Allow me to peel back some of the glossy fondant hiding the gooey frosting of my soul. This is poem I wrote about a girl named Monique. She was in my writing class, in fact she was the only attractive girl in the class.

When I was 20 she was 24 and I wrote this because it was my writing ‘skill’ that allowed me to hook up with her at the end of sophomore year.

Bele Bazaar

What a deal, a lover for a letter.
In the vain economy of mankind
have you ever heard a bargain better?
So I wrote to her heart hoping to find

true purchase for my weary affections.
Yet scared, for broken fingers past agree.
So through long pondered night I score sections
of mind to tender figures lovingly.

So we danced, as lovers do, one evening
my step laid out like whispers of true thought
that, like Cupid’s arrow or David’s sling
penetrated softly from string pulled taut.

It was not lust that drove my will that day
for if love steered fate, my course would not stray.

This is one of my last poems about absolution and trying to struggle with my newfound lack of a moral compass. It’s another throwback to 2003 when I really started to become comfortable with being godless. It’s also part of the transition from being ashamed of my atheism to being god damned proud of it.


Believer

Give me power over what terrifies
the soul, some faith or spirit to find.
Sight and blindness help me realize
concordance of soft heart and prideful mind.

Take away this doubt, and leave me not shrewd
cut me from decisions burden heavy.
Tax me with decency. make choice subdued
to each wish outside your guiding levy.

Save my soul and forgive my dirty meat
for attempting to skew your grand design.
Take this burdened flesh and gladly eat
leave me alone with my soul, it is mine.