true.
My clouded senses are very clear.
To all the gods I say: Adieu!
Goodbye to faith and the religious sphere.
When I became convinced that the universe was natural,
That all the ghosts and gods were myths,
There entered into my brain, into my soul, into every drop of my blood,
The sense, the feeling, the joy of freedom.
The walls of my prison crumbled and fell.
The dungeon was flooded with light
And all the bolts and bars and manacles turned to dust.
I was no longer a servant, a serf, or a slave.
There was for me no master in all the wide world, not even in infinite space.
I was free to think.
Free to express my thoughts,
Free to live in my own ideal.
Free to live for myself, and those I loved.
Free to use all my faculties, all my senses.
Free to spread imagination’s wings,
Free to investigate, to guess, and dream and hope.
Free to judge and determine for myself.
Free to reject all ignorant and cruel creeds,
All the inspired books that savages have produced,
And the barbarous legends of the past.
Free from sanctified mistakes and “holy” lies.
Free from the fear of eternal pain,
Free from the winged monsters of the night.
Free from devils, ghosts and gods.
For the first time I was free.
There were no prohibited places in all of the realm of thought.
No error, no space where fancy could not spread her painted wings.
No chains for my limbs.
No lashes for my back.
No flames for my flesh.
No Master’s frown or threat,
No following in another’s steps.
No need to bow or cringe or crawl, or utter lying words.
I was free; I stood erect and fearlessly, joyously faced all worlds.
My heart was filled with gratitude, with thankfulness,
And went out in love to all the heroes, the thinkers who gave their lives
For liberty of hand and brain,
For the freedom of labor and thought to those who fell
On the fierce fields of war.
To those who died in dungeons, bound in chains,
To those by fire consumed,
To all the wise, the good, the brave of every land
Whose thoughts and deeds have given freedom to the sons of men.
And then, I vowed to grasp the torch that they held, and hold it high,
That light might conquer darkness still.
*These tremendous words were written by Robert Green Ingersoll